Chase was sitting at the table on the porch writing, and he casually slipped the papers inside a file folder when she came to the door. Outside in the night came the squeaky cheep of a whistling frog, backed by the constant buzz of cicadas. Neither spoke, they just looked at one another, then awkwardly, both at once.

"Sorry," Chase said, "go ahead."

"No . . . you . . ."

"I was just going to say, your button's in the wrong hole." He suggested with an adopted smile. She blinked, looking down and then sagged against the door frame, tears spilling from her eyes.

"Hey, hey . . ." He got up and reached for her, pausing as she made to push him away, then braced himself as she fell into his arms, sobbing against his chest. "Okay. It's okay." He held her, letting her cry, and burying his face in her hair.

Several minutes later, seated with a glass of wine and a box of tissues, Paula bared her heart and her concerns. He had listened without interruption, watching and soaking up the tiny facial changes and the body language as she spoke. A lifetime of locking away his emotions, a hindrance to his occupation and his safety, had exploded into light after meeting this woman, and had only become more prominent each time he looked at her, felt her, or even thought of her.

"I feel a damned fool." She hiccuped and blew her nose.

"No more than I do, Paula." His words made her eyes water again, and she just sat there, lips quivering.

He smiled and picked up his empty glass. "Be right back." As he stood, he accidentally scraped the file folder from the table and the papers inside scattered across the floor. Immediately they both got down to pick them up.

"No . . ." His eyes darted to the sheet she held. She slowly stood and sat with a thump as she read. "Paula, please . . ."

Mouth open, she passed the sheet to him and angled her head questioningly as she did.

"You weren't supposed to see that." He put everything away in the folder and sat back down, flapping it against his lap. "It's something I never had to think about before."

"Before me, you mean?"

He sighed and stared up at the ceiling of the porch. "All the things you just said are pretty much the way I have felt toward you and our circumstance. The difference is, I've never had to think about them before. I never let the possibility take root. Now- well now I realize I have to consider these new feelings and their ramifications."

"But, Chase, that," she said pointing, "that's ridiculous. You must have family . . . your- your friends – somebody?"

The short laugh was self-deprecating. "You're wrong. My business doesn't permit anything beyond acquaintances - until now. This is something I want to do, and really," he said with a wry smile, "there's not a lot you can do about that." He picked up his glass again and started inside, halting as a soft ring sounded throughout the house, and a series of small red lights flickered.

"Get inside now!" He killed the porch light and went straight to his equipment closet, checking the screens. The cameras were equipped with night, vision and Chase watched the three figures stop on the road and split up.

"Fast as you can," he ordered, "get on a pair of long pants and your jacket."

"What are we doing?" Paula whispered.

"As we're told - now move it." He opened another closet and began taking things out. That last item she saw, as his glare sent her scrambling, was an ugly looking gun.

When Paula hurried back downstairs, Chase was waiting, and without a word he looped a Kevlar vest over her head.

"Fasten the sides, grab that bag and follow me - quietly."

She was seeing the man she had first met make a sudden appearance, and the experience warned her not to protest in any way. She crouched like he did, following him down a short stairway to a dirt-filled space under the house.

"Hold this." She accepted the gun, holding it like a deadly snake while he studied a small screen. "Two of them are at the back on the other side. One is out there by that clump of banana leaves." He traded her the small screen for the gun. "Stay right here and don't make a sound."

In a blink he was gone, and she glanced at the screen seeing nothing. All kinds of bad possibilities flooded her mind while she peered fruitlessly into the darkness. Suddenly he was back, and she elicited a small gasp. His hand went over her mouth as he took back the screen, checked it, then stuffed in his pack and signalled for her to follow again.

They scooted, crouching low, through the jungle of wild growth, pausing briefly then hurrying on. In a tiny clearing, Paula was surprised to see a metal garden shed hidden under several large broad-leaf plants. Chase unlocked the door, disappeared inside and reappeared almost immediately with a two-seater Vespa in jet black.

"Get on and hold tight."

******

"How the hell did they know?" Fitz stood looking down at the twisted body of Jones, his neck broken and surprise etched on his features.

Carver was looking around and suddenly swore. "Look. Up there. The bastard had the place rigged with sensor cameras."

Fitz followed his point and spotted the small camera mounted on the palm tree. He gave a small shudder. "I knew he was supposed to be good, but this is more than just hit man skill. Christ, the guy had a motorbike all ready. How are we gonna find him now?"

Carver knelt down and stripped all means of identification from Jones, then set fire to his clothes.

"What the--?"

"Unless you want to start pulling teeth and cutting off fingers, this is the best way. We can't have him tracked back to us or, god forbid, the organization. Besides, it's Chase that will have to explain if it comes to that." He backed away as the flames grew. "This other stuff is too green to burn, let's move it."

Fitz gave a stunned looked back at the burning corpse, then stumbled after Carver.

******

Joseph Laforce showed Chase where to stow the scooter, then led him into the house. Paula was seated at the table in the neat kitchen, accepting the intense examination of three small girls. Chase was telling Joseph what he was expected to do, brooking no arguments, as they joined the rest of the family.

"We'll have a bite here and then we're off. I do not want Joseph and his family involved in any way."

"Where are we going?"

His look was pitying. "You need watering again?"

Paula's face flamed at the reference, and three little girls all giggled. She realized that information could not be shared here. Clara, Joseph's wife, herded the girls out of the kitchen, returning with a beginning apology.

"No, please. That was my fault, I should have known better." Paula avoided Chase's smiling face.

"You will have a good meal before you leave," Clara smiled as well and busied herself at the sink.

Joseph showed them to a tidy little sitting room and served them each a fresh coffee while they waited, then went to help his wife.

"Well, it's started. You ready for whatever's next?" Chase watched her over his cup.

"About as ready as I was last time. What happened to the man you saw back there?"

"Let's just say, and then there were two."

A tremendous shiver ran down her back almost making her spill her coffee.