For the first time since entering Winston’s office, she was the one to look away. She and Rick had discussed this in detail. Blowing up the terrorists’ ammunition and weapons would be a terrific diversion. There was only one catch. No one knew exactly what was stored there. If their intelligence was correct, then Rick could safely blow it up. If the intelligence was wrong-if the terrorists had more-powerful bombs and explosives-then the blast would not only take out the stash, but Rick, Jamie and everyone else in the vicinity, including Zach.

“It’s a calculated risk,” she said softly. “One Rick and I are prepared to take.”

Winston glared at her. He punched a button on his phone. “Get Estes in here.” He broke the connection without waiting for a reply. “I assume he’s lurking around waiting to hear the outcome of this meeting.”

“Yes.”

Winston swore. “You’re putting me in a difficult position.”

She drew in a deep breath. The relief was as tangible as the chair she sat in. “I’m sorry for that,” she said.

Winston glanced at her. “No, you’re not.”

“I know.”

“You’ll need a transport plane, a jeep. I assume Estes already has his supply list ready.”

She nodded.

“You really think Zach is still alive?”

“I know he is.”

“You could be risking your life for a dead man.”

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Come!” Winston called.

Rick Estes entered. Jamie looked up at him and smiled. “We’re in.”

The cell was twelve-by-twelve, but Zach Jones couldn’t appreciate his spacious accommodations. The chain that ran from the floor to the metal collar around his neck was so short, he couldn’t stand without choking. Not that he had the strength to stand anymore.

He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. At least he could lie down if he wanted to. When he lost the will to do anything else, he collapsed onto the dirty straw in his cell and listened to the rustling of unseen creatures.