Untitled-3 Travis's mouth hung open for a full 30 seconds before he was coherent enough to reply to Bryce's message. This was definitely NOT his brother. Not his quiet, I'd-rather-read-than-play-Jonny-in-Questworld twin. It just wasn't possible. Then Travis remembered that book Bryce had been reading. Jessie had raved about it for weeks before talking him into reading it. About some bird, wasn't it? No, one of those sword and sorcerey type medieval fantasies. He tried to tell me about it, but I was so busy with my history project. All about some quiet guy, a lot like Bryce, actually. He ended up some sort of military officer, for his girlfriend. Oh well, time to focus, Travis. He had a tough job. He knew Race wasn't going to be easy to follow, and Estella would probably be with him. Tai Lee couldn't give him his complete attention, she had to give Hadji backup while still trying to help Travis. He sighed, it was going to be a long week. JQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQJQ They'd had a lot of time since arriving in Massachusetts. Race and Estella had kept to their new house for many days and Travis and Tai Lee had done nothing but watch windows for a sign of activity. They had also gotten lots of E-mail from Jonny with different descriptions of all the psychopaths they'd encountered. Travis' knew them by heart: Surd, Julia, Rage, Disciples of Rage, Lorenzo, and a few other miscellaneous crazies. On a whim, Travis packed the book Bryce had been reading. It was called The Kestrel, and the kid in the story, Theo, reminded him a lot of Bryce. Actually, Travis had read the prequel and the sequel in order to get the whole story. It was the most he had ever willingly read in his life, and he enjoyed it. Travis had always liked medieval stuff, and the book dealt with similar things. In fact, Travis could assign almost all the team a role in the story. He saw himself and Tai Lee as Sparrow and Weasel. They were the two thieves turned scriveners for a local equivalent of "The National Enquirer." When the war began it was ultimately their job to eek out spies among loyal officers. That was exactly Travis' job. Creepy, just like the book. I wonder if the same people that die in the book, die in the roles Bryce has assigned them. It was an innocent thought, brought about by days of boredom. The realization of what he'd just thought hit him like a blow to the stomach. He was still recovering when the door across the street opened and Race stepped out with Estella on his arm. "Tai Lee, they're coming out," he whispered hoarsely. "Get your street coat, we're following them," she said softly. A few minutes later two figures bundled up in overcoat, scarf, and muffler followed a barrel chested man in a red shirt and his wife. They had followed the seemingly happy couple for a few blocks when they split up. A tacit nod passed between Tai Lee and Travis as they split with them. Tai Lee moved follow Estella into a flower shop as Travis stopped with Race at a newsstand. Race bought a copy of The Wall Street Journal and Travis bought a pack of gum. Race continued down the street to stop at a bus station. Travis decided Race would figure out he was being followed pretty soon. Travis stayed at the station only long enough to see where Race's bus was going. Downtown, 2700 block. Probably a business building. Travis heaved a sigh and hailed a taxi. "Downtown, 2700 block." He was halfway there when he realized he had little or no cash on him. Shit. He emptied his pockets to find only $3.37. Uh-oh, this could be interesting. The very bus Travis had been avoiding cruised by, Race visible in one window. I CANNOT afford a scene here. Mentally apologizing to the cab driver, Travis slid his hands to the back of the cabbie's neck. A quick squeeze and he was out cold. With the ease of practice Travis slid to the front seat, moved the driver to the passenger side and grabbed the wheel. He cruised into a nearby alley, replaced the cabbie and stepped out. Walking briskly, he tracked Race to a large office building. Race seemed to be rather familiar as the doorman nodded and greeted him with a friendly, "'lo Mr. Bannon, sir. Off to see Ms. Julia again?" Race nodded in affirmation and proceeded to enter the building. Travis was really scared now, this reeked of Surd. He entered the building with minimal trouble. He proceeded to the front desk where he discovered that 'Ms. Julia's' office was located on the 50th floor, the top floor. Travis was in the elevator when the trouble started. It was a large, freight elevator with padded sides. He was on the 46th floor when red lights went off and a siren to boot. I must be cursed. He pressed the 'Stop' button and waited for help to come. Help was the last thing on his hijackers' minds. The top panel burst open and plaster rained down on him. He threw his hands over his head in reflex as bullets sprayed threw the elevator. Five black clad, heavily armed people jumped into the elevator through the open panel. They formed a ring around him, preventing his escape. His defense mechanism turned on, "Good day, gentelman. I see we'll be sharing an elevator." He deadlegged the man nearest him and had pinned another to the wall when an iron, yet well manicured hand, pulled him off of the lackey. He looked up at an attractive woman with red hair cropped short. She wore heels and what appeared to be some sort of short dress. It was green and she had a holster slung about that sported a high calibur pistol. It was Julia, "I'm disappointed the young Mr. Quest couldn't make it. But I think you'll do just as well." Travis's blood ran cold. "Lorenzo! Take Mr. Crenshaw up to the holding room, he should be glad of the company there." "Really, I would like to get to know ALL of you better, but, ah, look at the time. I've got to run." He flung himself up through the broken panel and almost made it when two of Surd's toadeys pulled him back down. Travis was still trying to escape when the butt of a machine gun ended his futile efforts. The world spun, lurched, then dropped away to black. == -Kristen