Savannah, Georgia, Saturday…

Bouncer and Sandra drove all night to the outskirts of Savannah where Sandra's parents had a vacation home their family also used when her father had business trips from Atlanta. They put their car in the garage, away from prying eyes, and entered the house from the garage door which led into the kitchen.

Bouncer went around the house, studying its floor plan and checking its security, especially the front door, making sure it was solidly latched. As he turned away from it, a floor board creaked loudly.

"The house is a little run down," Sandra apologized. "Daddy's meant to fix that board for a long time now. You have to get at it through the false ceiling and insulation in the basement, so it's not easy. There's other things, like dripping faucets and the like."

"It's plenty good enough for me," observed Bouncer. "We can't expect it to be a fort. Actually, it's a good, solid southern house. Why didn't you tell me you were rich?"

"I'm not. My parents are. You should see our house in Atlanta."

"Hopefully I will. For now, this will do just fine."

"We'll get by, I guess. Do we just wait?"

"That's a good question. Better still, how will we know when it's safe to stop hiding?" Bouncer jabbed a finger skyward. "These guys may have every government satellite available looking for us. Speaking of which, I need to get wired up. Got a hub?"