“I’ll help you find Ruby.”

Before I could stop them, the words left my mouth. Gracie’s hand gripped mine so tight my knuckles turned white. She didn’t stop me. She was supporting me. That? That’s marriage. Standing together even when the ground beneath you is shifting sand, not solid ground. Not at all!

Johnson nodded, just once. “Smart choice, Mr. Sullivan.”

“I have conditions.”

He halfway smiled. “Of course you do.”

“First. Gracie? She’s out of this. Whatever happens. She’s not involved and goes home, safe. No questions asked.”

Agent Johnson nodded. “Agreed.”

“Second. When this is all over, when Ruby’s safe and your files are back, I get to meet my grandfather. Unsupervised. Not monitored. Just the two of us. One hour.”

Johnson’s jaw tightened. His smirk disappeared. “That’s not protocol. It won’t happen.”

“So you make it protocol.” I stood up, standing toe-to-toe with Johnson. “Or else you can find someone else to help you, Agent Johnson.” I’m pretty sure Gracie was jumping up and down inside, cheering me on.

Silence. It stretched on between us for almost two minutes. Agent Johnson didn’t say a word, his jaw clenching. Then he pulled out his phone, typed something, and waited. His phone buzzed once. He read the screen, then looked at me.

“Forty-five minutes. Supervised. Video only. No audio.” He paused for a second. “That’s the best I can do, Paul.”

I nodded, looking over to Gracie. She nodded, yes, letting me know to take the deal. “Done.”

“What’s your third condition?” Johnson asked.

“Ruby. She doesn’t get hurt if she comes in voluntarily.” I waited to see if Johnson would react to that. Not a muscle on his face so much as twitched. “That means no black sites. None of this ‘We don’t know what happened. She escaped and disappeared.’ Also, she gets professional medical help and psychiatric care. No prison. No jailtime.”

“No. Ruby is criminally liable for theft of classified materials, Mr. Sullivan.”

“Allegedly. Last time I checked, innocent until proven guilty. Unless you’re part of the government and held accountable under the UCMJ.” Having a few friends in the service, I was familiar with the Uniform Code of Military Justice. Guilty until proven innocent under military jurisdiction. “And let’s look at the program. It cloned my grandfather. Faked his death. Then this same program followed her, tracked her.” I stopped and winked at Gracie, then looked back at Johnson. “I’d say she’s being reasonable if she’s slightly paranoid about people watching her, don’t you?” I sat down next to Gracie. “You want her to be cooperative? You need her to trust me. And you. She needs to know that you won’t lock her away and throw away the key.”

Johnson sighed, then nodded. “She’ll be evaluated first. Then, if Ruby is stable, she’ll receive treatment at a civilian facility. Monitored. Not incarcerated.”

I stood up, heading to the door. “We’re all done here, Agent.”

He blocked the doorway. “Paul, this is the best offer you’re going to get.” His voice hardened, got deeper. “Like it or not, Ruby broke Federal law and multiple state laws. Honestly, she’ll be lucky not to get life in prison.” He looked at the floor, then back at me. “What I’m offering you, Paul, is mercy.”

Gracie spoke up. “What does that mean, ‘civilian facility’?”

“A private hospital in Chicago. Medical staff. Not armed guards. She can have visitors. Unlimited phone calls. Internet access limited, under close supervision.” Johnson’s eyes darted between Gracie and me. “It’s a hospital, guys. Not Gitmo.”

I glanced at Gracie. She gave me a slight nod, rubbing my shoulder.

“Fine. But we’ll need proof that she’s okay. Photos. Video calls. Proof showing us the docs are trying to help. Not just dosing her with medication.”

Agent Johnson nodded. “Done.” Holding out his hand, he gestured to me. “Then we have a deal?”

I shook his hand. His grip was firm. Like a businessman closing a deal, solidifying a contract. Not a spy making a double-crossing bargain.

Johnson sat down. “Good. One more thing.” He pulled out his tablet again and opened it. “We need to talk about Ruby. When was the last time you heard from her?”

“Just this morning,” Gracie replied.

“Unknown number calling my cell,” I said.

“What was the conversation?”

I hesitated. Gracie touched my hand. “The truth, Paul.” She kissed me, soft, tenderly. “We’re in too deep now.”

I closed my eyes and nodded.

“The conversation didn’t last long. She told me about TRI and said the building wouldn’t exist until October 2031.”

“What else?” Johnson asked, never looking up. Was he typing on the screen? Using shorthand? Did anyone do that anymore? I wasn’t sure. But he never looked up, and neither Gracie nor I could see the screen. I know because I gave her a look. She shrugged, looking as puzzled as I was.

“Said something about genetic markers. That’s why my grandfather was recruited, and I have them too.”

That made Johnson sit up. His eyes locked on mine. “What else did she say?”

“That you would come. For us. Me and Gracie.” I stopped, doing my best to recall our conversation. It’d been a stressful two days. “Oh. And that the photograph was proof of the program.”

“Did she say where she was calling from?” After I mentioned the genetic markers, his head went down, eyes glued to the tablet screen.

“No.”

Agent Johnson looked up. “How long was the call?”

“Maybe, I don’t know, less than a minute. Like, forty seconds, I guess? She said she didn’t have much time.”

Johnson’s finger brushed fast across the screen. He tapped his earpiece, speaking to someone else, not Gracie and me. “Burner phone. Triangulated signal places it within a three-block radius of downtown.” He nodded, but not to us. “She’s close. Potentially still here in the area.”

“Why would she stay?” Gracie whispered to me. “If she’s on the run? Why not get out? Get as far away from here as possible?”

“Because she needs something,” Johnson said, looking at Gracie. “Or someone.” He pointed at me.

“Me?”

“You said it yourself, Paul. Your family. And the only connection she has to your grandfather.” He stood up. “Ruby’s not running away. She’s running toward something. Whatever that is, it involves you, Mr. Sullivan.”

The blood left my face, the thought settling in my stomach like ice-cold lead.

“We’re setting up a command center at a local hotel. You,” Johnson pointed to me, “will stay there. That way, when Ruby calls you again, and she will, you’ll set a meeting, and we can bring her in.”

“Just like that?” I said. I really wanted to snap my fingers, but thought better of it.

Johnson snapped, like I wanted to. “Just like that.” Opening the door, he said, “We’ll take you and Gracie home. Pack a bag, Mr. Sullivan.” Johnson went back into agent mode, losing all the bedside manners he had a few minutes earlier. “One of my men will drive you both. You’ll have an hour to pack.”

“Where is he going?” Gracie asked. There was panic in her voice, but unnoticeable to anyone but me.

“The Riverside Inn. Suite 412. It’s secure. Comfortable.”

“But he can’t just leave. Can he?”

Johnson shook his head. “Not without clearance, no.”

“You’re putting him under house arrest.” Gracie grabbed my arm, spinning me to face her. “Cancel this deal right now. So help me.”

“It’s not house arrest, Mrs. Sullivan. It’s protection.” He put his hands in his pockets. “There are other parties. Not all of them follow the rules. Or the law.”

“Blackwater Holdings,” I sighed.

“And several others. Blackwater Holdings is just the biggest one.” Walking us back to the SUVs, he helped Gracie into the vehicle. “One hour, Mr. Sullivan. Don’t make my agents come inside looking for you.” I climbed inside, another agent shutting the door.

---

We’d been married long enough that Gracie gave me the silent treatment on more than one occasion. The drive back home was quiet like that. She and I sat in the back of a different black Suburban. Different vehicle. Same professional silence from the driver and passenger. Same tinted windows. Same feeling. Had we crossed a line we couldn’t uncross?

Gracie’s arms were crossed. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I did.”

“For your grandfather? Or Ruby?”

“For answers.” I was testy. It was way past lunchtime, and Agent Johnson never offered us anything but the sugary pastries. I looked at her. “Aren’t you the least bit curious? About what they’re doing? And why my grandfather left?”

“I’m curious about whether we’ll survive this!”

“Johnson gave his word.”

“Johnson? Johnson works for people who fake deaths, clone bodies, and who knows what else! I’m sorry, Paul. His word isn’t worth much. Not in my book.”

She was right. And I knew it. But what other choice did we have? Run? For how long? Ruby had been running for two weeks, and they found her in a few hours. Us? We wouldn’t last two days!

The Suburban pulled up into our driveway. The house looked the same as when we left. Not that we’d been gone long. Our garden. Bird feeders. The fence we kept meaning to replace. All of it exactly as we’d left it earlier today. It felt like a lifetime ago.

The driver looked at his watch. “Mr. Sullivan. It’s 13:04. You have until 14:04, two o’clock. We’ll be right here. If you don’t come out, we will come in. And Mrs. Sullivan? We won’t be nice about it.”

I nodded to imply my understanding. Gracie and I went inside.

Gracie snatched a duffel bag from the hall closet, setting to work on packing for me. If there was one thing I knew about Gracie, it was the level of care she put into making sure I had everything I needed. Clothes. Toiletries. Phone chargers, three in all. She knew I’d lose at least one of them. Practical things went into the bag as her hands moved efficiently, shaking the whole time.

We had fifteen minutes left before I needed to go.

“Gracie.”

“Don’t you dare, Paul.” She didn’t look at me, just kept moving. “If I stop, I’ll fall apart. Just let me do this for you. Let me pack.”

Watching her work was painful and wonderful, all at once. My wife. Gracie. Standing beside me through eight years of marriage. Supporting every crazy dream I’d had. Who was now packing my bag for me to chase a ghost, helping to capture a cousin I barely remembered.

“I love you.”

She stopped. Turned. Walked to me. Put both hands on my face, tears welling up in her eyes. “You come back to me, Paul Sullivan. You hear me? Whatever happens with your grandfather, with Ruby, with Johnson’s people. You. Come. Back.”

“I will.”

“Promise me, Paul.”

“I promise,” I said, kissing her forehead. She pulled me down to her mouth and kissed me. Long. Deep. It’s the kind of kiss that says all the things words can’t.

“I’m coming after you if you don’t call me every day,” Gracie whispered into my lips. “I’ll bring four attorneys, too.”

I laughed, kissing away the tears on her cheeks. “Every day. I promise, Gracie.”

A knock at the door.

“Better go.” Gracie looked at my watch, “No time left.”

The front door opened. “Mr. Sullivan?” The shout reverberated through the house. Gracie zipped up the bag and handed it to me. “Come out, now.”

The agent was waiting for us. Gracie glared at him.

“Mrs. Sullivan.” Agent Johnson was outside, nodding to Gracie.

“Agent Johnson.” She crossed her arms. “Anything happens to my Paul…”

He winked at her. “You have my word.”

“Your word!” Gracie’s voice was cold. “Johnson, I want daily check-ins. Video calls. Proof from him,” she pointed at me, then at Agent Johnson, “and you, that he’s safe.”

“Done, ma’am.”

“It better be, Agent.”

Johnson actually looked impressed, grinning. “Yes, ma’am. You have my word.”

I kissed Gracie one more time. Got in the Suburban. Watching through the rear window, she stood firm in the doorway. Defiant. Absolutely terrified. And so was I.

The house disappeared around the corner.

“She’s got a spine,” Johnson said from the front seat. “You’re going to need that.” He turned around to look at me. “Ruby is going to reach out to you soon, probably within twenty-four hours. When she does? You need to convince her to meet. I don’t care where. Somewhere public is ideal. Somewhere we can control.”

“And then?”

“We bring her in, recover the files, and you get your meeting with your grandfather.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

He raised his eyebrows. “It is simple.” He turned to face the front. “Execution. That’s when it gets complicated.”

The Suburban merged onto the highway, driving to the Riverside Inn and whatever came next.

Closing my eyes, I thought about the photograph. My grandfather’s face staring back at me, smiling. The building behind him. It’s real. It’s solid. But it’s all impossible.

The Temporal Research Initiative. TRI. Your grandfather didn’t die in 1993. He was recruited.

Ruby’s words echoed over and over.

They’re going to come for you. Not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But soon.

A text alert chimed on Johnson’s phone. He read it, his expression never changing. But something in his posture shifted.

“Reroute,” he said to the driver. “Highway 61. Avoid Main Street.”

The driver didn’t acknowledge the order. Just smoothly changed lanes, still obeying the speed limit. Still using turn signals. Professional.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

Johnson turned back to look at me. For the first time since I’d met the man, I saw something in his eyes. Concern.

“Blackwater Holdings just arrived. Four vehicles. Twelve operatives. They’re looking for Ruby.” Johnson pulled out his gun. Checked the magazine. Slid it back in. “They’re not playing by the same rules we are.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means if they get to her first, this gets messy. Real messy.”

“Define messy.” I leaned forward, gripping Johnson’s headrest. “Ruby dies. You probably die, too. The photograph? Disappears. Then the people I work for start a war with the people they work for.”

My stomach dropped as we accelerated, the Suburban lurching forward. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

Unknown number.

Johnson nodded at me to answer it.

I swiped. “Hello?”

“Paul.” Ruby’s voice. Panicked. Breathless. “They found me. I need your help. Now!”