"This isn't going to work." Robert stated in a tone of voice which told Helen that "This isn't going to work" was actually a euphemism for "We're going to die." Helen had to admit that in this case, Robert was probably right. It was no hyperbole to say that this somewhat unprepared and impromptu journey could get them both killed; from what they had been told by the people who had hired them, death was all too possible. Besides neither of them were any good at this subterfuge thing; Hell, they weren't even dilettantes of the field. But then again, who dabbled when it came to being a spy or a saboteur? It was a little like that hackneyed quote "You can fool some of the people some of the time" except Helen and Robert couldn't fool anyone at anytime. Helen had known that they were hardly equipped to handle the situation at hand before she had even started (although that hadn't stopped her form taking the job). After all, what does an amateur ornithologist and a violin virtuoso know about breaking and entering?

"Shhh!" she hissed timorously, fear clearly showing itself in her words, "Do want us to get caught!"

Robert gave her a dark glower before looking around to make sure that the guards at the gate hadn't heard them. Luckily for the ungainly saboteurs, one of the guards was busy telling jokes of the most doggerel and crude sort to his fellow worker. At the moment they were laughing about a man and his dog and their less than Platonic relationship. Robert shook his head in disgust before turning his attention back to Helen.

"Why did I agree to come with you again?"

Helen's face broke out in a winsome smile, "Because you and I have a death wish?"

Robert laughed softly, "No, because if that were true, I certainly wouldn't be here; I mean, if I wanted to kill myself, surely there are easier ways than crawling into the underbelly of a highly guarded post."

"I guess it doesn't hurt that we're getting paid a profligate wage." Helen amended.

Robert smiled, "That's for sure, I mean, I always wondered what happened to the government's money; now I know; it goes into the pockets of people like us."

His smile slipped from his face and he pointed at the gate, "Look, there's our way in!"

Indeed it was. Out side the gate was an armored vehicle trying to gain entrance into the facility. The truck was actually a proxy, the real truck had been destroyed by a run in with the authorities. The plan was, while the guards were distracted with the truck's papers, Helen and Robert would sneak on and be driven inside. The driver of the truck was actually a pundit of computers who would help them with their sabotage.

But the whole tryst relied on the hope that the runners of the facility were unaware of what had happened to the real truck and the real truck's shipment. If they did know about the run in. . . .

Helen and Robert would be killed. Whether be it a shot to the head or having their limbs hewn from their bodies one appendage at a time; once they were caught, the terrible possibilities were endless and no clemency, save death, would be in sight.

As for Helen, she tried not to think about it. There wasn't enough time to think about anything; neither the important nor the paltry could be given a second thought nor even a first. It could get her killed. It could get them both killed.

"Damn!" Robert whispered harshly as he tried to stifle more invective comments. They weren't going to make it. They had expected the guards to be more wary about accepting the substitute truck, check and recheck papers and so on. It was supposed to buy them the time they needed to board.

But they hadn't expected to encounter such a foolish guard. At the moment the fatuous proletarian was waving the truck on through the gates, never giving the papers a second look. Their contact had no choice but to drive through without picking up his important cargo, lest he look too supious to the guards.

'Not that the fools would notice.' thought Robert bitterly.

He sighed and ran his immaculately manicured hand though his voguish hair cut. Unlike Helen, Robert couldn't stop himself from thinking. 'What am I doing here?' He had asked himself that many times. He played music, that was his life. He was the son of a wealthy man; if Robert hadn't discovered the violin he would probably have a sinecure where he would never have to work or get his hands dirty. Out side of music, he wasn't adroit at anything. He was no good with machines, he was no good at sneaking around, and he certainly didn't know the first thing about defending himself. He wasn't even that plucky comic relief character who could pull witticisms out of thin air or partake in repartee with the enemy while the battle raged. He felt useless, was useless. So why was he included in this mission?

Robert didn't know. But he was here, and now had quite a quandary on his hands. How on Earth were they supposed to redress this disaster?

He looked over at Helen. She looked like she was going to be sick, like she had taken an emetic and was starting to feel its effects; her usually sanguine face had faded to a spectral pale.

"Any ideas?" he asked.

Helen shook her head and managed a weak smile, "I guess we could always expatriate ourselves to Canada; it seemed to work in the 60's."

In truth, she didn't really feel as jovial as all of that. She was all too aware of how serious this situation had become. While giving up wasn't truly an option, at this juncture, she didn't really know what else they could do.

Robert gave a short bark of a laugh. "A good idea, but what would your mother say? I mean, you spiting out all of those mores and traditional views about loyalty to the old Stars and Stripes, inalienable rights and apple pie to run away with me; we can't do that to your mother, now can we?"

"But Robbie," Helen said ostentatiously, "I love you! If you weren't with me my soul would be caught in a maelstrom and sink to the nadir of depression. I would just die without you!"

"Okay, Babe," Robert answered in kind, "Let us meet the Reaper together; then we could become specters, and together we could wander the mundane sphere. Or maybe we could float along a nebulous sky or glide through an ubiquitous fog or . . . whatever, but I digress. Anyway we could be together for eternity, sharing our young love forever. What do you say?"

"How verbose of you," Helen said dryly. "Really, now you're just getting silly."

"Not one for getting all maudlin, huh."

"Not really," She sighed tiredly, "Besides, does this really strike you as a place for silliness or sentimentality?"

Robert shrugged, "I suppose not."

For a while, neither spoke. Helen didn't know how long they had crouched silently by the fence before Robert broke the silence.

"Well, we can't just stay here all night; we have to do something."

Helen had finally found the answer to the question that had been gnawing at her brain all evening. Before that moment, she had 'kept her cool' pretty well. She knew that things were desperate, but she was able to laugh about it. She had tact; she knew what to do. But after Robert's words, she felt all of her savoir fare leave her.

"In case you've missed this, let me recapitulate the situation for you," Helen answered in a harsh tone, "we missed our pick up, we have no back up, we don't know exactly where we are and lastly, listen, this is important, no one except our contact knows we're here, which means no one's coming to save us!" she said, her voice crescendoing until it was so loud than Robert was certain that the guards must have heard it.

He clasped her shoulders and felt himself get angry, "What are you doing?!" he whispered so forcefully, Robert was sure that he was spitting. "Are you trying to get us killed?!"

Helen freed herself from his white knuckled grip and slid away from him. "Don't you get it?" she whispered softly. "They aren't coming."

The anger seemed to drain out of her companion and he clasped her shoulders again with far more care than he had shown before. "I'm sure that once they hear about the oversight in regards to our rendevous, they'll send someone for us." He sounded like he was trying to be reassuring, but he seemed to lack conviction.

Helen shook her head. "Don't you see? We're just patsies."

Robert looked back at her, clearly not understanding.

'How can he not see?' The sucpion regarding their true purpose here had been eating at her ever since they arrived. Now she was certain. She decided that she couldn't blame Robert for not understanding; after all, she had just barely seen the truth of it all herself.

But how she could have missed it before, she didn't know. It all seemed so obvious now. The dissembling smiles that they wore while they spoke of doing great service for the country; the odd kind of laugh they had answered her with when she had asked about payment. The kind of victorious smile that they flashed when she signed the papers. Not to mention the valedictory speech that she and Robert had been given just before they left the headquarters, about how noble it is to die for one's country.

But it was clear to Helen that Robert hadn't had her revelation.

"They aren't expecting us to leave here alive. Even if we did our job. We're being sacrificed, except instead of our hearts getting torn out on an altar in front of an obelisk, we're getting our brains blown out in this place. " She continued, feeling somewhat frustrated that Robert still wasn't getting it. "I mean they don't want us to leave here alive."

Robert felt his mouth fall open in shock. "But why would they want that?"

Helen chanced a small smile, "So they wouldn't have to pay that inflated gratuity they promised us."

Robert shook his head. 'How can she joke at a time like this?'

As much as he wished that her comments about being left to die were mere calumny, he couldn't deny all of the inconsistences. All of the times he had asked himself why he was here when he obviously wasn't suited for this sort mission rushed to the foremost of his mind. It all made sense in a way. After all why send two complete incompetents to do your job for you if you don't want them to either die, fail, or both. Robert wondered how in Hell he had missed it before, before deciding to chalk it up to being a member of the all too fallible human race.

It was all sort of disheartening in a way. While he had never shown any adulation toward people who worked for the government, he had respected them somewhat. He certainly didn't think that they would do such a heinous thing like commit multiple murder. Murder it would be if Helen's suspicions were correct.

"If you're right," Robert said slowly, "and I'm not saying you are, but if you are, then we shouldn't stay here."

Helen scoffed, "You know I'm right." She looked around as if just remembering where she was, "And you're right too, we can't stay here." She looked up at him and smiled, "Looks like we're running away together after all, Robbie."

He nodded and they crept from the fence and made their way to the frowzy and unkempt road. When they arrived, they abandoned their semi-stealthful gait and began loping down it.

"So," said Helen, "what do we do now?"

Robert sighed, "I don't know. I don't think we'll be able to go home, though."

Helen nodded sadly. She knew that she would miss her family terribly. But Robert was right; if the government wanted them dead, they would be dead. If not physically, they would be legally dead. And Helen wasn't about to endanger her family by showing up after her "death".

"We'll have to get pseudonyms, you know like how sometimes those authors use fake names?" she said.

"Not if we take you suggestion and go to Canada." Robert said, only half joking.

"Oh, Robbie!" replied Helen.

Both laughing and feeling better than they had in ages, they walked hand in hand, ready to face the future.