HE had been rushed into a darkened Jaguar saloon and blindfolded, and trying to tell where they were going as the overpowered vehicle tore through the twists and turns of the small blacktop roads of rural COnnecticut was useless. He heard young voices making drunken jokes in one house they passed, so he figured they had crossed the state line into New York but he had no other clues until the car came to a screeching halt.

CHuwanna Dewe hauled him out of the leather seat and ontohis feet--also leather covered. She pulled off the blindfold. He guessed from the stars it was about three in the morning.

"Into the jet." she hissed. He saw through the gloom the shadowy outline a small powerful business jet, and was hastily guided up the steps into the cabin.

"WHen you get to Montana," she whispered in his ear, "you will know what to do. The Code must be broken!!".

She slipped out the door into the NEw York night, and the cabin door slammed. Turbines whined, and in moments he was pressed back into his seat by the thrust of an accelerating set of twin jet engines, lifting off for a long run to the West.