Graydon, the leader of the Raiders stared at the screen, blinking repeatedly, as if blinking could change the email. He re-read it at least twenty times before getting up and leaving the room to talk to Shawn. Graydon knocked on the door so quietly he was pretty sure Shawn didn't hear it. He shut his eyes, took a deep breathe, and knocked harder.

"Come in." The 17-year-old inside called out in a cracking voice. Graydon stepped inside, the usually neat, but right now messy, room. Shawn was lying in bed still, but even though he was in bed for hours he had dark strips under his dim eyes.

"I got news," Graydon sighed, causing Shawn to perk up, "but I wouldn't call it anything close to good." Then seeing fear in Shawn's eyes Graydon quickly added "She's not dead, yet." The yet came out hesitantly, and painfully. Shawn followed Graydon to the computer room. Shawn was proud of it; it was he who had thought of the technique the Raiders used to go online without being traceable. But now he had too much on his mind to think about that. He scanned the email, and then read it more slowly, and again, and again.

"I never should have allowed her to join the bank robbery." Was all Shawn said,

"Wasn't your call." Graydon reminded him, hoping to take some of the guilt off Shawn's heart.