Face moved to let Bonnie put the tray on the cot. It held a plastic jug of water, instead of just a cup, more sandwiches, and an apple. Beside those sat a bowl of water and a washcloth. Bonnie carried a towel over her arm.

"Thanks," Face said, when she handed him the towel. He put that around his shoulders and she handed him the damp washcloth. Face smiled his thanks at her this time and she lowered her gaze, though still watched him.

Face started to wash the back of his head. The warm water felt soothing, but he tossed in a hiss or two of apparent pain. And he tried to look as awkward as he could, working one handed, and twisting himself in an uncomfortable way.

"Would you like me to do it?" she asked, just as she was meant to. The brave little soldier act always worked for him.

"Would you?" She glanced over at the door, and Face did the same. It stood slightly open, and he saw CW there, but paying little attention beyond a glance or two when they spoke. Bonnie moved the tray off the cot and sat, with the bowl of water on her lap. Face turned his back to her and she started to wash off the matted blood.

"You know, I should probably be in a hospital after a bash on the head like that," Face said. He got no answer. "I could have a concussion, or worse. You could have come in here and found you couldn't wake me up. What would you have done then?"

"I don't know," she said. "Called for help."

"911?"

"I'm not supposed to use the phone."

"Not supposed to?" She didn't elaborate. He tried a different tack.

"Do you approve of what your brothers are doing?"

"They're not my brothers."

Ah, interesting. "Married to one of them?"

"No. I'm their cousin; their Pa was my momma's brother."

She started drying Face's hair and neck, pressing the towel to them, quite gently.

"You didn't answer my question though. Do you approve of this whole kidnapping and blackmail thing?"

"It's Ma's plan."

He wasn't getting an answer yet, he could see. She gathered the bowl, the water pink now, and the washcloth and towel and stood up.

"I'll come get the tray later." She glanced at the door again. "I better go." She didn't move for a moment though, and then took off suddenly.

"Bonnie," Face called, making her stop. "Thanks." He touched the back of his head. "That feels much better." She nodded and left. CW poked his face in for a moment, checking out the room, and closed the door.

Face sighed. Well, he'd made a start. Not much of a response either way if she approved of the plan or not. But at least she hadn't said, "Yes, I think it's a great scheme!"

He picked his food up from the tray and lay on the cot, eating slowly.

>o<

The van sat parked up on a side road off the main street of the town of Hayesville. The town was mostly rather scattered houses arranged loosely around the floor of a valley. Woods covered the lower slopes of the surrounding hills, thinning out on the higher slopes. Eastwards, beyond the hills, mountains rose, Nevada lay somewhere beyond that.

Hannibal, Murdock and BA waited in the van for Tawnia. They had left her outside the post office and come here, the post office being a little too close to the sheriff's office for comfort.

Hannibal stifled a yawn and a moment later Murdock caught the yawn and didn't try to stifle it at all. He looked at BA waiting for him to take his turn, but BA just glared back at him.

Even he was tired though, Hannibal could see that. They all needed rest. They'd gather what information they could this afternoon. But after that, they needed sleep. He felt bad about it, knowing it meant leaving Face in the hands of the Watkins that much longer, but they couldn't function on two nights of no sleep.

"Here she comes," Murdock said, as Tawnia's car turned into the side street and parked up beside the van. He slid open the door for her to climb aboard and she handed a map of the town and the surrounding hills to Hannibal.

"What did you find out?" Hannibal asked, unfolding the map. "I don't suppose they could give you an address for the Watkins?"

"Hannibal, you know they wouldn't give me that," Tawnia said. Hannibal shrugged. He supposed not. Face could have got it. "They don't even have it, they said. But they knew who I meant when I asked about the Watkins." She shook her head. "Just like the guy at the Holiday Inn. They said half the time they're drunk when they come in, and they make... comments to the staff. You know, coming on to them."

"Deke," Murdock said. When Tawnia looked at him, he added. "Deke's the - hah - ladies' man of the bunch. Just ask Amy next time you talk to her."

Tawnia grimaced at that. "Well, they think the Watkins are living someplace out of town, just going from things they've heard them say. Are we going to wait for them to come and collect their mail and follow them?"

"That could take too long," Hannibal said, shaking his head. "We have to get out there and find them."

"The post office staff said there's a few isolated houses in these hills." She leaned over Hannibal's seat, looking at the map. "Are they on the map?"

Hannibal shook his head. "Some dirt roads are marked and a couple of hamlets, but not individual houses."

"Obvious way to spot them is from the air," Murdock said. "Grid search pattern, mark houses and the roads to them on the map. Then check them out on the ground."

"A helicopter?" Tawnia asked.

"Too noisy and noticeable," Murdock said. "A nice little single engine plane would be best." He looked thoughtful and nodded after a moment. "Nearest airfield with planes to hire is about forty miles back."

"Did your psychic powers tell you that?" Hannibal asked. BA snorted.

Murdock scowled at him. "No. I have subscriptions to a couple of flying magazines. They have ads in them."

"And you remember even the ads?" Tawnia sounded amazed.

"I have a lot of reading time on my hands."

"Okay, Murdock," Hannibal said. "I'll take your word for it. Take that fake pilot's licence and some of the cash, and go in Tawnia's car."

"Cash? I'm not going to scam it?" Murdock looked disappointed.

"No. We don't have time. And we don't need the cops coming looking for a stolen plane either."

Murdock nodded and sighed. "This isn't as much fun without Face, is it?"

"No," Hannibal said. "No, it's not."

"What's the rest of us gonna do?" BA asked.

"We're going to mingle. I'll bet the people in the post office aren't the only ones who've noticed the Watkins. Tawnia, you check out the stores."

"Okay. I saw a beauty parlour. I'll try in there, too."

"I don't think the Watkins get regular manicures." Murdock giggled at himself.

"Doesn't matter, it's still a place to pick up gossip," Hannibal said. "Good thinking, kid. BA, you go find the local mechanic. I'm sure you two can bond over an engine. And the Watkins were in that line of work before." BA's snort told Hannibal of his opinion of the Watkins' abilities as mechanics. "Yeah, well, you can bring the subject up. Meanwhile, I'll check out the bars. Now those I'll guarantee they've been in." He looked around at the other three, waiting for his final order.

"Move out."

>o<

Face woke again, and again cursed himself for sleeping. No time to sleep. He'd have plenty of time to sleep after he got out of here. Back to work.

He hadn't moved when he woke, the old training long ago turned to instinct, and he became aware of a small sound, a scuffling from the floor. Had that woken him? He moved slowly forward and looked down at the floor, at the jug of water, and the plastic cup, at the paper plate, at the apple core.

At the rat nibbling on the apple core.

"Oh, shit!" Face slammed back against the wall and saw the rat streak across the room to vanish through some gap between the floorboards and the baseboard. Rats! He hated goddamn filthy rats.

The door slammed back and Harold dashed in, a pistol drawn. "What's going on? What you yelling about?"

"You've got fucking rats in here!" Face glared at him, but took a breath, trying to get hold of himself. Didn't want to let them see how much the rat bothered him. Harold didn't seem to notice though, too busy looking around the room, sweeping the gun around.

"Where is it?"

"It's gone now, you idiot." Face smirked at him. "This house has got more vermin in it than I thought."

Harold didn't catch the insult; too busy looking nervously into the corners. He bent to look under the cot, sadly too far back for a kick in the face.

"Ma says they come in from outside," he said.

"No, really? I thought they beamed down from spaceships."

Harold did catch the sarcastic tone there and waved the gun vaguely in Face's direction. "Shut up."

Deke and CW came pounding in, also with guns drawn. Face winced at all the weapons waving about. These clowns were as likely to shoot him by accident as deliberately.

"What's all the yelling about?" Deke demanded.

"He says he saw a rat," Harold said.

"A rat?"

"I think it was a rat," Face said. "It was an ugly, filthy beast that I wanted to kill soon as I saw it. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe Curly or Logan already got out of prison?"

He almost got a punch for that. Deke came at him with a raised fist, but stopped short when Ma joined them in the room. Bonnie followed behind, but stayed beside the door, until Ma pointed at the remains of Face's last meal on the floor. Someone had kicked over the water jug now.

"Clear that up. And don't leave a mess again. That's what brings them in."

Bonnie at once knelt to pick up the things. Face looked at her for a moment, before he turned back to Ma Watkins.

"I left the things on the floor. That was my fault, not hers."

Bonnie glanced at him, wide-eyed, but looked away quickly and went on clearing up. When she'd collected all the things together, she stood and turned to go. As she passed him, Deke slapped her on the butt and the three brothers laughed. Bonnie didn't react at all, just left the room. Ma didn't seem to have noticed. She looked at her watch.

"Time for dinner, boys."

"Can I get extra to feed my pet rat?" Face said. "I'm thinking of naming him Curly."

He'd been taking a risk, he knew, giving in to the temptation to bait them. Knew they didn't dare hurt him too badly, or they'd risk screwing up their blackmail plan. Still he expected a punch from one of the brothers for that remark, so it took him by surprise when Ma came at him instead. She came from the side he was chained, and though he raised an arm on instinct to block, the chain stopped him short. She didn't slap him. Instead her fingers raked down the side of his face and her nails scratched deep into his flesh.

She stepped back and he felt blood warm on his cheek. He hadn't cried out, or flinched much, learning long ago not to give anyone that satisfaction. But still she smirked. The sight of the blood enough for her perhaps.

She'd give the order in the end, Face thought. If it all went wrong and the team didn't manage to pull off whatever they were planning; she'd give the order to get rid of Face. And she'd watch when one of her sons put a gun to Face's head. Perhaps she'd even do it herself, and then just watch them bury him.

It won't get that far, he promised himself. He'd be out of here as soon as he could get free of the manacle. He'd move as fast as that damn rat.

"You get no dinner," Ma told Face.

"Sent to bed without any supper." Face sighed. "Just like when I was a boy." He still hadn't raised a hand to his bleeding face. Could feel the blood trickling down now.

She snorted with disgust at his continued nonsense, and turned away. The brothers followed her out of the room. Face heard the sound of bolts drawn across on the other side. He hoped they had all gone up for dinner, and not left anyone on guard, but he couldn't rely on that.

Okay, back to work. He'd lost all trace of tiredness now. With the threat of rat invasion there was no chance of him going back to sleep. He shivered at the thought. It wouldn't be so bad if they stayed on the floor, but the little bastards could jump; people would be amazed how high. And the cot was barely two feet off the floor.

Face had sometimes seen neglected kids brought into the children's home, by cops or social workers, thin and dirty and quiet, clinging tight to their liberator. One time he'd seen one of the Sisters cleaning and dressing small wounds on the legs of a one such kid, newly arrived, and seen her weeping while she did it. And when he'd asked, she told him the wounds were rat bites. He'd barely slept for a week. He hadn't seen rat bites again till Vietnam.

So he'd stay awake now, and get the hell out of here. And if they weren't going to give him dinner, well, he was just going to have to go for take out.

>o<

Hannibal, BA and Tawnia had takeout sandwiches for their dinner, in the van, and gave their reports. Hannibal had found out the Watkins had certainly made a nuisances of themselves in the local bars. Getting drunk and fighting - with each other if nobody else wanted to play.

BA had talked to the local mechanic at length, after he took the van in, pretending to be having some kind of problem. He'd been in there all afternoon. The mechanic knew the Watkins all right. As know-nothings who came around and boasted about the business they used to have. But he hadn't found out an address for the Watkins, despite the long visit.

Tawnia had spent most of the afternoon in the beauty parlour, and had a haircut, highlights, a pedicure, waxed legs, a facial and a fresh manicure to show for it. Her credit card was feeling the strain apparently. But she was the only one who at least brought some new information.

"Their mother?" Hannibal said.

Tawnia nodded, swallowing a bite of her sandwich. "Apparently. The girls all said she's a nasty piece of work, always pushing people around and complaining. She's made some of the staff cry."

"A mother. Who'd have thought the Watkins had a mother? I thought they hatched out from a bit of meat that had been left out in the sun too long."

Tawnia froze, her sandwich partway to her mouth, and then put it down. BA did the same and glared at Hannibal

"Sorry," Hannibal said. "Could anybody tell you where the house is though?"

"No. It seems like they want to avoid anything to do with the family. The brothers are banned from coming in to wait for their mother, after they harassed the staff."

Hannibal nodded slowly. From what he'd gathered it sounded as if the Watkins hadn't yet managed to establish the kind of reign of terror they had in Barlow Creek. Perhaps they were even trying to keep a low profile. They just weren't very good at it.

"But the staff there seems pretty knowledgeable otherwise?" He said to Tawnia, mind already working ahead. "About other locals?"

"Oh yes. Like you said, loads of gossip."

"Good." He smiled at her. "You'll be going back there later."

"Hannibal! What else am I supposed to get done? I've had everything I can think of cut, dyed, waxed, massaged or painted!"

"You'll think of something."

She started to argue, but the sound of the phone cut her off. Hannibal picked it up to hear Murdock as he expected reporting that he'd hired a small single engine plane. Hannibal glanced out of the window. Dusk was deepening into night.

"Okay, Murdock, you'll start your search in the morning. Stay put there for now, get a room and get some sleep. I'll drive down to meet you, for oh seven hundred. Give me directions to the airfield." He wrote it down when Murdock dictated. Murdock couldn't fly and mark off houses on a map, so he needed a partner.

He hung up, and nodded to the other two. "We'd better get a room too. We all need sleep and I'll need to get moving early to meet Murdock. Now, finish your dinner." He picked up the phone again. "Meanwhile I'd better ring the Watkins and tell them about our plans."

BA and Tawnia both stared at him and he grinned back.

"You know," he said. "My brilliant, elaborate scheme for the jailbreak."

>o<

Face heard the door bolts being drawn back, and looked up. He dropped the mattress back down. Another sound had been coming from the other side of the door for a while; snoring. It went on as Bonnie slipped into the room, looking back nervously the whole time. Face saw Deke sitting on the floor, back against the wall.

Bonnie held a cup of water in one hand and a sandwich in the other. The sandwich wasn't on a plate and Face understood. No plate, so no evidence. He took the cup of water she offered him, drank it and handed it back to her, nodding, staying silent. He took the sandwich, his growling stomach very grateful at the prospect of it.

She watched him start to eat, until Deke made a snorting noise, and spoke in his sleep, rhythmic snoring interrupted.

Bonnie fled.

Face heard the sound of the bolts locking him back in, but the sound didn't dishearten him. He was locked in with his sandwich, and a feeling that his plan B was proceeding nicely.

But first... Plan A. He finished the sandwich and went back to work. Close now, very close. The metal worked back and forth under his hand, weakening.