<P>She looked at her gun laid on the table. Light welled in one of its curves and trickled a piercing reflection.
<P>
<P>Alex leaned in from a wooden doorway. "Jock," he said, and motioned into the room behind him. "I checked out your machine. So far your e-mail hasn't been traced, which means nobody knows you're here. Yet. That's definitely good. But they can and probably will figure it out soon enough, so I'm going to make backups of all your e-mail, and trash everything, probably install some new securities." He paused and sighed. "We have to be very clean from now on. This is a very dangerous game we're playing."
<P>
<P>Jock nodded. He had adapted to the risk long ago.
<P>
<P>Jaime was unconscious on the couch. He had passed out minutes after their arrival. Everyone was tired. The night seemed omnipresent. Daylight would soon break.
<P>
<P>There was a shuffling noise. It was Dominic. He had risen from his sleep, and was wrapped in the blanket of the bed, though he was already fully clothed. He shivered. His body dripped with a cold sweat. "Where are we?" he whispered hoarsely, to no one in particular.
<P>
<P>Jock raised his brow. "This is my apartment... We're safe here."
<P>
<P>Dom nodded faintly. 
<P>
<P>"What's wrong?" Jock asked.
<P>
<P>"Nothing," Bishop said. "Bad dreams. Nothing." He looked at Jock's beer. "I'm thirsty as hell."
<P>
<P>"Right," Jock said, and got up to grab a drink for him.
<P>
<P>Dominic was staring at Jess. He had just noticed her presence in the room. His head had been swimming, but he saw her now. She seemed to bring to him some sort of ultimate steadiness, yet simultaneously, he felt completely broken and inadequate.