Page 108 of Billion-Dollar Ransom

SEBASTIáN FROZE WHEN he heard the sirens in the distance.

They didn’t sound quite like the police sirens from back home, and at first, he thought it might be an ambulance or fire engine.

But as the wailing sirens grew louder, he realized that, no, this was the sound of the law.

When they’d moved to Costa Rica, Sebastián had watched a YouTube video showing local cops—the Fuerza Pública—in action, just so he’d know what to expect. This was definitely the police.

And the sirens were getting closer.

All Sebastián could think was If the police come, what will we do about dinner?

Sebastián used to be a kidnapper with the code name Three.

He and his wife, Four, had finally stopped thinking about themselves as numbers a while ago.

They’d also stopped using their birth names when they arrived in Costa Rica and purchased new identities.

The names and backgrounds were solid, but they didn’t feel like Sebastián, Valeria, and Sofía.

The door behind Sebastián slid open. He spun around to see Valeria holding a tray of carne. She immediately knew something was wrong.

“Do you hear that?” Sebastián asked. “I think they’re getting closer.”

“Hear what?”

“There are more of them now…”

They listened, and, yes—there were clearly multiple police sirens.

“That could be anything,” Valeria said. “We live in a busy neighborhood.”

“Sounds like they’re coming right for us. Where’s Sofía?”

“She’s inside reading.”

Sebastián looked around their humble but beautiful home. The idea that they’d have to abandon this place and go on the run again terrified Sebastián. Where could they go? Was there any safe place for them?

An experimental drug had lured them to Costa Rica, which had a robust medical system and offered health care at a fraction of what it cost back home. Sofía was expected to make a full recovery after her most recent round of infusions. They almost couldn’t believe their luck.

But now Sebastián felt the blood in his veins turn to ice. What would it mean if Sofía was forced to skip her final treatment? Would she relapse?

Now that the sirens sounded like they were right outside their front door, even Valeria looked panicked. She carefully placed the tray of meat on a little folding table.

“I still have our go bags in the hall closet.”

“I’ll have to get the car and come back for you.”

“We can cut across a few yards, hope they don’t see us—”

But then the sirens seemed to fade a little, the Doppler effect bouncing off the sides of all the houses on their block.

When the sirens finally receded into another part of the city, Sebastián and Valeria realized they had been holding their breath.

Now here came Sofía, squinting in the sun, book tucked under her arm.

“Make sure you don’t grill the meat too long,” she said in Spanish. “Carne is supposed to be tender, not as rubbery as a car tire.”

Sebastián looked at his daughter, exhaled, and smiled.

Valeria reached over and squeezed Sebastián’s upper arm. Both knew they were going to have minor heart attacks like this the rest of their lives. But it was worth it. For her.

The family settled in for their evening meal at the small folding table out back, mismatched chairs and all.

Dinner was good, although the carne was a bit overdone.

As the sun set, father and daughter squared off for another round of Mastermind, the new family favorite.

As usual, the daughter kicked the father’s ass.