Jane gleefully showed the amateurs what they were up against by ordering Charlie into unconventional mode and leaving the highway entirely in a hot, fence-jumping, cross-country pursuit. The car bounded across a drenched pasture full of young sunflowers and knee-high Johnsongrass. The binocular cameras, mounted on their own reactive pedestal, moved along with a rock-solid technological smoothness originally invented for modern fifty-caliber machine guns. Jane’s nerves sang with anticipation. She was going where she loved to be: into the thick of it. Alert, alive, and in danger.