Leesa Lambert ran her fingers across the faded ink on the wintergreen steno pad sheet. Her freshly manicured nails scratched over the intriguing words on the note the old lady had used to coax her into this bizarre rendezvous with its author. It was too dark to read the note, but the words had been locked into Leesa's memory forever. Her eyelids crinkled over brilliant green eyes as she tried to picture what the man who wrote this would look like. She caressed the paper as though it had come from a bottle and a genie would appear at any moment to solve the mystery.

She glanced over at the woman who had sounded so desperate when she first called only two days ago. The woman must have been pretty in her younger days. Still could be if she would do something about that hair and lose the polyester. Martha's head jerked back and forth as she peeked into the rearview mirror. Then, she would stretch her neck forward and squint into the darkness beyond the car's headlights. Over and over, she repeated the process.

"What are you looking for?" Leesa finally asked.

"We're being followed," Martha replied, staring into the rearview mirror again.

Leesa twisted around in the seat and frowned at the twin tunnels of light piercing the night some hundred or so yards behind their car. She cast a suspicious glance at the strange lady whose fingers were now tapping nervously on the steering wheel.

"They've been there ever since we left Route 50," Martha added. "They're keeping their distance, trying not to catch our attention, but I know."

"What makes you think they're following us?"

Martha spun her head toward the young attorney and blinked her eyes nervously. "You'll understand after you talk to my Wesley."

Leesa started to speak but thought better of it. In a futile attempt at relaxing, she rested her back against the worn seat of the old Ford Taurus. Silently, she chastised herself for agreeing to this weird request for a meeting with some unknown client God only knew where. But something in Martha Hart's voice was irresistible; just the sort of desperate pleading for help Leesa never could seem to resist.

It was more than the desperation in Martha's voice though. There was the mystery of the entire matter, the old woman's refusal to discuss her case on the phone. And even more mysterious, her refusal to come to Leesa's office for a meeting. Something in Leesa's gut told her this was going to be huge, and visions of her name in bold print on the front page of the Washington Post danced in her head. She twirled locks of her blonde hair around her long slender fingers as a smile forced its way onto her perfectly formed pink lips. At last, she would be Leesa Lambert, the talented attorney who won that big case in Virginia, not just Senator John Lambert's pretty little daughter who practiced law.

"Don't go getting scared on me," Martha said as she leaned down and pushed the black knob on the dashboard.

The hair on the back of Leesa's neck bristled as the road in front of them turned pitch black. She whirled toward the woman who now clutched the steering wheel tightly as she squinted at the windshield, searching for something in the darkness.

"Have you lost your mind? Turn the damned lights back on before you kill us both."

Martha ignored the command, instead spinning the steering wheel to the right and swerving off the main road. Leesa's head banged the top of the car as the Taurus shrieked in anguish and lurched its way over pothole after pothole. She thrust her fingers into the opening of the armrest, holding on as tightly as she could. Her heart pounded in her temples, and she debated whether she should throw open the door and jump for safety or gamble that the crazy bitch had some sort of reasoning for this madness.

Leesa yelped as the sound of ripping metal vibrated under her feet. The car crashed over another large hole in the road and bile flooded Leesa's throat. She came to a quick determination jumping out of the car was slightly more insane than riding it out. Her knuckles ached from clutching the armrest as she strained to see signs of danger through the clouds of grayish dust swirling beside the car. The car lurched to the right, slamming Leesa's cheek against the glass window.

"There," Martha yelled.

Leesa's eyelids blinked rapidly as she struggled to see through the tiny silver specks dancing in front of her face. She peered into the darkness, spotting a large dark shadow that transformed into an enormous oak tree. Gigantic limbs stretched out in arcs from the huge trunk forming an umbrella over the ground below. Martha veered off the gravel road into the high grass and weeds surrounding the tree.

The car weaved under the canopy of leaves, and Martha jammed the gearshift into park. Leesa winced as her chest slammed against the seat belt, abruptly halting her flight toward the windshield. She gasped for breath and wrenched her body toward the old woman. With a scowl plastered on her face, she tried to suck enough oxygen into her aching lungs to yell, but Martha spoke first.

"Sorry about that," she apologized, nodding at the rear of the car. "Couldn't risk them spotting the brake lights."

Martha reached up and flicked off the overhead light switch, then threw open her door and slid out of the driver's seat.

"Don't slam the door, okay. I need your help. Hurry it up," Martha ordered as she peered through the open door.

Leesa gawked at the woman in disbelief, but for some strange reason was helpless to disobey. Martha flung open the rear door and began tugging at a large bundle of camouflage colored fabric Leesa had resisted asking about when she first got into the car. She finally managed to pull the cloth from the back seat and eased the rear door closed.

"You gonna help, or not," Martha demanded.

Leesa opened the door, fighting against the urge to race around the car and punch this crazy bitch right in the nose. She stumbled from the front seat nearly falling as her right foot twisted painfully on one of the huge tree roots protruding from the ground.

She staggered backwards as Martha threw one end of the fabric across the roof of the car, and it floated down over the top of her head. Leesa cursed under her breath as she wrestled with the clinging mesh, trying desperately to free her head without completely ruining her carefully arranged hair. She glared at Martha, amazed at the agility and strength of a woman her age, in her seventies at least.

"We need to make sure the car's completely covered. So they don't spot us," Martha instructed, as she squatted to secure her end of the camouflaging around the bottom of the car.

Leesa muttered as she finally freed herself from the netting and tugged on the fabric, trying as best she could to completely cover the car. Convinced she had done the job correctly, she limped around the back of the vehicle and made her way over to Martha who stood with arms folded inspecting their work.

"I've had just about all of this I can take. This is a brand new outfit," Leesa yelled as she rubbed her palm over the little bumps and snags in the fabric of her new hundred dollar pair of slacks. "Now, you better start explaining what the hell's going on, or this meeting's over, and I mean it."

Martha pressed an index finger against her pursed lips and motioned for Leesa to follow. She moved through the chest high weeds stretching as far as the eye could see from the road off into a large field. Leesa shook her head and followed reluctantly.

Suddenly the woman stopped and waved her hand wildly at Leesa. She tapped her finger on her lips again, then whipped around and pointed to the road at the edge of the field. Leesa jerked involuntarily as a pair of headlights came to a stop beside the gravel road. A car door opened in the distance, and the barely audible conversation of two men floated in the air.

Martha sank into a squatting position in the weeds, and Leesa quickly joined her. She willed herself to breathe slowly and maintain composure. The powerful beam of a flashlight scanned the road and then danced across the field of weeds and grass. Gruff male voices grew louder, then stopped abruptly. The beam of light shined directly on them, and Leesa locked her eyelids shut as if she could magically disappear. She fought to control her breathing but could not hold back a relieved sigh as the light finally went out. She and Martha remained squatting as the voices again broke the silence and ever so slowly strayed farther away. For a while, the sounds of a debate between the men raged in the night air. Then again there was silence.

The metallic report of a car door slamming in the distance signaled their hiding place had gone undiscovered. The car engine revved, and bright red taillights moved slowly down the road. Leesa looked over at the old woman who remained still for a moment, then began moving her head back and forth, scanning the field. Her shoulders slumped over like Lon Chaney in the old black and white "Hunchback of Notre Dame" movie. She positioned her arms in a defensive posture as if she were expecting someone to jump out and grab her at any moment.

After a few more minutes of the scanning ritual, Martha slowly rose to her feet and waited for Leesa to follow before leaning her cheek against Leesa's. Her hot breath whispered, "They're pissed off they lost us, but they won't give up easily."

Leesa returned the whisper. "Who are they?"

The moon was bright, and Leesa's night vision was adjusting to her dim surroundings. She could make out tiny wrinkles etched around Martha's eyes and mouth as her lips formed a semi-smile.

"In due time, darlin', in due time." She said as she began the scanning routine again, only this time toward the heavens. "Won't be long now," she advised.

Realizing an inquiry would be useless, Leesa sighed as noise of the night began to fill her ears. An orchestra of crickets scratched their legs together, emitting a high-pitched symphony only occasionally interrupted by the guttural groaning of some lone bullfrog in an unseen pond across the field.

Martha displayed a remarkable air of calmness as she brushed her frizzy hair out of her eyes. She examined the sky as if awaiting the arrival of a flying saucer or some celestial sign from the heavens. Leesa started to glance at her watch, but froze as a loud metallic fluttering drowned out the crickets.

"Get down," Martha said, sinking to her knees and crouching down in the weeds.

Leesa quickly squatted and began duck walking to Martha's side. She scanned the skies trying to get bearings on the direction of the sound, growing louder by the moment.

Suddenly, the weeds slapped her face violently and a helicopter cleared the tree line and hovered overhead. The field was flooded with blinding light spraying down from the front of the menacing aircraft. As she watched it move across the field and off toward the main road, Leesa shuddered. As chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee, her dad had hauled her to enough Army Posts over the years for her to quickly recognize the Blackhawk helicopter. The voice in her head screamed at her for being so stupid. If the Army was after her new clients, they must have done something horribly wrong. That's all she needed, a spy for a client. Her dad would love that one.