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steps on behind me. Before I reach the platform, another man appears out of the shadows.
    The train pulls up and screeches to a halt.
    There is only one passenger: Carl.
    Before boarding, I’m frisked by one of the men. He takes my cell and snaps it off. His pupils dilate when he comes across the gun hidden inside the pocket of my coat. As he pulls a switchblade from my boot, he mutters, “Jesus.”
    Carl chuckles. “Quite the little charmer, isn’t she? Trust me, her cooking more than makes up for her paranoia.”
    I bat my eyes at the guy.
    He missed the switchblade I’ve hidden up my coat sleeve. If I get a chance to use it, he better hope Carl doesn’t live, because he’ll end up in the cell next to mine, just for letting it slip by.
    The men take their places in the cars on either side of this one. They stand sideways near the doors adjacent to it, so that they can watch us out of the corner of their eyes.
    Carl doesn’t get up.
    So much for manners.
    The train begins my trip to hell.
    I don’t offer my hand, or even a smile, but slip into the seat across from him. “Did you really feel you needed back-up against little old me?”
    “What can I say? My own battalion of storm troopers is one of the perks of my new position.” He smiles. “You’ll get to enjoy them, too, soon enough.”
    “Oh? How do you figure?”
    “Ah, sweet wifey, you love to play hard to get, don’t you?” He plops down in the seat next to me. “Let’s stop the games. Time to kiss and make up.”
    He leans in to do just that.
    I leap up. “Don’t you dare.”
    He yanks me down into his lap. “Come on, admit it—you want it, too.”
    “Isn’t that the defense of all rapists?” I nod toward the security detail behind him. “Aren’t you worried about what your new cronies think of you?”
    “Who, them? Nah. They’re part of my well-trained monkey army. See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.” He puts one hand on my breast—“I can do this”—while his other hand takes my hair in his fist and jerks my head back—“and this”—then he licks my neck, all the way up the side of my face—“and this.”
    A fist to the gut has him releasing my hair—“And I can do this”—I say, crushing my heel into his foot—“and this, and”— I flick the switchblade to his throat—“this.”
    When I look up, the security detail is standing in the doorway, their guns drawn.
    Despite his pain, Carl coughs out a chuckle. Waving them off, he declares, “What can I say? She loves public displays of affection.”
    The men exchange concerned glances, but keep their guns steady—
    Until the train jerks to a stop. “Smithsonian,” pronounces a congenial automated female voice over the car’s speakers.
    The doors swing open, but the place is empty.
    “If you’re looking for a diversion or witnesses, forget it. My people took the precaution of clearing out every station between L’Enfant and West Farragut before we boarded. And yes, they will shoot you in the back if you run.”
    Okay then, I guess I should scratch “hasty retreat” off my must-do list.
    “Donna, dearest, now that we have the foreplay out of the way, why don’t we discuss a way to save Acme?”
    Slowly I lower the switchblade and lean back. “I’m listening.”
    He smiles. “What I propose is simple. We end our interminable separation once and for all.”
    “You’ll sign the divorce papers? Finally! Sure okay, I’ll have Alan send them to your evil lair.”  Free at last! Free at last!
    “You misunderstand me. The prodigal son—and daughter and other daughter, and let’s not forget you, my sweet—are coming home—that is, here to DC, to live with me. I look forward to being clasped to the bosom of my family. Well, yours, anyway.” He eyes me sideways. “Despite the fact they seem smaller than I remember.”
    Overhead, the automated female voice declares, “Federal Triangle Station.”
    Once again, the train slows to a stop.
    Run , the