Millie watched President Hobart's brains shoot out over the rear seat of the car. In a space of time no bigger than what it took for the bullet to leave her rifle and enter the man's head, the agents surrounding him and flanking virtually every other building reacted. The small window through which Millie had taken the shot was peppered with a hundred rounds a second.

Each one of their armour-piercing rounds bounced off concrete and shattered glass, hitting nothing in between. Millie watched it all from the safety of the sewer system below and the uplink she had to the viewfinder on the rifle.

'Time to go?' Leng half-asked, half-begged. The smell was as rancid as sewers could be.

'Just one... more...' Millie smiled as she remotely pumped a round into the head of one of the agents before something hit the scope and her vision was compromised.

'OK, now its time to go.'

Millie and Leng pulled on their protective coats and zipped up. Leng went first, jumping into the muck with her hands hovering inches above the surface. Millie followed. The smell of it hit her so hard she thought she might go nose-blind. They trudged through it for a half-mile until they had covered the entire base of the stadium and two streets over.

At a T-junction Millie saw a manhole cover above their heads and decided they had gone far enough. Echoing sounds of voices behind them gave her extra motivation to jump up onto the walkway, strip off the polythene coat and toss it into the filth to sink out of sight. Then she and Leng both climbed up the ladder to street-level.

Millie pushed the cover open a crack to check their surroundings. They seemed to be inside a big parking lot surrounded by tall office buildings. But for one or two vans it was completely deserted. She breathed a sigh of relief and then pulled herself, and Leng, up out of the sewers.

Back in the open air, they paused for a moment to catch their breath. Millie noticed that Leng's thin arms were shaking from all the exertion.

'What about the others?' Leng asked Millie.

'They go their own ways, as we agreed.' Millie replied breathlessly. 'There's no point looking for them when - agh' she grabbed at a stitch in her thigh, 'tsss, when we can't help them.'

Leng seemed less than reassured. Millie didn't have time to work her way around the woman's emotional labyrinth. They needed to move, quickly; even if they had outrun the Secret Service, they might still be arrested by beat cops just for being women.

'This way,' Millie told Leng, heading towards a narrow rear alleyway, 'we take the back-streets all the way to...'

Millie stopped dead. She was staring into the narrow passage at something at the far end. Before Leng could look, Millie had drawn her pistol and pumped a round into Leng's leg.

The woman screamed and collapsed onto the floor, clutching her bloody thigh. Millie dropped the gun and ran, ran all the way to the manhole and pulled herself through it, leaving it to slide into place above her. Leng's screams penetrated the heavy metal and pierced Millie's heart, but she had to listen and be sure, be sure they took the bait...

Soon enough she heard footsteps, many of them, and laughter. Leng screamed even louder until someone shut her up with some kind of muzzle. Then she heard the voice of the man she feared more than any other in the world.

'Why is this one alone?' said Wilkes. 'Had any of you bothered to ask yourselves that?'

The laughter died down and the men mumbled apologies and excuses.

'Think first, play later. This is Sao Leng, one of Millie Slate's closest accomplices. Leng never did a thing she had to think of doing herself, so if she is here, Slate is here somewhere, too. She is also armed, and is almost certainly the woman who murdered our President. Find her!'

Millie had heard enough. She slid all the way down the latter and back into the sewer, running along walkways and ducking behind walls whenever she saw searching crews flashing their torches in her direction. She shimmied through pipes, jumped through rotating blades and skinned her knees bloody crawling through vents. Finally she broke out at the docks, along a narrow strip of boardwalk. The sound of seagulls and crashing waves filled her ears.

Without thinking twice she jumped into the salty water and doused herself head to foot. Then, crawling back onto land under the protection of the wooden pier, she took a buck knife and started to cut her hair. She skinned it all the way to the scalp. It was hard work but she grit her teeth through it, as strands of auburn hair fell in clumps around her shoulders and onto her breasts.

'Hey.'

She stopped at the sound of the voice. It was the voice of the man she feared more than any other in the world, except one.

Degan was standing awkwardly on the stony beach. He had a weak smile on his face and looked exhausted. He held up a hand and gave Millie a little wave.

'What is this?' She looked up and down the beach, expecting to see other men in suits and with guns. 'How did you find me?'

He pointed to a spot out of sight, further up on land.

'The car... its got a GPS to your location. I just followed it.'

'Oh, right.' Millie nodded, then continued cutting her hair.

'I've been looking for you for hours, actually.'

'Yeah?' Millie said, screwing up her face as she shed the last clump of long hair.

'Yeah. I wanted to tell you... I don't know, actually. I just wanted to see how you were. And then I guess I ran into one of your girls, she didn't know where you were but she knew that... let's just say word travels fast.'

Millie put the knife back in its sheath and got to her feet, dusting herself off.

'So what?' She bit at him, feeling remorse with every cutting thing she said.

'Well... shouldn't we talk?'

'About what?'

'Are you going to keep it?'

Millie shrugged. A small tear formed in her eye but she pretended it wasn't there.

'Yeah, I guess.'

'Then... isn't it best if you aren't out running around getting shot at?'

'What are you suggesting?'

Degan took a deep breath, pressed his big hands together and seemed to steel himself.

'There are great maternity wings at the new Compounds, Millie. Really high tech and super comfortable.'

'Oh yeah?' Millie felt anger rising in her gut. 'Are they just going to let me walk in, have my baby and then walk out again?'

Degan's eyes fell.

'No, of course not.'

'Then thanks, but no thanks.'

They stared at each other. Millie kept her ground, sure at each passing moment that Degan would just grab her and take her in. He had the power, and that alone scared her more than she could ever admit. It was up to him what she did. There was never anything she could do to change that.

'Alright,' He said finally, sighing with resignation, 'alright, just go.'

Millie started to walk toward him. As she passed right by him she stopped and then looked back.

'Is it going to change now?'

Degan frowned.

'What do you mean?'

'Since we took the shot. Hobart is dead. Can you guys even survive that?'

A look of dawning comprehension crossed Degan's face, and then he let out a small laugh.

'Ah... yeah. Actually what you did has already kind of turned public opinion. They know it was Nova Femen who did it, and to them that's basically saying all women did it. Hobart was popular, that's something you never understood.'

Millie choked down a knot in her throat. She wasn't sure if she was furious or simply devastated.

'Well... I guess I'm done with America.'

'Yeah, but then most of our allies are putting their own versions of the plan into place, so unless you've got a space shuttle in your knapsack...?'

'I don't. But I do see a boat out there.'

'Mmm. And a whole lot of open sea.'

'So I guess I'll be on my way.'

Millie turned and walked off, leaving Degan behind on the stones.

'It had better be a boy!' She heard him yell after her. She smiled to herself, thinking of how much she wanted it to be a boy, too.