Buckaroo met up with the others at the Gatehouse lock-up, having gathered all five of the Crime Leaguers. They gave questioning the assailants their best shot, but found each of them to be mute on the day's festivities, as well as the upcoming weekend's plans. Buckaroo didn't want to bring up the coordinates, as he didn't want to tip their hand to the Crime League.

In a private conversation with Rawhide, he whispered, "Best not to let them know what we don't."

Rawhide nodded, replying, "What do we do with them, Buckaroo?"

"Call the local sheriff and have them taken in. The FBI will have to be called in on the attempted kidnapping of both Chicago Red and Sihing Will. They'll be especially interested since both of them worked for the FBI up until about three years ago." Buckaroo shook his head. "But I think the Whisper may intercede before it even comes to that."

"You think he'll step in on the transport run?" Rawhide prompted, knowing his friend's mind well enough to make the leap. "Or just off 'em?"

"Either way. I'm in no rush to bring in the FBI on this, anyway. Let's stall them until the weekend is over," Buckaroo said. "I've got some ideas."

He turned to the others now. "Mrs. Johnson! Is Peggy back yet?"

"She just got back, Buckaroo. Want me to brief her?"

"Yeah. And find out how Chicago Red's doing over in the clinic. I'd like to see everyone in the Bunkhouse in about an hour for a meeting. It's time we got moving on the weekend's meeting."

* * *

The Whisper, no longer in his warehouse but in his private office downtown, buzzed Mr. Lucky into his office. From the stereo hidden in his mahogany armoire, the melodic Lavay Smith sang "Blue Skies". As usual, The Whisper kept his distance behind his sprawling oak desk. "Mr. Lucky, good afternoon."

"Afternoon, Whisper." Mr. Lucky rocked nervously back and forth on his heels, hands jammed tightly in his pockets.

"Mr. Lucky, I understand you've not been living up to your name today," came the quiet comment from the darkened figure at the desk.

"Well, uh, not particularly today, boss. But the weekend's sure to go off perfect. I'm not sure what Team Banzai is up to, but they haven't quite figured out what the coordinates have to do with the World Crime League. I think we're in the clear."

The Whisper chuckled darkly. "That's nice. You think? You think we're in the clear." Quick as a flash, the Whisper was out from behind the desk and grasping Mr. Lucky by his coat lapels, a knife pressed against Mr. Lucky's cheek. The Whisper wore no concealing scarf today, and the scar on his throat grinned up at Mr. Lucky along with the Whisper. "Well, you'd better do more than think before the end of the week. Because one more screw-up like this and you are through; do you understand?"

"Y-yes, boss," Mr. Lucky stammered, eyeing the knife The Whisper held closely. "I understand."

"Good." He released Mr. Lucky and pocketed the knife. "Because I'll have Shorty take care of you for me personally. And you know how much he . . . savors his work."

"I know," Mr. Lucky said quietly, adjusting his coat lapels. "You don't need to worry about it, Whisper. We got all the bases covered."

"Great. Just what I like to hear. Except I could live without the baseball metaphors."

"No sweat," nodded Mr. Lucky dumbly. "Anything else, Whisper?"

"Not at all. Go on back to whatever the hell it is you do around here during the day," The Whisper told him, waving Mr. Lucky away towards the door.

As Mr. Lucky headed for the door, he asked, "Oh, hey, boss, what do you want me to do about our guys at the Banzai Institute? All five are alive and our radio men indicate that Banzai is handing them over to the police."

The Whisper nodded. "Glad you reminded me. I almost forgot," he said, snapping his fingers absent-mindedly. "Oh, well, what're you gonna do? Kill 'em."

* * *

Peggy hurried into the Institute clinic, peeking into rooms until she found New Jersey, who was writing a few things down on the chart at the foot of Chicago Red's chart. Red herself lay sleeping soundly in the bed, silently sleeping off the effects of the drug her captors had shot her full of. "New Jersey, how is she?" asked Peggy, tossing her coat and purse aside on a chair near the bed as she took her friend's hand.

"She'll be fine. We had to sew up a few stitches that came loose in the scuffle; she came to for a second and professed her undying love for dark chocolate. Does that mean anything?"

Peggy sighed with relief. "It means she's goofy."

"She'll probably gain consciousness in a few more hours. Four, tops."

"Thank goodness," Peggy exhaled.

"Where were you, anyway?" New Jersey asked her, removing his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose. "You missed all the . . . fun."

Peggy sighed. "Well, I was out doing a favor for Maddy here."

"Maddy?" He looked confused.

Peggy shook her head. "Sorry, New Jersey, but she hasn't been Chicago Red forever. Almost forever, but not quite. In Wyoming, she was Maddy Drake. But don't tell her I told you, or she'd kill me. She doesn't like people to know about her private life."

He shrugged. "Fair enough. You guys have known each other a long time, huh?"

Peggy nodded, sitting on the side of the bed as she answered in a quiet voice. "Yeah, we grew up in Wyoming, and she was there until we were 15. That's when things went bad for her, or good, depending on what mood she's in when she tells her story."

"Bad?"

Peggy hesitated, unsure if she should go into the whole story. She knew Chicago Red didn't want her life discussed, but at the same time knew how much her sense of secrecy kept people at a distance. She decided to go ahead and tell the skeleton of the story, at least. "Well, she was a genius, basically. She graduated at 15, with honors in music and science after skipping a few years and her parents sent her to college in Chicago. That's when Chicago Red was born. Shy - you know, as in Chi-town - for short, if you want to annoy the hell out of her."

"I'll remember that," New Jersey told her, smiling slightly.

Peggy went on. "When she was 17, her parents were killed in a car wreck, though, and her brother took off to join the Army. The state emancipated her a year early, which left her with a kid sister to raise and a lot of work to do. Her folks left her with just enough money for school, so she had a real tough time raising Robin, working at nightclubs, studying and playing in her band. But she refused to let any of it go. I hate to admit," sighed Peggy, "that we sort of lost touch for a while there. I was busy getting ready for the world, and Chicago Red there was living in the projects studying to be a doctor and taking care of a little kid."

"Doesn't sound like your average teenage experience," New Jersey offered.

"She doesn't regret any of it, though. She loves Chicago. That's where she really learned to fight. I went to visit her once when I was just twenty, and I couldn't believe it. That whole week was one strange adventure after another. Always, there was a fight going on at the club where she worked, and always she wanted to step in and take control of it. I thought it was strange at the time, but it was really a precursor to my life with Buckaroo, now that I think about it. When I first got to Chicago and got to Red's building, I was completely shocked. It was one of the most depressing project buildings I'd ever seen - well, I'm from Wyoming so I don't know too much about them to begin with - and there was Chicago Red. She'd dyed her hair so red it was almost violet, with those red high-top sneakers and her black punker outfit, and I thought, 'Oh no, what's happened to Maddy?'"

Peggy smiled, patting the sleeping woman's hair softly. "But I learned a lot on that trip. She sets her mind to a thing and gets it done. Her little sister, Robbi, is seventeen now, and it looks like she's a candidate for a scholarship to Boston University. All from that little box of an apartment in Chicago. She did fix it up as nice as she could, I'll give her that. And that's where she likes to stay. They know her there now, and she gets the respect she deserves. She's taught everything she knows about survival to Robbi, and I have to say I was surprised when she agreed to join Team Sobriquet. She's even agreed to consider joining Team Banzai when Robbi goes to school. I thought she'd never leave that damned apartment," Peggy laughed.

"You like talking about her," New Jersey observed, setting the chart back down at the foot of the bed. "She doesn't seem to like it too much."

"She's a very private person. She had some bad things happen in the FBI and doesn't trust people very easily anymore."

"The FBI? What happened?" he asked.

Peggy shook her head. "I'd really rather not go into it too much. I know Red would really be angry with me if I told. Basically, she gave everything to that job, and ended up getting pretty well screwed over in the end. Will Chang even quit the FBI because of what happened with her, in sympathy with her own resignation." Peggy shrugged, remembering Chicago Red's tearful phonecall that day. "She's not as strange as she likes to make people think she is. Yeah, New Jersey, I guess it is easy for me to ramble on about her. She's like a sister to me. It's easy to talk about the people you care about."

"Well, I know I'm not the only one who wants to hear about you and Buckaroo," he grinned.

"I can tell you everything you want about Buckaroo . . . that I know, anyway," she began, somewhat elusively. "But Buckaroo and I . . . we have our own life together. Just as everyone here has had their own experiences with him."

"Yes, but how did you two meet? Was it in Wyoming? Japan? Oxford?"

"I told you, people don't like to talk about themselves," she replied mysteriously, thinking of their days at Oxford then. "I will tell you, I was lucky enough to win a scholarship to Oxford, where I met Buckaroo. That was where he proposed to me, actually."

"Oh, yeah. Reno told me the story. You know, Buckaroo is such a fascinating guy. Every time I think I know how he'll react, he does something totally different."

Peggy grinned. "Ha! You're not the only one who's noticed that." She stood straighter now. "Well, Buckaroo's called a meeting in one hour. Be at the bunkhouse then." She noticed New Jersey's somewhat reluctant nod, and added, "She'll be fine."

"Oh, I know," New Jersey said, a little too quickly. "It's just the last time I left to let her sleep it off, all hell broke loose. If she didn't have the constitution of a small elephant, I'm certain those drugs would have hit her much harder and much quicker than they did."

"Security's been tightened, don't worry about it. She'll be up and about later, like you said, right?" Peggy asked.

"Most likely, yes."

"And ten will get you twenty that she'll be demanding in on whatever was discussed at the meeting," Peggy told him. "You really like her, don't you?" He tried to look away, but she caught his uncomfortable gaze. "Hey, it's okay. It's almost impossible not to."

"It's just that . . . she's different," New Jersey stammered.

Peggy laughed at this, nodding. "That she is. But not so different as most people think. And she likes you too, by the way. I mean, not that you care or anything, but just in case---"

"Just in case I was wondering." New Jersey shook his head, smiling at Peggy. "Okay, Peggy, enough with the talking. We've got some questions to ask. Like what is going on around here?"

* * *

Buckaroo, sucker in hand, found his mind wandering once again as people filtered into the Bunkhouse for the meeting. It was his greatest friend and mentor, Professor Hikita, who brought him out of his reverie. "Buckaroo," he said, "I am concerned about those men that the police are taking away."

"Well, there's not a lot we can do about it, Hikita-San," shrugged Buckaroo. "If those men won't talk to us, it's up to the police to take over."

"But The Whisper will almost certainly not allow them to live," pointed out Professor Hikita.

Rawhide nodded in agreement, but again Buckaroo shrugged. "Well, you win some - " Buckaroo said.

It was then that his sly smile gave his thoughts away. Rawhide shook his head. "You're a tricky devil, partner."

Buckaroo leaned in to Professor Hikita. "I'm counting on more of the Whisper's men to show up in transport. Sam and Billy are riding back-up. I wanted to send Reno, but we need him here for the meeting."

Professor Hikita looked up at the wise eyes that still looked to him for approval and guidance, those eyes that had seen so much for such a young man. He shook his head. "Buckaroo, I am pleased - and proud - to see that you have not forgotten that just because a man cannot assist your cause, you do not send him away to certain death. We learn much more by observing than we do by turning our backs."

Buckaroo added, "I have a feeling that once The Whisper shows his true colors, those men will be ready and willing to talk to us." He saw that Peggy and New Jersey had arrived, and the meeting was ready to start, and was more than a little relieved to see with his own eyes that his wife was all right. "Hey, Peg," he said, kissing her a brief hello. "How's Chicago Red doing, New Jersey?"

"She's fine," New Jersey said, adding, "She'll be up and cranky as ever in a few hours."

"Good. Except for the cranky part," Buckaroo replied. "well, everyone, things are heating up with The Whisper and the Chicago Crime League. I'm convinced that they weren't simply after Chicago Red today, but more important, they were after Will Chang."

"Little old me?" asked Will, wearing his usual black outfit and standing almost as tall as the door frame itself. "How did they know about me and Red, anyway?"

"Which brings me to my next point. The Whisper must have an inside source, maybe one of the interns or hired hands," Buckaroo replied.

Perfect Tommy shook his head glumly. "I hate to think that, Buckaroo. They're all like family. What about a bug?"

Pinky Carruthers spoke up then. "Nuh-uh. Me and Chicago Red went over this joint from top to bottom. Unless it's microscopic or freakin' alive, it doesn't exist."

"The fact remains," continued Buckaroo, "that The Whisper would rather risk five men than take a chance that Sihing Will might figure out what's up with those codes. Which means we need to go into Saturday with as much information as we can get about those codes. We can do that best by winning over some of The Whisper's men. Hopefully, the ones who were here earlier today."

"Do we have anything actually planned for Saturday?" New Jersey asked.

"Yes, we do. We've reserved a few rooms of our own. And there's a band playing that night that I think we'll want to check out."

"Not us?" Pecos asked, confused.

"No. As a matter of fact, Shorty Burke requested this band by name. It seems he saw the band in Chicago and has a thing for the lead singer, Raven Tibbs." Buckaroo looked at Peggy then, knowing that she would recognize the name.

Peggy's eyes widened. "Oh, Buckaroo, not ZuZu's Petals!"

Buckaroo shrugged. "Look, they may know about Chicago Red being in the band, and they obviously know that she's on Team Sobriquet. Or they may not. In any case, that was their move, and I say we play along, see what they're trying to do. It's a perfect set-up for us, really, considering it puts Chicago Red at sound board central. She can have wires running wherever she wants and no one will care; they'll think it's for the band."

"But Buckaroo, we've almost gotten her killed twice in two days."

"And both times she's done admirably well for herself. Okay, except for maybe running in front of that bullet. But I know she'll be ready for action by the weekend. And you know the band will love it; she's been asking us to listen to them play f or a long time."

Peggy knew that Buckaroo's plans had been laid, and that of course Chicago Red would side with him. "So what are these great plans of yours?"

"Simple." Buckaroo addressed the whole room now, noticing more than the usual perplexed squint from New Jersey. "We set up the wires in advance in both the conference room and lounge, as well as the suites reserved by The Whisper's men for their guests. Perfect Tommy, Chicago Red will want a team to help her set up those wires, so get some people in mind. We split up into teams, with those recognizable among us waiting backstage."

"Backstage?" Reno asked.

"Well, and under the stage. Depends on your preference."

"Back, thanks," Reno replied.

"Dibs on backstage also," chimed in Perfect Tommy. "Hey, I don't crawl around."

"Okay, Fonz," Buckaroo agreed, his grin creeping back. "We'll need two strike teams to cover the entrances on command. Pecos, I want you to handle that this time. Perfect Tommy gets a little trigger happy."

"Jeez, one nuclear scare and they never let you forget it," grumbled Perfect Tommy.

Mrs. Johnson, taking copious notes as always, let out a loud laugh at this. "Well, Perfect Tommy, you'll be glad to know that Team Sobriquet picked up anchor earlier today and is jetting their way over here to help out right now. They'll be in range of the visa-phone in a few hours, Buckaroo, for instructions."

"Great." He turned back to the group. "Team Sobriquet is figuring largely in Saturday's strike. Most of them are unrecognizable to the Crime League, so they'll be our floor operators. I'm working on a few other details-"

" - Like what we're supposed to do once we get there - " Rawhide suggested.

"As I said, we need some more information before we can do this right. I'm counting on all of you to be here for it." Buckaroo looked around the room, and received nothing but looks of support and encouragement. "Okay, then. I'll have assignments posted in the morning, so enjoy what's left of this Sunday before I get you for the rest of the week." The meeting broke up then, with Perfect Tommy and Reno heading off to resume their earlier discussions about The Whisper. Pecos and Will Chang went to the gym to practice their Tai Kwon Do and Kung Fu, respectively, while Rawhide and New Jersey spoke with Buckaroo and Peggy.

Buckaroo spoke first to New Jersey. "Get a copy of the minutes of today's meeting from Mrs. Johnson. Chicago Red will need a briefing when she's up later, so why not pass the information along?"

"Will do, Buckaroo. I've got to get to the lab and see if they've figured out exactly what Red was administered earlier. I know it wasn't anything too terrible, but I'd feel better about it if I could identify it for certain." He glanced at Peggy then, and she nodded encouragingly as he walked away.

"Speaking of briefing," added the always observant Rawhide, "I told Big Norse I'd fill her in on the latest developments after the meeting. She had to check something out at World Watch One earlier."

"Brief away, my friend," Buckaroo told him as Rawhide headed out the door.

"Men," sighed Peggy, shaking her head.

"And you, where were you today?" Buckaroo quizzed her.

"I went to the city to pick up a few things for Chicago Red. She didn't pack many clothes, and basically wrecked her only pair of trousers last night. So I figured I'd get her a few things."

Buckaroo studied his wife for a brief moment. "You must know someone pretty well if you can buy them clothes off the rack."

She laughed then. "I can't say as I'd be able to buy anything for you off the rack, Buckaroo. You move too quickly for anyone to get a handle on your measurements." She saw the familiar green glow of his beeper through his shirt pocket, and grinned. "You're, uh, flashing at me, dear."

He quickly took out his go-phone and turned the receiver on. "Yeah, Buckaroo here."

It was Rawhide; apparently, his briefing did not have a chance to take place. "World Watch One got a handle on Billy and Sam."

"No kidding? Already?"

"Yessir. They just bagged themselves a few assassins and changed the minds of our boys from the Crime League about talkin' to us in one fell swoop."

Buckaroo smiled at Professor Hikita, who looked up at him them from his papers. "Rawhide, remind me to give those boys extra ice cream with their dessert. Have them tell the police we're dropping the charges and see what they can do about getting those fellas back here in one piece. Tell them to be quick; Whisper won't let this sit too long."

"I'm on it, Buckaroo. They'll be ready to sing by morning."

"I don't doubt it." He also didn't doubt that Mr. Lucky was in no hurry to break this latest failing to The Whisper.

* * *

Chicago Red was dressed in black baggy shorts and a red tank top when she hobbled into the kitchen with her temporary cane, feet bare. She found Pecos and Reno sipping at some mare's milk. "So what in blazes time is it anyway?" she demanded brusquely.

"Nine o'clock," replied Pecos, glancing at her feet. "Did you come all the way over from the clinic just to ask that?"

"A.M. or P.M.?" she asked, a little less abruptly.

"P.M.," grinned Reno. "Dark sky usually signifies night."

"Sorry, I'm a little disoriented," Chicago Red sighed. "I'm actually an escapee of the clinic. I don't like it over there, it smells like a . . . clinic. Anyway, I'm back in my room over here."

"Did you tell Buckaroo you're here?" Pecos asked.

"Yeah, I saw him on the way over. He said to get filled in on the meeting at the Bunkhouse. I'm kind of hungry, though." She glanced at the mare's milk. "Okay. just don't even tell me what you're drinking. Tell me there's something edible in that fridge."

"We keep a pretty strict diet here," Reno told her. "Want some mare's milk? It's actually quite good once you get used to it."

Chicago Red made a face. "You folks would last two seconds in Chicago. Sheesh. How about bread? Can I make some toast at least?"

Pecos laughed. "Peggy said you would be like this, so she went out today to get you some food."

Chicago Red grinned then. "That woman is a saint. Saint Peggy, patron saint of hot dog lovers everywhere."

Reno added, "She knew you were coming and sent some food up to the Bunkhouse for you with New Jersey. I think she even left some clothes in your room."

"Cool. Walking around in my PJs is a little disarming," she replied, heading for the stairs to the Bunkhouse. She found New Jersey and a plate full of hot dogs, chips, potato salad and a Ho-Ho waiting for her. "Praise Allah! My rescuer and some real food!"

"You know, this stuff'll kill you," New Jersey told her, making a few last notations about the meeting.

"So will liquor and smoking, but that doesn't stop me. I heard that living is really bad for you, by the way." She dug into the hot dog, popping open a can of soda. "I understand I have you to thank yet again. And Rawhide and Buckaroo, of course. And everybody."

"Consider me thanked."

Between chews, she added, "Between last night's scrape and today, I have to say you guys must be questioning my skills."

New Jersey raised his eyebrows. "You seemed to hold your own pretty well."

"Thank you kindly." She took another swig of soda. "What'd I miss? Aside from getting conked out and all, I mean."

"Buckaroo and Rawhide questioned the men, who are from the Chicago Crime League, as you probably guessed."

"Well, duh." Chicago Red rolled her eyes. "I know one of the ones who grabbed me. He's one of Shorty's boys. Willy Barker."

"You know him?" New Jersey stared at her in amazement.

"I was too weak to say anything before I passed out. Yeah, he lived in one of the buildings in my proj. . . near where I live. Place called Cabrini Greens, although there's nothing really hilly or green about it. He was a real no-goodnick, as my mom would've said." Chicago Red munched on some chips. "He's tried to get tough with me before. No doubt he's up to no good with the Crime League."

New Jersey nodded. "Well, while you were sleeping, we managed to convince them that they'd be safer talking to us than out on the open road on the way to prison. The Whisper's just waiting for them to show their faces out there."

She nodded. "Wow, I guess Willy got some smarts after all. So what's the story? Any new developments?" New Jersey filled her in on Chang's renewed efforts to research the coordinates and the plans for the following Saturday. She seemed especially thrilled about her role.

New Jersey asked, "So, do you think you can get your band to go along with it?"

"They'd love it. As long as they get paid for the gig, they're happy. And what's another bass player with red hair? They're not likely to recognize me. They'll have their minds on other things." She shook her head. "So Shorty Burke has a thing for Raven? She will not be pleased about that, I can tell you."

"Just remember, we'll be there to back you up," New Jersey reminded her.

"My hero," she joked, fluttering her eyelashes prettily. "Just get me in there a few days early to set up the wiring." She giggled "Leave me in a room filled with wires and I'm in heaven. So I monitor the sound from the stage, and send signals to you? Won't you be listening?"

"Yes, but I won't be able to see anything. You need to give us the go sign. Perfect Tommy and the Ice Queen will be your closest contacts." Buckaroo had just filled him in an hour earlier, having spoken to both Perfect Tommy and the Ice Queen, who was due to arrive in another day. "You'll see the layout when we get you the blueprints tomorrow."

"Good," she nodded. "I'll need a few days in the lab to get my stuff together. Can you loan me some interns?"

"Talk to Perfect Tommy." New Jersey knew Perfect Tommy was in the den down the hall, and called out, "Hey, Tommy!"

"Yeah?" came the return shout from the den.

New Jersey shook his head. "Do you mind actually coming down here so we don't have to yell?"

Perfect Tommy sauntered in the room a few moments later, surprised to see Chicago Red, and smiled. "Hey there, hot stuff! Glad to see you're up and about. What's that you're consuming?"

"Real food," was her reply. "And incidentally, I may be willing to give up cigarettes to join Team Banzai, but you'll have to pry the hoagie from my cold dead hand before I give it up for mare's milk."

Perfect Tommy made a face. "There's a visual I didn't need. What's up?"

"Chicago Red needs some interns to work in electronics with her tomorrow and the next day. I figured you'd know who to get," New Jersey told him.

"Sure, I'll send a few around to the lab tomorrow. Chang's gonna stick around for the weekend's festivities, by the way. He's already asleep, though, I think," Perfect Tommy said. He turned back to Chicago Red. "Oh, and your boss called today."

"The Ice Queen?" She swallowed her food and a concerned look crossed her face, only to be replaced by relief. "Oh, yeah. Sobriquet's moving in to assist this weekend, right?"

"Yeah, and they want to take you with them on a short run to Kowloon Bay. After Queenie goes out with me on Sunday, of course."

Chicago Red laughed. "Yeah, right."

"Seriously. I finally talked her into it. She acted like it was going to be a meeting, but I know what she really means," Perfect Tommy said.

Chicago Red nodded. "Well, I'll give her a call. I'd be up for a short run. But only after Sunday. Even I need a day of rest now and then."

Perfect Tommy nodded. "I hear that. All this saving the world stuff can really cut into a guy's social calendar." He headed for the hallway. "See ya. And lock your damn window this time. We don't need any more kidnapping attempts tonight." With that, he was gone.

New Jersey snuck some of Chicago Red's chips off her plate. "You had us worried for a while there. Especially Peggy. She talked you up quite a bit while you were out."

Chicago Red looked away then, pretending to adjust the bandage on her leg. "Oh yeah? What did she say?"

"Well, she told me about your sister and Chicago and that if I really want to bug you, I should call you Shy. Like Chi-town, Chicago." He wisely left out his knowledge of her real name.

Chicago Red grinned slyly and said, "Is that all, Sidney?"

"Point taken and heeded, Chicago Red. Well, she may have mentioned a few other things, mostly about her great admiration for you and that you might join Team Banzai next year. Any truth to that?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. Why do you want to know?"

"No real reason. Just curious."

The sly look returned, which others would soon recognize as the pre-teasing look. "Or could it be that I'm just so fabulously talented and wonderful with my limp and my cane and scar tissue that you've fallen madly in love with me?"

"Red--"

"Oh, you are so in love with me!" She laughed now, stealing back one of her chips.

For once he didn't back down from being kidded. "Well, what's not to love, with those boxers and that cane . . . "

She laughed harder then. "Ohhh, stop. My stitches are itching. I know, I'm just a heartbreaker. And you, New Jersey, are all right. In case anyone asks. Promise me something." She pointed at him across the conference room table.

"Shoot, metaphorically speaking."

"After this is all over and we've saved the world, yadda yadda, you take me for a real date. Sunday."

"What, you're not counting last night?" He threw up his hands in mock frustration. "Good God, woman, three men dead and you're still not satisfied."

Chicago Red laughed again. "Maybe I shouldn't be asking. Who knows what the encore might hold."

"Well, it's a deal anyway," New Jersey nodded, still grinning as he realized he never would have gotten through this conversation if Peggy hadn't told him what she had and lifted some of the mystery that had previously kept him at arm's length from Chicago Red. She seemed much more human here now, munching on junk food and talking, most likely, like her kid sister. "When this is over, you got it."

"If we live that long," she amended.

Go to next segment of Chapter 5