"That's why you got sick?" Billy looked at Jason with the unblinking directness of a child.

"I-" He hesitated. Was it? He'd walled this part of himself off for so long. Hadn't questioned his guilt, hadn't let himself even look at it. And now that he did, he found things weren't as black and white as he pictured. Yes, Martinez was dead. But soldiers died. It was part of the job description. And dying to save the life of a child, that made you a hero, didn't it?

Jason pointed at the drawing. "Lemme see that again."

Billy passed it to him, confused. Jason peered at, made a show of holding it close to his face. "Yup. I thought so. You're missing something."

"What do you mean?"

Jason bent over the paper. Drew a vertical line with four diagonals branching off, topped by a circle with a mop of squiggly lines. A smile and big hands. Passed it back. "There, see?"

"You drew someone with me."

"Look familiar?" He flipped his bangs.

"Is that you?" Billy squinted at the stick figures, the tall one standing behind the smaller one, a hand on one stick shoulder.

"That's me, buddy." He smiled. "That's me." Somehow.

I swear to God, somehow that's going to be me.

Billy stared at the drawing, then back at him. Then he rolled over and threw his thin arms around Jason, squeezing like that was all that kept him from being swept away.

"Shhh." Jason whispered, little-boy smell strong in his nostrils, sunlight and sweat. A weird blend of emotions shivered through him: terror, sure, but also resolve. And something else, too. It'd been so long since he'd felt it that he almost didn't recognize it.

Pride.

"It's okay, buddy." Jason paused. "Everything is going to be okay." He stared at the ceiling, watched dust burn in a beam of light. Stroked his nephew's hair and made him promises, realizing that he had no idea how to keep them, knowing he'd give his life to.

And then he saw something he never expected.

CHAPTER 30

The gun was made of purple plastic, and for a second, even before he remembered what it was and where it came from, Jason felt it tug at him like gravity.

"What the…" He trailed off, looked down at Billy. "Where in the world did you get that?"

Billy pulled away, looked up at Jason, then over to the nightstand. "Dad gave it to me. I lost it under the bush when I hid, but yesterday Ronald took me out to look for it." He looked suddenly guilty. "It's yours, though, right?"

Jason realized his mouth was open, so he closed it. Stretched for the Transformer, the toy his brother had gotten for Christmas in 1983, a robot that could turn into a gun. The toy he had lusted after for months, playing with it when Mikey wasn't looking, until he'd accepted his brother's dare to sprint across the El tracks and won it for himself.

It fit his hand so well he wondered if it was why real guns felt like home.

"It's… yeah, it used to be mine." He found himself smiling. "I wonder where it's been all these years."

"It was in the basement." Billy wiped his nose on the back of his hand. "Dad gave it to me. But you can have it back."

Jason laughed. "No, kiddo, it's yours."

Billy took the gun and began idly toying with it, folding and unfolding one component. "I wish…"

The beginning of the question made Jason wince, imagining all the things his nephew might be wishing. All the things he had a right to but could no longer have. In truth, he was scared to even know what the boy had in mind, but if he was going to be the man in the picture, the one standing by Billy, he may as well start here. "What do you wish, buddy?"

"I wish we'd never gone down there. To the basement." Billy spoke to the floor. "If we'd left instead, we wouldn't have been there. Everything would be okay."

Jason cocked his head, wondering if he was missing something. Down to the basement, was that code? Then he realized what Billy was saying, Wham!, like a million volts rattling up his spine. Was it even possible? Could it be? "Your dad took you into the basement the day the men came?"

Billy nodded. Jason straightened, put his hands on Billy's shoulders to stare him in the face. "I have to ask you a question. It's important. Can you think about it very carefully?"

His nephew nodded.

"Did he bring anything with him?" Jason remembering the last time he'd seen Michael, the guy fidgeting with that briefcase, moving it here and there. Never able to find a spot he seemed to feel comfortable leaving it.

Billy looked up and to the left. His tongue wormed through his lips as he concentrated. A long moment passed. Then, "Yes." He brightened like he'd gotten the right answer to a quiz. "He brought a bag."

"A briefcase?"

"Uh-huh."

Jesus. Could it be that simple? Could Billy have had the answer all along?

Of course he could. All he'd needed was for Jason to be around to ask. Being an uncle had just walloped being a soldier. Umm, duh, he heard Michael saying. 'Bout time you pulled your head out of your ass.

He smiled at his nephew. "Thanks, kiddo. You're a genius."

"I am?"

Jason nodded solemnly. "Oh yeah." He ruffled the kid's hair, then stood and started for the door. He had to talk to Cruz, let her know. And Washington. They had to start planning. Get the car out-

He froze, one hand on the doorframe. Took a breath, turned around.

Billy sat in the center of the room, right where he had been. His eyes were wide and one lip was trembling.

Idiot.

Jason walked back to his nephew, dropped to an easy squat. "I did it again, didn't I?"

Billy nodded.

"I'm sorry." He kept his head level with the boy's, trying not to be an authority figure. "I'll learn." He paused. "Will you help me?"

Billy sniffed damply, regarded him with sober eyes, and said, "Okay."

"Okay." Jason nodded. He hesitated, wondered how much to say. Then remembered how it had felt to do the right thing with Billy, how he'd felt the Worm loosen its grip. "That briefcase your father took to the basement? That's what the bad guys were looking for. That's why they came. Do you understand?"

Billy nodded. "Like in the movies."

"Yeah, pretty much. And before, I thought that they had gotten it. But now I bet your dad hid it. You with me?"

"Uh-huh."

"Here's the thing." He took a breath, made himself speak calmly, like there was nothing to be afraid of. "The bad guys, they still want that case. And they want to catch us, because we've seen them. They're very – do you know what determined means?"

Billy sighed.

"Right. Right. Sorry. They're very determined. They'll keep coming back."

"Why don't we go away? Somewhere they can't find us?"

It wasn't a bad question. Hell, it was one Jason had asked himself. But where would they go? Moving to a new city wouldn't do it. They could never be sure that Galway or DiRisio wouldn't decide it was too big a risk to let them be. They'd end up living like criminals – running, dodging, hiding. "Well, we could. But they might keep coming after us."

"How do we stop them?"

Jason started to answer, stopped himself. "Well, what do you think?"

Billy sucked his lower lip into his mouth, his eyes moving down and around like the answer might be on the floor. Then, suddenly, he looked up. "The briefcase."

A warmth spread through Jason's chest, a weird feeling he'd never known. Was this what parenting was? Had Michael felt this way watching Billy tie his shoes or do crossword puzzles? "That's right, buddy. There's only one problem." He paused. "I'd have to leave you to go get it."

Billy's hand snatched his own, clung hard.