Max just gave him a deadly glare that said, 'The only reason I'm letting you live right now is because we need you'. Max knew that Martin was their best chance now of finding Ess. Martin knew it, too. That was the only reason he had had the guts to come out of hiding and face them.

"Why are we still standing here?" Manda bellowed, exasperated at the delay. "We need to get moving." Turning to Martin, she ordered him, "Martin, tell us where this Angoli guy's place is." She made this demand with the complete expectation of getting an immediate answer.

"No way," he replied back defiantly. "I'm not going to tell you." Then, with a smile he added, "But I will show you."

"Nuh uh! You are not coming with us." Apparently, Manda decided to take it upon herself to do the negotiating with this pompous little imp.

"Then I'm not telling you anything." Martin knew he still had the upper hand at the moment. As soon as he told them where Angoli's estate was located, he would no longer be of any use to them, and Max would undoubtedly resume thrashing him. Martin may be reckless, but he wasn't stupid.

"Martin," Max took his turn to speak, "Why the hell do you want to come with us?"

"Because," It seemed clear enough to Martin. "I had something Angoli wanted. I acquired what he was looking for, but instead of allowing me my credit, he sent his bodyguards to take her away from me. He stole my glory and my reward, and now I want to screw him over right back."

"Wow. You've got some serious vengeance issues. You know that is a clear psychological link to narcissism." Max replied, and gave Roden a meaningful look that made his friend snort with laughter. That sounded like an accurate analysis of the arrogant young con artist and thief.

"So, why'd you wait for us to come along if you want revenge? Why didn't you just go after them?" Manda was not buying this whole thing. She hated Martin even more now than she did when she initially found out that he used her and betrayed her. How could he be so inept as to let another group of men kidnap her friend, again? Poor Ess. She was changing the hands of kidnappers like a runway model changes clothes.

"Uh, well," Martin looked embarrassed. "I can't exactly start the car." He held up the keys in resignation.

"What?" Now it was Roden's turn to lose his cool. That car was his prized possession. "What the hell did you do to my car?" He yelled as he swiped the keys from Martin's hand.

"It's not what I did." Martin explained. "It's what they did. One of the guys opened the hood and took something out."

Roden let an enraged noise escape from his throat. His car, his beautiful Bimmer, and some scoundrel had his hands under the hood? Now he was on the verge of jumping on Martin, and taking out his frustrations all over his face.

"Now, now. Hold your horses," The old man spoke up. "Let me have a look see under the hood. I'm darn good with fixin' cars, if I may say it myself. Might just have an idea of what's wrong with it."

Manda stood back, having no interest in cars and no desire to get even filthier then she already was, while the other four bent over the motor. The sun's rays were barely making it through the trees as the sun finished its descent, so the old man had a flashlight in his hand.

"It was something over here on this side of the engine." Martin pointed to the general area on the passenger's side.

It only took a moment before the man started another of his singular chuckles. "Well, well. That's easy enough." He looked up at Martin. "Guess the guy that did this, knew that ya'd have no idea about the workin's of a car. All's he did was ta disconnect the coil wire to the spark plugs. Musta took it with 'im, though, 'cuz I don't see it. I'm sure I'll have one in my junk pile that'll fit the bill jist fine. Trouble is, my junk pile's in the shed by my house. Least a' hour there an' back. If ya don't mind waitin', I can go an' git it. The repair itself 'ill take no time."

Max looked fretfull, and Manda impatient. Still, what other options did they have? This was the quickest answer to their problem. "Fine," Roden delcared, "We can wait for that. If you'll just do whatever you need to do, we'd all be very grateful." Roden felt a bit guilty, because he had experienced so much worry for the welfare of his car when his true concern should have been for Esther's safety; but he felt too weary to keep such selfish and unhealthy thoughts under control.

The old man, noticing the fatigue that plagued Roden's eyes, offered him the use of his cot while he was gone. Manda, too, felt tired and needed a rest. Before heading out, he showed them to the storage room of the store, where a hammock hung next to the proffered cot. Sensing Manda's reluctance to climb into it, Roden offered to give her the little bed. To Roden's surprise, she thanked him with legitimate sincerity before settling down into it.

Max decided that resting would be the best use of his time, as well. It had to be better than anxiously sitting and waiting for the old man to return. He laid himself down in the back seat of the BMW, while Martin relaxed in the front passenger seat. The last thing Max remembered was thinking that Martin was too close for his comfort. Exhaustion only barely overrode that yearning to reach out and strike him again.

* * *

The next thing Max knew, the familiar rumbling of the old truck could be heard as it returned from the direction it had departed. He lifted himself from the cramped seat and noticed that the sun was rising above the trees. Oh, no! He came to with a jolt. Did they actually sleep the night away?

Max forced Martin awake and pushed him out of the vehicle. He strode with determined anger towards the old man as he was just getting out of the aged pick-up truck. They had lost several precious hours, and he wanted answers.

"Mornin'." the old man beamed.

"That's right," Max narrowed his eyebrows as he spoke. "It is morning. What I want to know is why is it morning? You should have been back hours ago. Esther is out there with some dangerous men, and you stroll back here like it's just another day on the job for you?"

If the old man was taken aback at all, he didn't show it. "The first time I came back was hours ago. Took care of the car an' everythin'. Every one of ya was out cold, sleepin' like the dead. Even my tinkerin' under the hood didn't stir ya. Figured ya needed it. 'Specially if ya have a run-in comin' up. Can't face your foes with worn-out bodies."

Max didn't know what to say. While he would rather have gotten going as soon as the car was fixed, he couldn't force the others to do so in such a state of useless weariness. The old man did have a point. It would be best to be refreshed when going up against Angoli.

"Come on in." The old man headed for the store. "Git yourself some coffee and we'll git ya on the road in no time."

* * *

About a half an hour and a full tank of gas later, they loaded themselves into the BMW, Max and Martin in the back, Manda in the front with Roden behind the wheel.

The old man gave Roden a nod, and said to "start 'er up". Roden did so with eagerness and trepidation, and the BMW roared to life. He gave a grateful sigh, contented by the reassuring vibrations of the running motor, and felt sure that he had never heard anything so wonderful in all his life. With a look conveying the extent of his absolute gratitude, he got back out of the car to offer the old man a hearty handshake. The old man in turn looked very proud of himself, and murmered something about how nice it was to be appreciated for one's skills.