“That’s the past, Lucas.”

“You’re right. And I know what you’re saying because I do believe I’m a different person now. It’s like a tangled fishing line in my head is being untangled. So I’m all good—well, nearly. Maybe still some knots.”

“A work in progress.”

“Yep. You know, and I find this hard to say, must be a man thing, but changes started happening when I asked God to help me. ”

“You’re more of a man than you realise, Lucas.” She threw her wrapper at the bin but missed. “And this Mackenzie would be pleased to know what you just told me.” Isabella shivered. “It would be good if we could zap ourselves to sunny Queensland now.”

Lucas motioned Isabella to stay seated and then got up and retrieved the rubbish.

“It would.” He threw the rubbish in the bin. “Do you really think the device is back in the bush, Bella?”

“I told the Defence people I had no idea where it was but suggested that maybe it fell out of my backpack somewhere. They had me tell them everywhere I went with the backpack on.”

“So it really could be sitting in the bush somewhere?”

“Could be. Maybe some ants have been transported to a far-off land. Maybe there’s a kangaroo hopping down the streets of Paris. ”

Lucas laughed.

A woman with a green backpack and a pole stuck under her arm nodded as she went by. She stopped not far from Isabella and Lucas, and proceeded to set up a stand of some kind. Out of the backpack came what looked like greeting cards.

Lucas watched. It was a good position to capture the attention of the commuters as they came off the train.

“We better keep moving. Let’s get back on the train and maybe head back to where we came from. If we’re being followed, they wouldn’t expect that.” He held out his hand and she took it.

They walked past the stand. The woman worked for a missionary organisation. They didn’t want to be rude but it was best not to stop and talk to people.

Thunderbolt.

“Mackenzie lives in Melbourne now.”

“What?”

“She told me her husband had been transferred to Melbourne. She said that she runs an online missionary-type business.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yep. Let’s try and find her.”

<°)))><

Mackenzie Fitzpatrick, nee Gordon, was ironing some clothes when her phone rang.

“Hello. Mackenzie speaking.”

“Uh . . . is that Mackenzie?

“Yes, speaking.”

“Mackenzie. You don’t know me but we have a mutual friend.” Isabella wondered if that was the right title to use. Should she have said acquaintance?

“Yes, and who would that be?”

“Lucas Fell.”

“Yes, I’m acquainted with Lucas.”

Yep, she should have used that other word. “Well, Lucas told me you came to visit him in prison and said it would be okay to keep in touch.”

“That’s true. Could I ask who would you be?”

“My name’s Isabella. I’m the granddaughter of the Professor who invented the technology you and Lucas had some involvement with.” Isabella paused. “Lucas is with me now. He’s not in prison.”

“Well, hello then, Isabella. So what are you two up to?”

“Well the reason Lucas isn’t in prison is because my grandfather jumped him, or whatever the term is you use. His choice is to be back in prison but things are getting complicated and at the moment he is acting as my guardian angel.”

“Why are you calling me? Can’t the authorities help you?”

“Well, I suppose they could but at this point we need to be hiding. Going to the authorities would bring us out in the open. And there is one crazy lady out to get me and I’m not sure being under protective custody would deter her.”

“I’m sure you would be safe. The authorities have their ways of protecting people—you know, safe houses and things like that.”

Maybe this wasn’t the right thing to do. Why did she call? What was she hoping to achieve. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we should just give ourselves up.”

“Listen. My husband works in Defence. Maybe I can talk to him and we can work something out.”

There weren’t many other options. They could keep riding trains all day, or they could give themselves up to the authorities. Surely Defence could protect them.

“You know, Lucas is a changed man. I thought you’d like to know that. I know you visited him and you probably pray for him. Well, I believe your prayers are being answered. He suggested we call you because he trusts you, and we really aren’t sure what to do. Maybe talking to your husband could be the best thing to do.”

63 – The analysis

THE CITY WEST POLICE STATION STOOD OUT—a twelve-floor purpose-built building located in the west side of Melbourne city. It resembled the bow of a large ship, ploughing its way through the city. The building housed major crime investigation and intelligence teams.

Aaron, in uniform, sat with Detective Taylor in a meeting room waiting for the arrival of John Nield, an intelligence analyst, who’d been assigned to their case. They were drinking coffee and nibbling sandwiches—a late lunch.

“We’ve got that James character but no sign of the others.” Detective Taylor said.

Aaron took a sip of his coffee while he listened to the detective’s update.

“The security firm being used to watch over the girl . . . what’s her name—”

“Isabella,” Aaron said.

“Isabella, thanks. Their watcher advised that he had some kind of blackout. He was feeling nauseated and wasn’t sure what happened.”