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mad about what you did to her yesterday.”
    Roman struggled to his feet. He ignored Ripper and started walking. When they were a few feet away, he whispered to Jeff, “After we get there, I’ll start something and you guys make a run for it. It may be your last chance.”
    “No. We’re not leaving you.”
    “You have to. I—”
    “No talking,” Ripper barked. “Spoon, get the rest of them up here. The cabin is just over the next hill. I don’t want to take any more chances.”
    Mitch walked up beside Jeff. “Want me to take over for a while?”
    Jeff shook his head. “No, I’m doing okay.”
    They crossed the road and started down the bumpy path to the cabin. Woody studied the ground. His photographic memory immediately noticed something different. Quickly he moved to the other three and pretended to help Roman.
    “New tire tracks,” he whispered.
    Roman looked around. “Be ready for anything.”
    When they topped the hill, the cabin looked the same as it had when they’d left. Madge’s old car was still parked out front.
    “Go tell her we’re back,” Ripper ordered. “I’ll load the boys in the car.”
    Spoon went into the cabin, and Ripperopened the back door of the car. “Get in, kiddies. This will be the last ride you’ll ever take. Enjoy it.”
    Woody bent down to tie his shoe. Mitch stopped at the car door. “Listen, mister, we haven’t had anything to drink in three days.”
    “My heart bleeds for you, kid. Get in the car.” He yelled over his shoulder at the cabin. “What’s takin’ you two so long? Get out here!”
    There was no answer.
    Ripper’s eyes narrowed. “Spoon?”
    Silence.
    The front door opened and a tall, well-dressed man stepped onto the porch. Several more men moved out of the brush around them.
    The man on the porch flashed his badge. “Give it up, Ripper. We’ve got your partners. Drop your gun and move away from the boys. There’s no way out.”
    Ripper acted as if he were going to drop his gun but then whirled and grabbed Mitch with one arm, using him as a shield.
    “You cops come any closer and this kid won’t see his next birthday.”
    “Give it up, Ripper. You can’t win.” The man on the porch edged down the steps.
    “Don’t come any closer!” Ripper screamed. “Everybody get back.”
    The agent near the porch put his hands up. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
    Roman let his arm quietly slide off Jeff’s shoulder. He held his side tightly and jumped. One foot jabbed into Ripper’s stomach, making the blond man drop the gun and double over. Before anyone could blink, Roman brought the other foot up under Ripper’s chin, spinning him around.
    In seconds the agents had surrounded Ripper and handcuffed him.
    “Way to go, Roman!” The boys crowded around him, slapping him on the back.
    “Hey, watch the ribs …”
    “Are you Roman Sanchez?” The agent who had done all the talking walked up to them and put out his hand. “I’m Sam Williams. I worked on a few cases with your father years ago. He’d have been proud of you today, son.”
    “Thanks.” Roman stared at the ground, embarrassed.
    “How’d you find us?” Woody asked.
    “We had the general area pretty well pinpointed after we got your message at the gas station. But what helped at the end were your radio transmissions. You boys really used your heads.”
    Roman looked at the tired, dirty faces of the other three boys. “We had a lot of luck, all the luck there is.”
    “Luck, nothing!” Woody held both fists in the air. “We’re just too awesome for ’em to hold, right, guys?”
    Jeff moved to Roman and supported him while he sagged in pain, helping him to the porch. “Right, Wormy—totally awesome. At least one of us.”
    “You know what I think?” Roman said, wincing and watching the officers put the kidnappers in the backseats of government cars.
    “What?” Jeff asked.
    “I think next year we should do something else on our field trip.”

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