Modern makeup artistry had reached a near-magical level-no less effective than the old legends of disguise and transformation. In the right hands, a man could be a woman, and a woman could pass for a man without raising suspicion.


    For Leonard, slipping away from pursuers was child''s y.


    All of Sandford had been locked down. Every road was blocked, every car stopped and inspected.


    The driver eyed the barricade ahead and murmured, "Mr. Lerman, there''s a checkpoint."


    Leonard nced at Ste, who remained motionless in the backseat, and spoke with cool indifference. "Rx. They wouldn''t recognize us even if they tried."


    It was soon their turn. Leonard shot the driver a look; the man understood, got out, and walked to the officers. He handed over his license, a slim envelope of bills tucked inside. "We''re in a hurry, gentlemen. I hope you''ll let us through." He gestured to the car, his voice steady and convincing. "There''s nobody you''re looking for in my vehicle. You''re wee to check."


    The interaction carried clearly into the car through the cracked window.


    Leonard obligingly rolled his own window halfway down. Ste, meanwhile, had been shoved down onto the floor, hidden beneath the mats.


    The officers ignored the bribe, gave the interior a cursory nce, and asked, "Nobody else in there?"


    "Just the two of us," the driver replied smoothly.


    The entire time, Ste remained facedown on the floor, limp and utterly still—as if she''d slipped beyond consciousness, unable even to cry for help. She didn''t make a sound.


    A faint, enigmatic smile tugged at Leonard''s lips as he watched the scene unfold. He exchanged a nce with the inspectors-these weren''t strangers, but men he''d strategically nted for this very performance. The goal was to let Ste taste the sharp edge of despair, to break herpletely.


    He''d left her in the backseat on purpose, offering her one final, tantalizing chance to call for rescue, just to snatch it away at thest moment. He imagined her hope crumbling, her spirit shattering-he''d looked forward to it.


    Unfortunately, it seemed she''d already drifted into oblivion. That spoiled his fun, just a little.


    Still, he couldn''t afford to waste time ying games. Foreman''s people were still searching for them. Leonard gave a quietmand. "Let''s go."


    The driver climbed back in, and the car rolled forward into the dark.


    Outside, the night was thick and imprable, the city streets empty in the early morning hours. Their driver kept mostly to deserted back roads, the silence deepening with every mile.


    Leonard listened intently to his


    team''s reports over thems. As soon as Abby''s car had turned onto the main road, tails had picked them up-now several vehicles were shadowing them. Leonard had dispatched his entire crew to draw


    pursuit, leaving only himself and the driver in this car. Fewer people


    meant less attention.


    Sellers, meanwhile, had his own problems. Although his phone had been


    destroyed, his assistant''s hadn''t, and someone had managed to track them down too. Another group was currently following Sellers'' trail.


    Good thing they''d split up, Leonard thought.


    As the night wore on, fatigue crept in. Leonard closed his eyes, running through possible contingencies in his mind. The car''s steady motion lulled him, and, despite himself, he drifted off.


    He had no idea how long he''d slept before a sudden, primal surge of danger jolted him awake-the kind of sixth sense honed by years of surviving close calls. Leonard''s eyes snapped open, just as a sh of steel shed past his face,