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to pursue a group belonging to the Dissenters of the Republic headed south to bomb a WR base.”
    “More stories,” Mel said. “Did somebody at Helgen program all this creativity?”
    “It’s not a story. The dissenters are going to bomb a base near the border—what used to be the border—at the north end of New Hampshire.”
    “You know what’s going on with that group?”
    “I was looking for a bone to dangle and up popped this chatter. I’m intercepting data from all over.” Chase swiped his fingers through his hair. “It’s a little overwhelming.”
    “OK, boss, take it easy. I don’t know why, or how, this is working. We’ll figure it out later. Right now, just go with it.”
    “Who’s your messenger? Who’s going up?”
    “Switchblade. When there’s a need to send someone up, he jumps at it.” She lifted her brow and grinned. “Being in a cave makes him…unruly.”
    Cameras in town made easy work of verifying the five were on their way to the meeting place. Switchblade dropped the word and disappeared before the Feds even noticed. Chase instructed the exoself to send the call for federal back-up to move south. The five were inside the old brick building just a few minutes before the deputies got back in their transports and headed out of town.
    “It’s done. With any luck, the leak in communication won’t stop that bomb,” Chase said.
    “It’ll be a blessing if the bombing is thwarted. Lives will be saved,” Amos responded.
    “I don’t get it.” Chase turned his chair to face Amos. “First, you say to die is gain. Whatever that means. And then you want to rescue the bad guys?”
    “They’re misguided. They can find the better way. God willing.”
    These people really were odd. Chase needed to talk to Mel in private. Besides asking a few questions about the confusing methods and messages of the Underground Church, he had to tell her about Amos. No doubt after that handshake; the man was sick.
    But that didn’t explain his blasted contradictions. “Amos, can I ask you something?”
    “Of course.”
    “The people in the Underground and the ones up top—you talk about them like you’re fine with letting them get killed. Like they’re expendable.” Chase leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “But other people, like the Dissenters of the Republic, you want to keep from harm. To save them. I don’t get it.”
    “Seems like foolishness, right?”
    “Yeah, it does. But I know you’re not a fool.”
    “I’m not fine with our people being killed, Chase, but we’re fighting for something greater than ourselves. And they’ve freely given their lives—both physically and spiritually—to Christ. Don’t misunderstand; we all grieve the loss, but we know we’re moving on to be with the Lord when we die. But the lost ones are in danger of…”
    “Of what?”
    Chase’s mom spoke from behind him as she rested her hands on his shoulders. “Sorry to interrupt. Molly and the others are here.”
    Chase leapt from the chair and headed for the stairs. He reached Molly within seconds and put his arms around her. The old woman shook and Chase patted her on the back. “A little too much adventure for you?” he asked.
    “Much too much,” Molly whispered.
    He pulled back. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”
    “I hear I have you to thank. Switchblade says you worked that exoself and got us out.”
    Chase glanced at Switchblade, who wasted no time in looking away.
    “It’s wonderful to see those sweet blue eyes of yours again,” Molly said. “I didn’t know for sure that you’d made it to the underground.” She rubbed Chase’s chin. “A couple of days thickened that beard. Looks good.”
    “I’m sorry you’re stuck here. You can’t go home, you know.”
    “Bound to happen sooner or later. But now we have no one up top to help with supplies.”
    Amos approached and offered Molly a hug. “The Lord will provide. He always does.”
    “Yes,” she said.