Felix glanced around the small motel room, clutching the blindfold in her fist. Based on the room's sparse appearance, Donovan had removed everything that might give her a clue where she had landed, and the painted bowls of fruit on the wall appeared to be the work of an eleven-year-old, which didn't strike her as the decorative scheme for a Holiday Inn. Was the motel family owned? She hadn't been subjected to climbing stairs blindfolded, which probably meant there were no floors higher. Certainly, Donovan wouldn't have given her easy access to the street if he could help it. Despite her lack of clues, she had enough to share with the feds. The trick would be relaying information without triggering Jordy's radar.

Stiff-jawed and red-eyed, Jordy stared at the laptops, which had not been opened. It was clear he was dreading the next twelve hours. He also appeared to be in desperate need of sleep. Felix took a seat next to him.

"You look tired, Jordy. Why don't you take a nap? I promise not to run away."

He snorted and sat up straighter in his chair. "I'm not tired."

"I noticed Donovan didn't toss the coffee maker out of the room. I'll make us some coffee before we get started."

Felix walked to the bathroom counter where the coffee maker sat plugged into the wall. She sifted through the packets just in case Donovan had missed a clue, talking aloud to herself.

"Hmm, Folgers. I would have preferred Starbucks, but at least it's not generic. A no-frills, family-owned motel like this isn't going to be worried about brand. Hey, Jordy. I'm going to change my tampon. That okay with you?"

"I don't need the commentary."

Felix smirked as she shut the bathroom door. Jordy had always been an easy target for her taunts, although she didn't know why she felt so cocky. She knew what Donovan's idea of her future looked like. Death by bullet, most likely delivered by Jordy. At least she had the next twelve hours to work with, more if Jordy proved to be a failed project.

Unfortunately, the bathroom had been picked clean of clues, including the shampoo, although Donovan was kind enough to leave the towels, which looked more like dishcloths. She flushed the toilet to give the impression she had done what she came to do, and Jordy lifted his head from the table when she walked out. He attempted to look revitalized as he pointed to the laptops.

"Power these up, will ya? I want to get started."

"Sure, sure, but I wanted to talk for a minute first." She sat down and offered him a friendly smile. Her first line of defense was to remind him of their two year friendship.

"Talk about what? Why do we need to talk?" He folded his arms across his chest, as if to protect himself from her lethal words.

"I need to know how much education you've had so I'm not using terms that will confuse you."

"I'm not an idiot! I graduated high school."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it. Any college?"

"No."

"Trade school?"

"No."

"What did you do for work before you signed on with Donovan?"

His arms tightened and so did his lips. "I worked for animal control in Chicago, picking up carcasses and strays."

Felix nodded. Picking up dead animals was right up his alley. "Did you like that job?"

He shrugged. "It was a job."

"Were you living at home when you worked for animal control?"

"What does that have to do with my education?"

"It doesn't. I just wondered how long it's been since you've seen your family."

Jordy's lips tightened even further, causing his nose to wrinkle. This face usually preceded a tantrum. "Just plug in the damn laptops and let's get this fucking show on the road."

Felix relented. She needed to bond with Jordy, not piss him off. She got the laptops powered up and sat back in her chair, mimicking Jordy's cross-armed position. She knew manipulating complex codes was not in Jordy's wheelhouse. Donovan was desperate. He had put all his eggs in one basket, and he was facing an empty coop.

"Jordy, we've known each other for a while now, not enough for me to know what you did before you became a hired gun for Donovan, but I think we know enough about each other to call ourselves friends. It's pretty clear Donovan has no intention of keeping my brilliant mind alive after tonight. He knows he's fucked now that Andy is behind bars, and this little kidnapping charade is a desperate attempt to recover anything he can before he dumps me. So, what's my motivation?"

The skin on Jordy's forehead creased as he scrutinized her. Was he trying to figure out if it was a trick question? "Your motivation is not to die sooner."

"Well, I'd rather die than give Donovan any more of my beautiful mind. So, why don't you off me right now? You won't have to torture yourself with a bunch of complicated algorithms and I'll have the satisfaction of paying everyone back for the bullshit they've put me through over the past couple of years."

Feeling like she didn't have much to lose, Felix stood up and began pacing the small strip of worn carpet as she continued her speech.

"You probably don't give a shit, but I'm going to tell you something about myself. At eighteen, I graduated from high school with a full scholarship to MIT. I worked damn hard for it and I was looking forward to a bright future. Then, at the end of my first year, I was attacked at knifepoint. That single incident changed how I looked at the world. I became suspicious and guarded. I started undergoing hypnotherapy to erase the memories and night terrors that plagued me. Good old Dr. Crenshaw. His therapy helped, and I was feeling like a normal person again. Then I moved to Chicago and Donovan found me a new therapist - Dr. Florence. That's when the injections began and strange images started floating into my consciousness, images of my hands wrapped around the necks of faceless people. I don't know what's real and what's not anymore, and I've become suspicious and guarded again. Now I'm wanted for two murders. Murders I don't even remember. Not a very bright future after all, eh?"

The smell of strong coffee filled the room, and Felix detoured to the coffee maker, leaving Jordy to stare unflinching at the floor. Clearly, he had learned to shut off his emotions in order to carry out the multiple murders she knew he was responsible for. Maybe it was easy for him because he didn't know those people, unlike her. He knew her, but she still had no idea what direction he would take when it came to following Donovan's orders. She figured he was smart enough not to kill her without Donovan's permission, and a small part of her wanted to believe he would experience some amount of remorse once the deed was done.

She poured their coffees and brought them over to the table, returning with creams and sugars. When she sat down, Jordy was staring at the wall. She added a packet of sugar to her coffee and stirred it as she watched him. He eventually abandoned the wall to check out the options on the table, choosing a packet of powdered cream and dumping it in. She had already decided Jordy had Scottish blood in him, with his fiery temper and the hint of red in his blond hair. She also knew his last name was Calhoun.

"How did you meet Donovan?" she asked as she sipped from her mug. The harsh bite of coffee triggered her hunger, reminding her she had a sandwich slowly decomposing in the Wendy's bag.

Jordy took his time to answer. "We were introduced by a mutual friend."

Sterile, but she had made an important stride. He answered the question without dropping the F-bomb. "How long did you know Donovan before he offered you a job?"

"A few months."

"Did you know what kind of business he was in when you accepted the job? I've often wondered how that kind of conversation is approached. I assume he didn't offer you the position of henchman."

Jordy exhaled over his mug before setting it down. "Why are we talking about this?"

"Would you rather talk about something else? Or do you want to veg on cable TV? I don't think they have HBO."

"We're not supposed to be vegging or talking. You're supposed to be teaching me this damn system so I can help Donovan."

"Why do you want to help Donovan? Because he's your boss? Because he could crush you like a bug if you don't do what he says? You're much bigger than him. You could take him down easily."

"Why would I want to do that? He hasn't treated me bad and he pays me well."

"Where do you see yourself in ten years, Jordy? Still offing people for a living? In prison, serving back to back life sentences? Dead?"

"Shut up!" Jordy' face hardened to granite and his hand moved to his gun, which was tucked under his jacket, the jacket he hadn't taken off since he kidnapped her.

"I'm sorry. That was insensitive of me. I'm just naturally curious about stuff. Most people have goals and plans for their future, whether it be career, family, travel. I just wondered how much you thought about those things. Do you see yourself finding a girlfriend and having kids?"

"No. Kids are a pain in the ass, and so are girlfriends."

"So, you're fine with getting your sexual kicks from whores? What about when you're sixty and you can't get it up anymore?"

"I'd rather be dead." He picked up his coffee and took a drink. His eyes were not on her.

Felix stood and wandered over to the curtain that hid a big picture window. As soon as she attempted to pull it back, Jordy jumped from his seat.

"Don't touch that! Leave the curtain closed."

"Why? If I'm going to be dead by tomorrow, why can't I look at the sunset? I'm sure it's amazing against the mountains."

"You don't know that for sure."

"I don't know what for sure? That the sunset will be amazing or that I'll be dead by tomorrow."

His body stiffened as he glared at her. "Both."

"You know, Jordy. I don't really have a death wish. I prefer to stay alive, in spite of the crap that comes with it. Part of it is instinct, of course, but part of it is because I actually have hope for my future. I enjoy feeling, not just happiness and love, but angst, fear and empathy. I see what you have done to combat the harsh reality of being a gun-for-hire. You're emotionally flatlined. You've shut off the tap to your feelings in order to do your job. That's about as close to dead as you can get. In fact, I suspect death is better, at least then you're free of the burden of emotions. Just my opinion."

Felix forced Jordy to hold her gaze, and he did this for about five seconds before sitting back down and folding his arms over his jacket.

"Fine. Look at the fucking sunset," he growled. "Don't say I never gave you anything."

Felix sighed, grateful she'd been given an opportunity to find out her location. She was also glad she'd made headway with Jordy, although she figured it wouldn't last. The sun was just slipping behind the mountains when she pulled back the curtain, and the sky had bloomed into a bouquet of peaches and lavenders, but the most beautiful sight had to be the faded blue motel sign that wasn't quite hidden behind the pines, telling her where she was.

"Ah, The Quiet Lark Motel. And Donovan said he hadn't splurged on me."

Jordy offered no retort, and Felix didn't check to see what kind of expression he wore. She assumed it was a scowl. He was damaged beyond repair, and if the feds managed to get to her before Jordy filled her with lead and made his escape, he was going to put the prison psychologists through their paces.

Felix watched the traffic trundle past, which mostly consisted of logging trucks and four wheel drive vehicles that looked like they hadn't been washed since the last mud bog. Belt was an unassuming logging town in Montana. The perfect camo for a crime lord's home in the hills. Was it a family residence? Was Donovan really married?

As Felix watched the sun set, she noticed the ugly Ford Taurus sitting on the other side of the parking lot. The lot wasn't very big, so the feds would have no trouble spotting it if they had been listening to her careful instructions, but how could she tell them which room she was in without seeing the outside of the door? Surely, Donovan hadn't used his real name to make the reservation. Would the cops just find out which rooms were occupied and knock on all of them?

During her internal musings, a pair of cars pulled into the parking lot, and Felix watched them drive slowly past the motel office. When they pulled into the spaces on either side of the gray Taurus, her heart thudded inside her chest. Could this be the cavalry?

Jordy had not moved from his spot in his chair, and Felix did her best to act as if she wasn't watching a foursome of cops packed to the tits with weaponry exit the unmarked cars. She didn't recognize Ryan's face among them, but she hadn't expected him to get there so soon. These guys were local law enforcement. One of them caught her eye as she stood at the window, and she offered a slight nod when he noticed her tattooed arms. He returned her nod and spoke to his associates.

They moved out of her line of vision and one of them broke away toward the office. A moment later, the cop exited the office and made his way toward the door, motioning for her to get away from the window. Felix backed up and let the curtain fall in front of the glass.

"I need to check myself again," she said as she headed for the bathroom. Jordy only managed a subtle head shake. He looked incredibly tired. The poor guy had no idea of the rude awakening awaiting him.

As she closed the bathroom door, she heard the click of a lock, followed by a loud slam as the front door swung against the wall. There was a lot of shouting for Jordy to put his hands on his head but no accompanying gunfire. Felix exhaled the breath she had been holding. Jordy may not have counted her as worthy of life, but she didn't hold such a low opinion of him. A few moments later, the sound of a gun being holstered preceded the voice of a man outside her door.

"Miss Taylor, this is Officer Perry of the Montana State Police. It's safe to come out now."