Near Quantico, Sunday…

"I think the VP was wrong, that's all. You're not a ballsy bitch. You're pretty nice. Tough, but nice."

"Well, thank you, Sgt. Chavez. When we get past all this, you can invite me to dinner. You're a little young for me, though."

"Is that a problem for you?"

"No, but I don't want it to be one for you. You're a nice guy, too. And again, thanks for saving my life. I owe you all a dinner for that one."

"Maybe we should have a Texas barbecue," drawled Draco. "Unless you're a vegetarian?"

"Dios mio, how could you think that? Remember, tough, but nice. I didn't get that way eating like a rabbit."

They all laughed.

The safe house was a big, rambling farmhouse with a full length front porch and a barn. The FBI agents parked the van in the barn and opened the door of the house for them.

"How long we gonna be here?" asked Draco. He brushed some dirt off his uniform. They were still a disheveled lot.

"As long as it takes," said one of the agents. "The old man's got to figure this out."

"Old man?" asked Jay.

"Jake Hanlon. And Pierce Hamilton, of course. Things could be complicated. It's better to have all of you here, safe and sound."