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away from her and looked out over the horizon. The sun had already dropped behind the hills in the distance, and he hoped to set out in less than an hour. As the heat started to dissipate, he thought of how different this assignment was from the experience that had started him on this path.
    He had only been seventeen when he and three teammates had been on their way back from the state high school swimming championships. Suddenly a blizzard hit in southeastern Virginia. His coach, who also happened to be his mother, made the decision to stop for the night when they were at least twenty miles from any towns. Still she had managed to find them shelter, even though it ended up being the top-secret variety.
    One of her friends had been a chief of something-or-other at “The Farm,” the training facility for the Central Intelligence Agency. He hadn’t been happy to see five civilians on the doorstep of the secure location, but he had made arrangements to house them until the storm passed and the roads were cleared.
    Brent had always known that his mother had worked for the CIA before he was born, but spending those few days snowed in at the CIA’s training facility and seeing the level of security had brought home a reality he had never before considered. His mom, in her own small way, had helped keep their country safe for a time. From that point on, Brent had been headed in this direction. He wanted a chance to help protect the freedoms he had always enjoyed and often taken for granted.
    He sensed movement behind him and turned to see Amy move to the cave opening. “Did you sleep okay?” he asked.
    He expected her to complain about sleeping on solid rock, but instead she just nodded. Her eyes were somber. He sensed that she knew he was her only way out of here and it scared her. If he had to guess, he doubted Amy Whitmore was accustomed to relying on anyone but herself. She was clearly in uncharted waters and didn’t look too happy about it.
    â€œAre you ready to set out?”
    Amy nodded again. “Yeah.”
    Brent passed her the water bag, watching her take a drink as he dug an energy bar out of his pack. “Eat this. Just make sure you put all of the wrappers into your bag. We don’t want anyone to be able to track us.”
    â€œWhat about footprints?” She pointed down at her running shoes.
    â€œThe wind will take care of most of that for us,” Brent told her. “Besides, we don’t know if anyone even realizes that we’re here. The terrorists that were holding you probably think we made it out on the chopper with everyone else.”
    â€œI would think someone would notice two people falling out of a helicopter.”
    â€œNot when they’re more concerned about the shooting going on right outside their windows.” He motioned to the open terrain in front of them. “Come on. The farther we get from the city, the less likely it is that anyone will be looking for us.”
    * * *
    Amy moved forward, concentrating only on following Brent. She wasn’t sure how long they had been walking, but her body told her they had traveled a good distance from where they had started. The darkness was broken up only by the stars in the sky and a sliver of the moon.
    Brent had continued at a steady pace, stopping only once for a few minutes to drink some water and eat another portion of his energy bar. Amy couldn’t say she liked the taste of hers, but it was better than nothing. Their water supply was holding so far, thanks to the water bag Brent had commandeered the day before. At the same time he had filled the water bag, he had also refilled his canteen and the water bottle that was in his backpack.
    The muscles in her legs were screaming with fatigue, but Amy had stopped listening to their complaints a few hours earlier. She couldn’t imagine how she would have been able to make this trek had she not already been in shape. As she watched Brent walk