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Madame?”
    “Not at all,” she answered.
    “We believe,” Terry began, “that one of your children—”
    “Without proof of guilt,” Mrs. Ayala interrupted, “I cannot allow you to interrogate any of my children.”
    Terry shook his head in negation. “We don’t want to anyway, not as long as there’s a chance one of them would inform the kidnappers that we’re here, or if their disappearance would.”
    “On the other hand,” Lox asked, “if we obtain that proof?”
    “I’ll heat up the irons for you myself,” she said, old eyes flashing with young fire. The brief flash subsided; the eyes softened. “I have seven children, after all, but only one soul mate. There must, however, be proof before I will permit it.”
    “Fair enough,” Terry agreed. “That said, if we have the proof we also, most likely, have the location where your husband is being held. So it may not be necessary, anyway.”
    “Necessary or not, if one of my children is responsible, I want that one dead.”
    “We don’t have any problem with that,” Terry agreed. He had to work to keep surprise out of his voice. In his, admittedly limited, experience it was the rare wife who preferred husband to offspring. But, then again, she did use that word, “soul mate.” This does not make her more trustworthy, however.
    “Do you have any idea which of your children might be responsible?” Terry asked.
    “I do,” Mrs. Ayala admitted. “I will not tell you my suspicions, however. That will be one of my checks on whether you identify the right one. Please continue.”
    Terry nodded and tapped a pocket. “I have what I believe is a fairly complete list of people who may know something about your husband’s disappearance. Once the rest of my initial team flies in, we will analyze that and pick a list of likely lucrative targets.”
    “Your initial team will consist of?”
    Terry almost said, “Fourteen,” the true number coming in, including himself and Lox. He decided, all things considered, that it would be better to have some force available of which his employer was not aware. Not like I have reason to trust her, after all.
    “Eight,” he lied, adding another partial lie, “All intelligence specialists.
    “Once we have a narrow list of likely targets, we’ll kidnap, interrogate, and almost certainly kill them. We have to be a bit careful,” he added, “because if we start too low it may warn off those who are higher placed, while if we start too high, it may alert those actually holding your husband that someone is on their trail. This could cause them to move him to someplace no one has any clue to.”
    “I don’t see a solution to the problem,” Mrs. Ayala said.
    “We’ll try to restrict ourselves to the peripherals, the journalists and politicians who are in bed with the Harrikat.”
    “And if that doesn’t work?” she asked.
    “Then it would be hopeless,” Terry admitted, cautioning, “my organization never offered you more than a best chance.
    “In any case,” he continued, “we have to assume we have some success. So, assuming that we do, the better part of a battalion sets sail sometime in the next forty-eight hours from our base to here. They should be here in about five weeks. By then we should have Mr. Ayala’s location pinned down with some specificity. We recon; we plan; we attack to free him.”
    “You will need some assistance before then.” It was not a question.
    “Yes, Madame,” Terry agreed. “And we will do precisely nothing but analyze until the money is in escrow. Since you’ve accepted our offer of ‘double or nothing,’ that comes to seventy million USD. As for what we need; Mr. Lox?”
    Lox began to reach into a pocket to produce a shopping list of sorts.
    The Filipina put up that same bejeweled hand, palm forward, and said, “Don’t give it to me. I am leaving Pedro with you for the duration of your contract. He can get you anything you need, within reason. Think of him as our