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story for that.
    We didn’t do it.
    George opened his eyes and blinked.
    You’re still in trouble, California, but none of us is getting fried because of you.
    I’m taking the cuffs off, but you’ve got two weapons aimed at you, and all we need is a reason.
    When his hands were free, George rubbed them together, making Plato flinch.
    George was tempted to scare him with a feigned swing or even a shout.
    Do something about his wrists, the leader told Elena.
    Let’s go, we’ve got to move.
    They shoved George up the stairs and gave him two sandwiches stuffed with what tasted like summer sausage.
    The bread slices were nearly two inches thick and dry.
    He had to press them hard together over the meat to fit them into his mouth.
    His split lip stretched and bled as he chewed.
    He sucked eagerly from a bottle of warm, stale water.
    George wanted to sit back and take a few deep breaths, but this was clearly not supposed to be a leisurely lunch.
    He gagged and coughed, but he made sure to force down all the food.
    His best chance to escape or do some damage would be when he was unbound and they were moving him.
    He didn’t want to invest the mental energy guessing what it was all about, but he felt relieved to be alive and to have accomplished his one objective so far silence.
    When he finished, George quickly scooped bread crumbs from the table and pushed them into his mouth.
    He chased them with the last few drops of water, tipping the bottle all the way up.
    Elena snatched it from him and pointed toward a tiny room where he would just barely fit into a shower.
    Clothes there, she said, pointing to the floor.
    You probably can’t fit through the window anyway, but someone will be outside and armed.
    She left and shut the door, and though he knew she and probably the others could hear what he was doing, he looked under a cot and found only dust.
    He yanked open three drawers of a spindly wooden dresser.
    Empty.
    There was nothing else in the room except a window he guessed faced west.
    He pulled back a paperlike shade, and Socrates leveled his weapon at him.
    Get going! Elena called from outside the door.
    He shed his clothes and edged into the shower.
    He turned on the left faucet first and was blasted with icy water.
    He stepped back out and reached in, trying the other.
    Also cold.
    He turned both on and let them run a minute.
    He tried angling the showerhead away In.
    m him, but it was rusted into place.
    The tap water is not drinkable! he heard from Out side.
    He wanted to ask if there was soap or a towel, blur he would not speak.
    Gritting his teeth, George forced himself under the spray.
    His body jerked and shook, b t but r he let the frigid water flood him from his short hair to his whole body.
    He vigorously rubbed everywhere for as long as he could stand it, and just as he was turning off the water, he heard the room door shut.
    He peeked out.
    Where his clothes had been lay a pile of clean stuff, f f, clearly belonging to Plato, his supposed look-alike.
    Great.
    He doesn’t appear nearly as tall.
    A single hand towel lay on the bed.
    George made it work and threw on the clothes.
    A nondescript undershirt protected him from a prickly brown sweater.
    Military-issue underwear was tight.
    Gray wool socks started to warm him, and khaki pants with a canvas belt were tight around the middle and rode three inches above his ankles.
    The GC-issue boots were snug but okay.

    George pushed the door open, and Elena motioned that he should follow her back to the table where he had eaten.
    Plato stood watching, weapon in hand, but George wondered how valued the girl was.
    He could have had her in a headlock before the others noticed, and he could have killed her before they fired.
    She awkwardly dabbed at his lip with ointment and assaged his hands and wrists.
    He studied her face for my sign of weakness.
    The blood he had seen on her when he thought she was his underground contact was obviously not her own.
    She was a