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Bucholz found Nate’s eyes in the rearview mirror and said, “Again, I’m sorry the way this worked out.”
    “Don’t be,” Nate said from the backseat. More than anything, he was intrigued. Tyrell and Volk were the type of men who could exude menace in certain situations, but they seemed to have everything under control. If they feared Nate’s reaction to whatever it was they were doing or planned to propose, they didn’t show it. Both sat in the front seat with their backs to him. He assumed they had concealed weapons, but they’d not shown them. They hadn’t asked Nate to leave his weapon back at the cabin and the .500 was holstered under his arm.
    They were either sure of themselves, Nate thought, or profoundly foolish. He guessed the former.
    Tyrell, Volk, and the man on the porch all looked familiar to Nate. Although he’d never seen or met any of them before, he felt that he knew them. They were the kind of men he’d worked with, and for, as a special operator.
    “Is he one of yours?” Nate asked Tyrell, gesturing to the younger man on the front porch.
    “Yes, of course. And we’ve got another colleague inside.”
    “So, four of you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Dr. Bucholz, did you see any others?” Nate asked.
    “No. These four showed up about an hour after Rodrigo left this morning. Laura and I were just finishing breakfast.”
    •   •   •
    D R . B UCHOLZ PULLED IN next to the Yukon. Tyrell said to him, “When we go inside, you can get your wife and go to a different part of the house if you like, or the two of you can go out and do ranch things. You know, buildin’ fence or pullin’ calves or whateverit is you people do. But under no circumstances should you sit in on or overhear the discussion I’m going to have with Mr. Romanowski.”
    “You expect me to leave you all alone in my home?” Bucholz asked, affronted.
    “That’s exactly what I hope you’ll do. Believe me when I tell you that for the safety of you and your wife, the less you know about this, the better. And when we’re gone, which we will be soon, I hope you’ll keep the fact that you met us confidential.”
    It wasn’t exactly a threat, Nate observed. It was said with a tone of compassion. But he wasn’t sure there wasn’t a double meaning.
    “What if I call the sheriff?” Bucholz asked. “After all, you’re trespassing on my ranch and you’re keeping my wife inside with one of your men.”
    Tyrell took a deep breath and expelled it in a sigh. “Dr. Bucholz, you can do whatever you want. Go ahead and call your sheriff. Explain to him why we’re here and why you’ve harbored two federal fugitives on your ranch for the last seven months. If your wish is to get Mr. Romanowski here arrested and taken to federal lockup, that’s the way to proceed. I can make one call and the four of us out-of-towners will be released without charges. It’s up to you.”
    Dr. Bucholz shook his head.
    “And please,” Tyrell said, “don’t imply that we’ve threatened you or your wife in any way, because we haven’t. You invited us in when we showed up. Your wife offered us coffee. She’s been free to get up and leave anytime she wanted to. If you don’t believe me, just ask her.”
    Volk said, “We’re all on the same side here.”
    “Really?” Bucholz asked.
    “Really.”
    The doctor said, “All right, all right. Nate, are you okay with this?”
    Both Tyrell and Volk turned their heads to him.
    “I’ll hear what they have to say.”
    “That was a good answer,” Volk said.
    •   •   •
    O N THE FRONT PORCH , the younger man with the buzz cut strode across the planks toward Nate while he mounted the steps.
    The man raised his sunglasses to his forehead and his eyes blazed with an intensity that stopped Nate short. Buzz Cut held out his hand.
    “Nate Romanowski, it’s a real honor to meet you. I’ve followed your career for a long time.”
    “I don’t have a career,” Nate said, shaking the man’s