Chapter 35

It was quiet in the night. The wind was calm, the cold less bitter, and the clear sky kept the land in darkness under the new moon. All of this was but a side-note in Jamie’s mind as she crept along on her belly, slowly inching forward in silence through the brush along the perimeter of the property. 
It was a large estate, even for Italian standards, the perfect place for someone to hide out from prying eyes. The unfortunate thing about privacy is that there is always something coming along to shatter that image. 
To that end, Jamie pulled her drag bag beside her and slipped the rifle from it slowly, working entirely by feel as she kept the patrolling guards in sight. They wore night-vision goggles, and the intel said they also had some thermal gear available. There was nothing she could do about the latter except keep as low to the cover as possible.
“Long-arm, give me your sit-rep.”
Michael’s voice was loud in her ear, making her cringe with an expectation of being discovered. She turned the volume of her earpiece down to the bottom audible level before responding.
“Long-arm is in position, setting up now. Have visual on three sentries, no primaries in sight yet.”
“Continue setup and stay weapons hold, we’re still waiting on the others.”
“Weapons hold, roger.”
She was tucked behind a small berm, a rooted ridge along the tree line that concealed everything except her head behind the riflescope, which she settled onto its bipod with the muzzle hanging over into the open. The silence would be shattered with the beckoning call of Death when she pulled the trigger, a thought that made her smile as she settled into the cheek-piece and worked the action slowly.
This was a mission. This was genuinely worth the effort and expense, and when the night was over, things would finally be finished. Amherst thought he was smart, hiding out in a quiet little town in a place owned by a friend from ‘the industry’, but he was about to get a government-funded wake-up call, one he would not live to speak of. Sure, there were things she wanted him to answer for, but in the end it was death, so why not do it now and get it over with?
“Long-arm, team is four minutes out. Stand to.”
“Long-arm is on-target.”
Jamie pulled the stock in tight and settled into her breathing cadence, calming her heart down to a manageable beat by relaxing everything except the requisite muscles. The crosshairs fell on the first target, the roaming guard that was walking a set path at a constant pace, making the shot easy to plan and score. He would probably see the muzzle flash and wonder what it was, but he would never know what went through his skull less than a second later.
The others would be alerted, of course, but they would fall to her rifle only seconds later, as they had nowhere to hide. They were just rental guards, of course, but they had the misfortune of guarding a wanted man and that was just how life was sometimes. They would die so that he would die, and that so many others would live. Such was the justification of the not-so-bad people.
Two minutes, by her mental clock. The team would be removing their straps and checking their weapons and gloves, making ready for a fast-rope deployment. They would be vulnerable as they dropped, and it was Jamie’s responsibility as the sniper to cover them until they made it to the safety of the mansion, taking out anyone that raised a weapon in their direction.
“Long-arm, one minute. Weapons free, fire at your discretion.”
“Roger that, weapons free, stand by.”
The safety clicked off and her finger rested oh-so-softly against the trigger. She could hear the helicopter now, a Huey UH-1, the favored deployment aircraft of the agency, though she wished they would get some Blackhawks. The Huey made too much noise from the two-blade rotor, the sound bouncing between the nearby mountains and getting the guards’ attention, even if it didn’t alert them to the oncoming attack. To most people, a helicopter sounds like a helicopter, but that was hardly a guarantee of surprise.
Twenty seconds... it was about time. Her lip curled into a soft smile as she took aim at the guard.
“Here we go...”

One of the guards looked up in time to see the first one fall straight down, half of his head missing. There was a loud, sharp rifle report that was quickly followed by a sickening wet slap and thud right next to him. The man he had been chatting with on duty was dead at his feet, the blood soaking his pants and boots as it spurted from the gaping head wound. He had spent a tour in Iraq with the British army and there was a flash of understanding in his mind in an instant:
A sniper...

Jamie’s third shot caught the man in the neck as he started to move, likely knowing what kind of trouble he was dealing with. A soldier’s instincts are honed in battle, and where an experienced man would realize and move to cover, the fresh meat would simply stand there in shock, unknowingly waiting to die. 
It was too bad, too. Good soldiers are just too hard to come by.
She could see that Michael was moving from the sound of the first shot, dashing into the pitch-black yard and tossing a blinking Infrared strobe light into the center of it. It was only visible in night-vision gear and would act as a reference point for the helo when it came to a hover to drop the teams.
“Hotel One, this is Charlie Six: Deploy, deploy, deploy.”
“Hotel One is deploy. Ten seconds, gentlemen...”
Jamie could hear the rotor’s wash whistling through the budding branches of the trees as it came in low, it’s skids nearly touching the tops, and her eyes swept across the side of the house, watching for anything resembling movement that could indicate an attack. 
The helo entered the yard and nosed back hard, the rotor’s lift dragging the aircraft from forward flight and slamming back down to level just as quickly. A pair of girls slid down the ropes dropped from each side of the cabin, one letting go early and free-falling fifteen feet, knees bending to absorb the impact and rolling to her feet, sub-machinegun at the ready to cover the others as they touched down. 
They split up into pairs to secure the landing zone and waited for the handlers to drop next, sliding down at a slower pace with the much safer rappelling gear. The men paired up with their cyborgs and split up to surround the building, blasted by the helo’s wash as the pilot added collective and pulled away to circle the area.
“Charlie Two and Three- Thermals show four persons in the kitchen area. Secure that area from the side entrance and proceed up the rear stairs. Charlie One and Four- Move in and secure the front stairs and living areas. More guards are known to be in that area. Keep it safe, keep it clean.”
“One copies.”
“Three copies.”
She could see the hand motions of the first team’s handler, Jean she suspected, and the heavy door was kicked open with a resounding thud. A flash-bang fired and the teams moved in, shots from rifle and pistol alike indicating a furious moment of fighting. She could barely see into the interior of the entryway from her angle and the lack of real action made her tense with frustration. She wanted to be in there, too.
“Long-arm, Charlie Three- We are pinned down in the rear hallway by a pair of guards. It’s a covered walkway with glass on the south side. We need fire-support, immediately!” Hilshire’s voice sounded distressed enough to know he wasn’t exaggerating.
“Long-arm, Charlie Six. Get moving. There’s a good position four-hundred meters to the south, behind the work shed.”
“Long-arm is moving!”
Jamie jumped up and folded the bipod, and then started to sprint as fast as she could, her hands carefully gripping the fresh magazine from her vest as she swapped it with the used one in the rifle. It was a lot tougher on the run but she managed, tucking the used one in the empty pocket and ducking under a tree branch that she nearly missed in her night-vision goggles. She could see the place Michael had mentioned through the trees bordering the clearing and it would only be another minute before she rounded the ridge and made it there.
Her right foot hit an animal burrow and she fell, her foot sinking and lodging into it as the rest of her landed hard on the cold ground. There was a sharp pain from it, but it faded as she pulled her foot out of the dirt and picked up the rifle from where it had smacked the ground. The sound of a firefight pushed her to move faster, working hard to ignore the limp and make it to the firing position as fast as possible.
“Hilshire’s hit! Damn it!”
Triela’s warning was painful to hear, Jamie’s heart mirroring the pain the other girl was feeling as her handler was wounded. The sound of her shotgun seemed like artillery, booming away from an unknown distance, never ceasing.
“I’m almost there! Hang on, Triela!”
She jumped down the hill to the ledge Michael had seen, sliding down on her back and stopping at the base, her back planted in the soil as the rifle came up. Her left foot set against a large rock and her left arm rested on her knee for support, helping to steady the muzzle. A flick of the thumb clicked off the safety and her sights lined up on the first man she could see on the western side of the hallway.
“Long-arm is on-target. Confirm your position on the East side of the hallway.”
“East side, Long-arm. All friendlies are on the East side!”
“Stand by...”
Jamie held a breath and fired, the recoil hammering her shoulder and lifting the muzzle because of her unsupported position. When the sights came back down she could see she had missed wide right, smashing the glass in the third window to the right. 
She glanced at her scope and found what she had feared- a dent in the narrow part of the tube, just in front of the windage screw. The scope was ruined from the impact when it fell. There was no time to adjust it out, if it even would, so she pulled the pins and removed it, tossing it carelessly aside and flipping up her back-ups. 
The range was only three hundred yards at most but without the optics it seemed like more than a mile. The open sights lined up and she fired again at the target before he could duck back into cover, the sound and stock pounding her as a dark splotch formed on the wall in the hallway. She flipped the bolt through its cycle and aimed again, waiting for the next man to show his face from the room he was cowering in. 
There was a bit of movement from the right, her eyes quickly realizing it to be Triela’s pigtails bouncing as she dashed past the room and lobbed a grenade in. It exploded a second later with fragments ripping through the walls of the room and shattering the glass in the hallway.
Jamie lifted her rifle from the target and watched Triela swing around the doorway to clear it with Maria as backup.
“Triela here, hallway is secure. Continuing with second floor sweep.”
“Charlie Six, Charlie Three. I’m okay- it’s just a minor wound. I’ll need some help out the door, though.” Jamie could see Mario helping Hilshire to the stairs, their motions typical for a leg-wound.
“Hotel One- LZ is secure. You are cleared for pick-up. Long-arm, things have quieted down. Grab your gear and meet me at the front entrance. Good work.” Michael sounded tired, the nights of planning and waiting weighing heavily on him.
“Copy, Long-arm is on stand-down. Thanks.”

The helo landed in the same spot, guiding off the strobe that was still blinking away. The winds from it whipped Jamie’s hair around as she walked around it’s rotor-arc, and she switched her rifle to her left shoulder to free her right hand to brush the strands away. Michael was standing in the doorway, waiting for her.
“It’s a cold night. Did you keep warm?” His desire to make small talk so soon after the mission meant that something was wrong. Things did not go as he had wanted them to.
Jamie shrugged and mounted the steps slowly, feeling her ankle throbbing but refusing to show weakness yet again. “Warm enough, I guess. I could have used my spotter beside me.” The smile she gave told Michael that she meant him.
“I know. I didn’t have any easy time tonight, though. Come in and warm up while we sort out this mess.”
The helicopter’s medic was tending to Hilshire’s leg wound while two of the girls, Rico and Chiara, were guarding over a pair of surviving minions. Triela entered the scene from the stairs, stepping quickly over to Hilshire to check on his condition while Maria went to Michael and Mario to report in.
“Second floor secure. We’ve made a check of the bodies and have found no one that matches Amherst’s description.”
The men look between each other and read the same thought.
“Bad Intel...”
“It sure looks like it, Michael.”
“I’m going to tear that limey fuck’s balls off when we get back.” The harsh word from Michael made Jamie’s eyes snap up and around the room, instinctively looking for dangers.
“Let me know if you want help.” Mario stepped to the front door to look out at the view, the sky just starting to lighten over the hills and fields. “There’s got to be something here... I can feel it.”
“Yeah.” Michael could feel it too. Every instinct he had was telling him this was the right place for answers. “Jamie!”
The girl snapped to attention at Michael’s loud command without thinking, still in her ‘soldier’ mode. “Sir!”
“Take Maria and search the entire house, room for room. I want every door checked. Look under desks and nightstands for hidden switches. Check behind dressers and inside closets. I want every inch of this place tossed until we find something worth looking at or shooting at. Use your instincts. If something doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t.”
“Yes, sir!”
Michael tossed his G36 over and she caught it with her free hand, and then she quickly put her rifle in the drag bag and unloaded her unnecessary equipment into her backpack, lightening her load.
“You ready?” Maria smiled at her friend, feeling strong and upbeat after a fairly successful mission.
“Yeah. Lets go.”

The handlers watched their girls head up the stairs and disappear around the corner out of sight, both warmed by the strength they were showing. Hilshire waved to them as he was helped out the door by the medic and Triela, with tiny Chiara looking overwhelmed by the mass of gear she was carrying out for them.
Jean stepped over, pulling the phone from his ear and ending the call he had made.
“Ferro’s on her way with the support team. They’ll make sure this place is checked thoroughly for intel when they arrive. I’m heading back to the agency with Hilshire and the girls, so I’m leaving you in charge, Christiansen.”
“Not a problem. I think we have everything pretty much in hand. There’s something here that will lead us to him, and we’re going to find it.”
“In case the press or others show up, this was a drug raid. Ferro has the details.”
“Okay.”
Jean stopped at the door, hesitating in the words he felt obligated to say. “Christiansen, Greco... Be sure to tell your cyborgs how well they performed tonight.”
The men looked at each other, unsure as to what was wrong with Jean that made him say such a thing, but he was gone before they could question it and Michael had to fight down a cold shiver that went through his body.
“That was strange.”
“Yeah. I thought so too.”

“Room clear!”
Jamie flicked off the room’s light and joined Maria in the hallway, already bored with the search in the upstairs rooms. It would need some serious work from a maid after what she had done to it, but she was being thorough in the way that Michael taught her and that was all that mattered.
“Say, Jamie...”
“Hm?” Jamie opened the next door in the hallway, finding only a linen closet.
“Mario and I are heading for Miami, Florida next week to look into some Cosa Nostra connections there. It’s something to do with the Sicily branch’s connections to the FRF.”
“That’s great! Florida is a nice place. My family used to vacation there every few years or so.”
“It’s warm there, right?” Maria leaned against the wall as Jamie dug through the closet, looking for anything they might be interested in.
“Yes. All year long, as a matter of fact. It’ll probably average out about seventy-five or eighty the whole time you’re there. In the summer you can set your watch by the afternoon showers, but it should be dry this time of year.”
Maria quickly made the calculations for the temperature conversion in her head, reminded once again that Jamie was an American at heart. “That’s sounds great.”
Jamie closed the closet and started towards the next room down the hall, her rifle up but lowered, only a half-second away from firing at a target. “What brought this up?”
“I’m just excited about it. It’ll be my first time in America.” Maria opened the door carefully, her La France covering the room as she felt for the switch. “I’m hoping to get a chance to go swimming in the ocean. Mario said it’s as clear and blue as the sky.”
“Well, it is nice, but I personally think the Mediterranean is better.” Jamie stepped to the far wall and started rooting through the contents of a closet in this guest room. “Have you picked out a swimsuit yet?”
“Er, no. Should I have?” She pulled a painting from the wall and glanced over the back, looking for a hidden document or something someone would tape there to hide.
“Well of course! How is Mario supposed to know that you really want to hit the beach if you don’t drag him out to look for swimwear?” The closet was empty of anything but unused garment bags. She went to the bed next, flipping over the mattress to search it and the box spring. 
“I guarantee you that I would be out with Michael, hitting every designer shop until I found one that drove him wild.” Jamie smiled at the thought as the scene appeared in her head. “I would know he liked it because he would turn and look away uncomfortably. He has never been comfortable with my looking attractive because he fears that he might enjoy it.”
“Is that why you’ve been wearing the skirts lately...”
Jamie finished searching her side of the room and nodded at Maria, following her out and shutting off the light. “Yep. When we were all dressed up in Paris, I could tell that he thought I was the most beautiful woman in the world. That feeling, knowing the man you love thinks you’re the most beautiful, is the best feeling there is.”
They had reached the back stairs, the place where the team had been pinned down. There were holes in the walls and floor where the enemy fire had landed, focused around the door to the room where Maria and the others had sought cover.
“So... What kind should I get?” Maria picked up the spent magazines from hers and the others’ guns, putting them in her belt pouch.
“Swimsuit?”
“Yeah. What do you think of bikinis?”
“You’re too skinny for bikinis. For a bikini to be an instrument of allure, you have to have a nice rack.” 
“I’m not trying to lure Mario in, Jamie. He’s too old and doesn’t see me like that.” They started down the stairs, their attention now entirely off of their mission. “I’m just looking for something comfortable.”
“One-piece it, then. Get one with a plunge back and a low-cut front, and maybe the high-cut legs. When it comes to males, the more you show, the more they’re interested. This will keep Mario at a comfortable distance and the boys in striking range. Then you get to beat them off with a stick.”
“Hmm...”
Jamie could see her friend thinking about it, and the girl-talk was easing the tension that had built during the battle, bleeding the stress away. Truth be told, Jamie envied her friend. A vacation in Miami, with warm weather and swimming, and her handler by her side... It was something Jamie wished she and Michael could share together.
“Jamie, report.”
“We’re at the back stairs and have completed a search of the second floor.  No luck yet.”
“We’re almost finished with the ground floor, same results. Go ahead and check the basement. The entrance is in the kitchen.”
“Acknowledged.” She nodded at Maria, getting her mind back in the game. “Let go.”

The basement was neat and orderly, though musty smelling. The walls were stone and ancient mortar, a stark contrast to the modern mansion above, and Jamie found herself overcome with curiosity over it as she poked among the shelves of boxes and racks of wine. There was even a ring with some torches in it, long forgotten since the installation of a crude electrical lighting system.
“Creepy down here...” Maria shivered slightly as she peered into the blackness of a tunnel.
“Yeah.” There was something else. It was a familiar feeling, one whose alarms she could not silence in her head. “I sense evil...”
“What?”
“Yeah... I feel it now. It’s cold and slimy, and stinks of death. We’re in the right place.”
Maria watched her with a questioning look, not understand what was happening to her friend. “You’re talking nonsense, Jamie.”
“Trust in me.” She found a blade switch for the tunnel lights, but nothing happened when she raised the lever. There were a few mini flares in her vest and she lit one, tossing it down the tunnel and realizing that it went a lot further than she thought. She keyed her radio.
“Michael, I think we may have found something down here.”
“What do you have?”
“It’s a tunnel, much older than the mansion. It looks like they built on top of an older foundation here to purposely keep it intact. It’s got that feel to it. I need my night-vision gear to proceed.”
“Roger that. I’ll be down in a few minutes. Michael out.”
Jamie ventured a few meters into the tunnel, listening carefully for any sounds that came from within. Maria tried to peer into the depths past the flare but it was dark and foreboding.
“That is really creepy.”
“Are you afraid?”
The younger girl hesitated, afraid to admit weakness but knowing that her friend would understand and not hold it against her.
“It reminds me of the dark alleys in Madrid. They were filled with rapists and gangs of Latinos that were trying to take over the streets from our own gangs. A girl has only her wits to guide her.”
“Not now.” Jamie smiled, still looking into the depths and not feeling any fear. “Now you have strength and firepower on your side. And you have me.”
“That’s why you’re my friend.”
They turned as Michael’s steps echoed down the stone stairway, his hands carrying three sets of NVG’s.
“Archaeology or spelunking?”
“We’ll have to wait and see.”
The girls took the goggles and adjusted them on their heads, then checked the IR illuminators to make sure they were working. In pitch-black conditions, the goggles needed infrared light to be useful.
Michael was staring into the blackness, his hands flexing nervously. Jamie stepped next to him and touched her hand to his, lending the support of her love without actually holding his hand.
“You feel it too?”
“Yeah.”
“Ready to face it together?”
“Absolutely.”
The flare fizzled out and they switched on their night vision, walking slowly down the passage and remaining vigilant for traps of any sort that might be set. There were few cobwebs, and what there were looked small and recent, indicating that they were only three of the recent visitors to the place. The hallway stretched for some ways away from the mansion before it turned and sloped downward, traveling further into the depths of the earth. 
“Mario, respond.”
Michael had realized that they were in a radio dead-zone with all of the dirt and stone around them. If anything happened, they would be out of communication. The lack of response from Mario backed up the thought and Michael had to make a decision.
“Maria. I want you to go back to the basement and stay there to relay our messages.”
“Go back? Alone?”
“Yeah. We’ve already been that way, so it’s safe, right?”
She looked back at the corner that they had turned and then back at him, her visor’s monocle hiding the scared look that he was sure was in her eyes.
“Err... Okay. I’ll go.” 
Her voice lacked conviction so Jamie came to the rescue, patting her on the shoulder. 
“Go on. Everything will be fine, I promise.”
“I know. I’m just still a little off my game with courage, but I’ll get there.”
They watched her go, waiting until she turned the corner before they continued on through the eerie, green-imaged world. It narrowed to be only four feet in width and gave it the claustrophobic feeling that had been lacking to that point, but they pressed on. It widened again a few minutes later, but the smell and feel became even more foul, if that were possible. 
Michael had a feeling of the tunnel changing time-periods, going further into history and perhaps with even more foreboding attached. There was a change in the tunnel ahead, an opening, and he approached carefully, unsure of what awaited them. 
It was a skull. 
“Well, that’s the only thing that has been missing so far.”
“What?” Jamie looked around his shoulder and caught sight of the object he had picked up. “Oh.”
“ ‘Alas, poor Yorick... I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy.’” -A bit of humor to burn off the accumulated stress.
“That’s not funny.”
Michael set it into the catacomb-style vault he had taken it from and continued on, seeing a door a bit further down.
“Catacombs... here?” Jamie was looking at the bones in the vaults, unsure as to whether to be aghast or indifferent. 
“Who knows? Italy has been a hub of existence for millennia.” He stopped at the door, a heavy, oak job who’s metal shined in his NVG’s. “What I find interesting is that there is recent activity. This door is fairly new.”
There was the slightest rattle of a chain from the other side of the door, a sound Jamie easily picked up on and which sent a shiver through her. “There’s something alive inside...” Her voice had dropped to a whisper and he felt her hand take his, grabbing onto it for security as her mind had lost all comfort with the situation.
“Lets get this door open.”
Jamie marveled at his courage and let him pull from her grip to start picking the newer padlock that secured the door. His skill easily beat her own and the lock was open in only a few seconds, and he swung the door inward, pistol at the ready.
“Ready?”
“Yes.” Her rifle was up, ready to fire on a threat if one dared to show itself. She followed Michael in but was quickly overwhelmed by the tone of the room. 
It was an ancient torture room, modernized recently but still having the requisites for fear and death. A pillory, a rack, a bed of spikes... and numerous things Michael could not even recognize. There was a clean area set to the side where a camera tripod and pair of chairs were located. His illuminator flashed off of a brass cartridge casing and he picked it up, looking at it carefully and noting the bulls-eye shaped indentation in the spent primer.
“Beretta nine-millimeter...” His eyes looked around the floor and caught a few spots of blood spray at the edges of an area that looked like it had been mopped. 
There was no doubt about it- this was the place his Tanya had been murdered in.
“Michael!”
He spun to see what Jamie had yelled about, his illuminator putting the wall beyond her in a black shadow. She dug in her pocket and pulled out a flare, and he pulled off his goggles just in time to avoid being blinded as she lit it. The orange light played throughout the room and revealed the lone figure that had been hidden in Jamie’s shadow.
Michael stepped forward to get a better look in the flickering light, realizing that it was the body of a woman, chained to the wall and dressed in rags, her long blonde hair splotched with the crusted blood of many beatings.
His breath caught in his throat and his eyes seemed to play tricks on him once again. The hair covered the battered and bruised face, but he knew who it was.
“Tatyana!”
“Michael, she’s-“
He rushed to her, blocking out everything but the joy in his heart that had lightened the darkness within him. His hands fumbled with the manacles but managed to get them off of the thin, delicate wrists. There was hardly any weight to speak of, so starved and hollow she felt, and he laid her down on the floor, his hands shaking as his eyes filled with tears at finding her alive.
“Help me, Jamie!”
Jamie’s firm hand touched his shoulder gently; gentler than he ever thought possible, and she spoke with a sadness that he had not heard since she began to remember her friends.
“I’m sorry, Michael.”
“Sorry? Jamie, it’s Tanya! She’s alive.”
“No...” Jamie put her arm around his shoulders, leaning into him to provide the support she knew would be needed. 
“Michael, this woman is not Tanya. I know you want it to be her, want it more than anything else, but Tanya is dead.” She pulled the sticking hair from the bruised face, showing him the very thing she had been looking for after her own rational thinking had kicked back in. “This is just another in the long line of victims.”
Michael looked again at the woman, his eyes uncovered to the truth, and he had to give the woman he loved away again to the reality he found himself entrenched in. It wasn’t Tanya- just someone who looked sort of like her.
His eyes blinked away tears, his heart finding some bits of courage to cling to for the time being.
“Yeah. Yeah, I can see that now.” 
He glanced over the woman’s body, noting several missing fingers on one hand, crudely cauterized and sewn. Her leg was broken in several places, the flesh bloated and purple, possibly gangrenous. Her ribs were on prominent display through her skin and her eyes lacked any signs of coherence of what was happening around her.
She was a shell of a human, alive but dead inside, and she needed help.
“Maria, respond.”
There was a splash of static in the radio before Maria’s voice came over, barely intelligible through the noise. “Go ahead, I can barely hear you.”
“Run up and tell Mario that we have a survivor down here, and that we’re going to need medical attention immediately. Do you copy?”
“Need medical immediately for a survivor, confirm.”
“Yes. That is correct.”
“On my way now. Maria out.”
Michael picked the woman up in his arms and carried her to the door, pausing to look at the place where at least one person had met her end, and probably others, more than he could count.
“Jamie?”
“Yes?” She was beside him, lending him support.
“Thanks for being here with me.”
She could hear the thoughts within his words. He wasn’t just talking about that time and place, but of her being beside him for the past year, lending him strength and drawing it out of him as well, at times when it mattered the most. Maybe, just maybe, he had enough to move on.

Another hospital.
It seemed like there were so many things that had happened since he was last in a public hospital waiting room. The soft feminine form curled up against him on the couch, napping gently, was perhaps the only difference from that time in Paris, and his hand reached out to brush the strands of hair from her cheek, revealing a soft smile on her lips as she slept in a place of comfort.
“Mmm. Go back to bed, Maria. Breakfast will still be there in an hour.”
Jamie’s mumbling made him smile, perhaps the only smile of the day to come. There was a woman in serious condition who was fighting for survival. Beyond that was the likelihood of her having information that would lead him where he needed to go to prevent more senseless violence.
He wasn’t just fighting for Jamie and her friends or Tanya. He was now fighting for the many people that had been killed or hurt by one man and his lackeys, and the increase in scale proved that the idea vengeance being all-encompassing was possibly the only truth there was. Truly it was consuming everything about him and around him, dragging more and more people into the fray the longer it went on.
“Mm. Ferro’s coming, Michael.” Jamie’s eyes opened slowly as she struggled to some fully awake.
“How long have you been awake?” He ran his hand through her hair, smoothing out the tufts that had gone stray during her nap.
“I wasn’t really asleep. I was resting but I still had an ear tuned to the world.”
“Oh?” He smiled again at her, knowing that she was lying. “Then why were you telling Maria to let you sleep?”
“Because she’s always waking me up to be the first ones to breakfast. I never get to sleep in except when I’m with you.”
He looked up to find Ferro there, just as Jamie had promised, ending the moment of levity with her serious look. He hated her for that.
“What’s up?”
“Information from the mansion.” Ferro waved the folder in her hand and set it down on the coffee table, then poured herself a cup of coffee from the courtesy center beside him.
“Anything turn up?” He glanced through the pages for the bold print, smiling inside as Jamie took an interest and read along side him.
“Plenty. We have the owner in custody. He arrived a few hours after you left and was surprised to find a team of soldiers waiting for him. I’m not sure how much he knows about Amherst, but we’re going to find out. Lorenzo has already declined to give him any legal right, and Petris wants him put away without trial.”
“Why is she taking such an interest?” High-rankers never took an interest in something as mundane as people harboring criminals.
“The man is a string-puller in the FRF political movement. He works behind the scenes to get sympathizers elected to local positions so he can influence them.” Ferro sat down and actually relaxed her body, slouching slightly in the chair as she sipped her coffee. Michael could see how tired she was and realized that she had been on the run for almost two days straight, planning and arranging every aspect of their operation.
“I see. What can I say but ‘whoops’?”
Her eyes actually sparkled when she looked at him again, the fatigue letting out at least a little of the respect she found in his instincts. She had come to realize that he made the right moves without even trying, and without even knowing what he was getting into. Instincts and luck: the true value of someone like Christiansen, were incredibly hard to find, even in their business where you needed some degree of either to even survive. He had them both in amounts that were sickening to behold, but it only applied to him. Everyone else around him was on their own and that was the source of much of his sadness- he watched people he cared for die because of his luck.
“Anyway, Lorenzo said to tell you ‘good work’, and that you can take a few days off before going back to our other mission. He wants it finished quickly.”
“Okay.”
“Mister Christiansen?”
A man in a suit had appeared in the doorway, one Michael could tell was an outsider to Italy. He stepped forward and offered a hand in greeting, which Michael took sitting down.
“Benjamin Kaufman, from Europol.”
“Hello.” Michael felt Jamie pull away and straighten, the entrance of a newcomer being regarded as a possible threat.
“I’m here regarding Daniela Sommers, the woman you recovered.”
“That’s her name?” Michael had been waiting to find out from the doctors, but this time it seemed that the regular authorities were on the ball. Ferro had also perked up, always attentive towards new information.
“Yes. She’s one of our investigators that was assigned to the Amherst snuff-film case.”
“I see. So if I might ask, what was she doing in Italy alone, following up on a case where numerous others had been caught and killed?”
“She was only supposed to be looking for leads-“
Michael cut him off, some anger building at the foolishness of the people he was trusting to bring pressure on Amherst.
“Don’t give me that! You knew exactly who you were dealing with because I sent that information along. Even your own experience should have told you that Amherst watches intently for anyone coming after him.”
He deflated, Michael saw, and it said a lot for how much responsibility the man was taking on himself. The refusal to look his accuser in the yes told Michael that he was the one who had sent her, and that he was regretting the decision on an hourly basis.
“Yes, I should have known better.”
There was silence for a minute as Michael let the guilt simmer. There was information to be gained, his instincts said, and it would be worth the wait.
“If you don’t mind a few questions, maybe we can help each other here.”
“Of course. We’re at a dead end. We know where she last reported in and we know where she ended up, but we don’t know where she was those six weeks. Her last report was from Milan and she said she was going underground for a while to pick up on a lead. She was a skilled undercover detective in Berlin and it was not uncommon for her to disappear for weeks while she established a cover.”
“I see...” Michael now knew that Miss Daniela Sommers was experienced enough to know when she was in danger, but that thought came as little comfort as Tanya had been one of the best, and she had ended up worse off. “How many people knew she was going underground?”
“Oh, I’d have to say a handful. Six maybe. Myself, my chief, our operations person, our communications person... The German-Italian police liaison knew that she was in country and might call for something she needed. Those were the ones officially in the loop.”
“Anyone else that might have known?” Michael sipped his cold coffee, wanting to tell Jamie to get him another but reluctant to break his mind from processing the information.
“Lots of people had some bits of information, though it was scattered and hard to put together. You probably know how that is.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Wait- There was someone else included. I didn’t place any thought into it because it seemed fairly unrelated, but there was someone from the American government there. My impression was that he was DEA, inquiring as to whether there were any links of this case to the drugs coming out of Italy.”
That caught Michael’s interest. The DEA was pretty friendly with most police agencies around the world but they weren’t often involved without a direct link having been established. For them to simply be asking about the case in that way seemed oddly out of place.
A doctor stepped into the room with a semblance of a smile. There was good news, at least.
“It looks like she is going to pull through. She is dangerously under-nourished and the injuries she sustained were complicated, especially with the leg, but if she has a will to live, there is nothing to stop her.”
“That’s excellent, Doctor. May I see her?” Kaufman was desperate to tell the woman he was sorry, whether he understood it or not. Michael understood it now, having been through survivor’s guilt a few times already.
“I’m afraid not. We had to amputate the gangrenous leg and the damaged fingers, so the level of anesthetic we used will take some time to fade. Add to this her having been through a tough time mentally, and I would say that you will probably have to wait until tomorrow at least. We have a psychologist on standby to speak with her shortly after she wakes up, so she will get the best care we can offer, but any answers you may be looking for may take some time to emerge.”
“I see.” Kaufman settled back into the chair, looking out the nearby window in thought. He was likely trying to find some way to hold onto the courage that he had built up.
“I’ll have the nurses keep you informed of her progress today and through the night.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Doctor.” 
Ferro was looking at Michael, her eyes telling him that she wanted to speak with him out of earshot of the Europol guy. He checked and found that Jamie had read it too, tensing to stand when he chose to. 
“Well, all of this waiting around has me feeling sluggish. With good news like that, there’s probably no reason not to take a walk.” He stood and stretched, and smiled at Jamie as she mimicked him almost exactly. “Jamie and I are going to take a walk. Do you two want to join us?”
Ferro got to her feet, swaying slightly for effect. “I’ll go. I can use something to eat as well. Mr. Kaufman?”
“No thank you. I’ll stay here for a while. One of my people is supposed to stop by soon.”
“Okay.”

The trio walked in silence, quickly climbing the stairs to the helipad, passing a pair of doctors who had chosen that spot to have a smoke. They were alone on the roof and Jamie stepped to the edge, basking in the morning sun and letting the wind whip through her hair.
“So, what do you think, Michael?”
“I think they screwed up. At the same time, I’m curious as to why they left the woman in that dungeon, alive and unsupervised. They’re not sloppy in their methods, at least they haven’t been up until now, and everything in me says that they were keeping her alive for something.”
“Leverage? Until now they have executed every detective they have come across, with the exception of Mario, and that was only to send you a message.”
He looked out across the city below them, feeling that the answers were just out of reach.
“So they’re sending a message now? What would it be? That Europol is a collective group of fools who can’t allocate resources in a timely and efficient manner? Who doesn’t know that?”
“Hmm.” 
“Maybe it’s a set-up for a joke.”
Jamie had turned from the edge, brushing her hair from her face with a smile.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, what would be an efficient way to create chaos without exposing yourself? You have to have someone else do the work for you. Lets ignore the snuff-film angle and focus on the other party involved here: the politician. We’ve got him, and if anything ever gets out about his rights being violated like we are, the agency’s credibility is going to take a hit, especially in the northern region.”
“That is why we’re keeping everything quiet as to who it is.”
“So what would be the best way to make it all come out in the open without crossing paths with the agency?”
Michael was following along now, just able to read what she was getting at. “You involve another body, one interested in the information rather than the politics. Europol will conduct an independent investigation and eventually stumble on the information we have, that of the string-puller. If word of his arrest hits the fans, we’re the bad guys, not him. The joke would be on us.”
“This makes no sense! We have tight control over the media, over the information being released, and we’re arranging to get the woman further under our care by moving her to the agency hospital. How do they expect this to get out?” Ferro’s fatigue was allowing her control to slip, something Michael found more interesting each time he witnessed it.
“You need a catalyst to bring two unrelated chemicals into a reaction. In this case, an event that will force the investigation by Europol before we get too far in the cover-up.” 
Ferro put a hand to her head, focusing past the building headache to what she would do in their opponents’ place. They seemed so unrelated but she could feel the answer next to her, calling out. Michael was kind enough to wait the extra moment needed for her to realize it; sparing her the humiliation of being slow at something she otherwise would not.
“They’ll kill her here!”
Michael nodded and Jamie smiled broader, having come up with it on her own.
“But how?”
“The how doesn’t matter because there are so many ways. The question now becomes whether they have anticipated us figuring it out and reacting, or if they think we’re playing into their hands. Regardless, Amherst has shifted tactics again. He’s not actively seeking my elimination, but he’s working to isolate me by outing the agency. I overestimated the effect I had on his ego, I’m afraid, and that means he’s been breaking even with me at best and playing me at worst.”
“But Michael,” Jamie said as she stepped over. “Doesn’t he know that the agency will bring more resources to bear on him? He obviously isn’t that ignorant.”
“Except the majority of our forces are tied up looking for Giacomo. Look at what kind of work it took to bring one measly raid on a poorly defended location. Add to that the fact that every time we respond to his actions we are risking more and more exposure among the public. I can see that you are worn out, Ferro, and since you shoulder most of that work, that means our methods of cover are less effective. He’s got us in a position of reaction and it’s only going to take time to wear us down.”
The women glanced at each other, both hating the idea of his being right and that they were being led around by the neck. Neither could see an alternative, however, short of all of them being manically paranoid to the same degree.
“So...”
There were several ways to protect the woman, all of which could be instituted in less than six hours. He had to pick one, wait, and hope it worked.
“Ferro, go to a hotel and get some sleep. Jamie and I can handle it from here.”
“I can’t do that.” 
“I’m ordering you to, Ferro. You’re no help to me in your condition, and it’s going to take a clear mind to accomplish what I have in mind.” He chose to ignore the look she gave and continued on. “Jamie, escort her to a hotel and return as quickly as possible, but you need to pick up a few items on the way back.” 
Jamie accepted the slip of paper he hastily jotted the information on and memorized it, a questioning look forming on her face.
“Is this going where I think it is?”
“Maybe. Get moving, we don’t have much time.”

Chapter 36: 

Christiansen had laid his trap, and now everything depended on the enemy viewing his strength as his weakness. It had taken the better part of the night, enough time for Ferro to get enough sleep and return, looking to be back to her stoic self again. Her mind was also working well, as she handed Michael a folder that she had requested immediately upon waking.
“What’s this?” The coffee was strong from boiling down all day, pulling any remaining fatigue from his body for the time being.
“Some information I thought might be useful.” She looked into the hall at the armed guards at Miss Sommers’ door, recognizing them as being from Section Two’s guard element. Jamie was also conspicuously absent, which seemed very odd. “Where’s Jamie?”
“Getting into her place. It’s going down tonight, Ferro. I can feel it. That’s why I arranged for the armed guards from base. They’re only allowing people on a select list inside, and I control that list. The hospital wasn’t too happy about it, but we have to protect this woman until she’s stable enough to be transported.”
“I see.” 
Michael settled into a chair with the folder, looking it over carefully for the important bits. It all added up in his mind, confirming what he had already suspected, but it seemed too obvious to be believable.
“We’re sure on this?”
“I had Priscilla verify it with the home office and the US government. There were no DEA agents authorized to discuss the snuff film case with Europol at that time. The man Kaufman noticed was someone else with enough pull backing them to get past the security.”
“Okay. I think I have the picture now.”
As if on-cue, Kaufman entered the waiting room with a concerned look on his face.
“Ah, Kaufman, we were just discussing some information we picked up based on what you told us. Come in and sit down.”
“Oh, thank you. I was just coming to see you. The guards outside Daniela’s room said that I could only go in if you grant me authority.”
“Yes, I’m sorry about that. My boss has told me to treat her like the prize witness she is, and so I’m only allowing a few people entrance- the senior guard, her primary doctor, two nurses, and myself. The cleaning staff is forbidden, and I’m even denying Ferro her authorization. I’m keeping a tight leash on this situation because I know how Amherst and his people work, and they have a nasty reputation for getting into places you would think they could not.”
Kaufman nodded, recognizing the serious nature of the precautions. “Still, I was hoping to talk to her when she wakes up. My superiors have been demanding answers and I have been stuck with nothing but ‘No change’.”
“I know how that is. They’re never happy with that answer, even when they know that there is no other answer possible.” Michael chuckled slightly, having been there before numerous times with Langley. He gauged the man before him and decided to let things slide a little in the interest of cooperation.
 “Listen, I can’t let you in, but I can let you see her for a moment from the door when I go to check on her with the doctor this evening. That way you can call in and tell them that you saw her with your own eyes, and that things are pretty much the same. Will that work for you?”
“Yes. That would be appreciated, Mister Christiansen. What time would be good?”
“The doctor will be making rounds a little after eight, I think. If he shows up earlier, I’ll give you a call. Now, to that information... It seems that the DEA man you saw in the office was someone else posing as one, and is likely the person who has been selling out the agents that are put on the case.”
This information shocked Kaufman a bit, Michael noticed. Maybe it was how fast they had obtained it.
“You are certain of that?”
“It’s not final, but it is certainly looking that way. We’re still waiting on the Americans to get us the information we need, and you know how that can be at times. With any luck we’ll have the packet on Monday, and then we can settle down into chasing down those bastards.”
“I look forward to that. I’m tired of attending the funerals of dead colleagues and never getting any closer to the end.”
Michael could not help but smile softly, knowing the feeling. “Same here.”
“I will report this to my superiors and recommend that they begin an investigation into this man. Perhaps we will catch him the next time he shows his face. Thank you, Mister Christiansen, for your efforts.”
He shook Michael’s hand gratefully and exited, heading towards the elevators just down the hall. When Michael turned back around from watching him, he found Ferro frowning at him again. 
“What?”
“Making exceptions?”
“It’s all in the interests of fair play, Ferro.”
She turned away and flipped open a business magazine, watching in dismay as a small pile of subscription cards poured out onto her lap. “I wouldn’t know anything about fair play.”

Night came, the hospital lights dimmed, and the normally busy sound faded to the occasional nurse passing by the door on the way some place. Kaufman showed up a little early and the doctor was right on time, and they followed Michael to the patient’s room. The guards checked the doctor’s Id against their list and waved him in after a search for hidden syringes. 
The doctor seemed to understand the precautions, having been informed of the kinds of information they hoped the woman had and how many lives it could save, and he entered under the ever-watchful eyes of Michael, quickly starting a few basic tests.
“Any improvement, Doctor?” Kaufman leaned against the door, mindful of the guard that was staring at him.
“Yes. She’s stable enough to move tomorrow morning. The infection has been stopped, so we should not need to remove any more tissue. From here on, it’s entirely up to her own will.”
A nurse carrying a fresh drip bag stopped at the guards, flashing her identification at them and waiting while they gently patted her down.
“Ah, Alessa.” The doctor waved the attractive nurse in, his eyes speaking of perhaps more vigor than his sixty years suggested.
“My apologies for being late. The pharmacy had trouble finding the right one.”
“No harm done. Please start the drip while I finish here.”
“Yes, doctor.” 
The woman circled around Michael to get to the IV machine on the other side of the bed, smiling warmly at him as she passed. He caught a glimpse of the drip bag’s label as she went by, noting that the white stick-on label was peeling slightly, the paper soft as if it had become wet. 
He looked closer at it as she readied to hang it from the stand, realizing that it had the patient and room number handwritten on it for reference. It seemed like a perfectly sensible thing to do as a memory aid, but it bothered him.
The bag was lifted onto the hook, the line connected, and the first drops fell into the main line. A sweat broke out on Michael’s forehead as his instincts told him to act immediately against a possible threat. His hand shot out and grabbed the line a foot down, clamping it off tightly with a white-knuckled grip.
“Doctor! Guard!”
The guard shoved his way past Kaufman, his gun drawn and at low ready. The doctor’s head shot up at the urgency of the tone, looking at the IV line and realizing that something must be wrong with it.
“Change this line out immediately!”
“What? What is this?” The nurse backed away as the guard moved in, pushing her away from the patient.
“Change out this bag and line, doctor, and have the bag she just added tested.”
“You think there is something wrong with it?” He moved over to the machine and secured its drip, making sure that no other fluid would go into the patient.
“Call it paranoid, call it crazy, but also call it cautious. After you secure it, I want you to take a guard and personally go down to the pharmacy to get a new bag. Have the person there take you to the supply- do not accept anything they hand you.”
“Michael, I think you’re taking this a bit far.” Ferro had stepped to the door at the commotion.
“I’m responsible for this patient’s safety, and I have the authority to request this. Now please, just do it.”
Another nurse arrive with a fresh line, stopping at the guard until Michael nodded to let her in.
“Nurse, get this set up while I get the bag.”
“Ferro, go with him in case there’s a problem.”
“Right!”
Michael could feel the familiar sensation of having just averted a disaster, his body coming down from the rush. He turned to look at Kaufman, a man who had shown no surprise at all at Michael’s actions, and simply shrugged. It was just as well that they were moving her the next day, as protecting her there was nearly impossible.

“You were right, Michael.” Ferro and Kaufman entered the room they were using as a headquarters, and she tossed yet another folder under Michael’s nose. “Pancuronium bromide- sixty milligrams. A lethal dose for humans, wastefully overkill for someone already in a coma. They want this woman dead.”
“No kidding. Well, I can’t say that I’m surprised. I knew they would try something to get to her, and I was right.  What did the nurse know?” A glance at his watch showed that it was almost six in the morning. It was hard to tell what time it was after having been up all night.
“She claims innocence, but I already have her being interrogated by some people I can trust. The pharmacy technician is also being questioned, and we have calls out to the manufacturer in case this was an issue there.”
“I seriously doubt they work with such chemicals so close to the more common ones, and certainly not in that high of percentages. Good work covering all of the bases, though.” He hoisted his coffee cup in salute to her diligence.
“The lab also found a puncture in the bag consistent with a fourteen-gauge needle. It was resealed with glue that hardens and covered over by the label, but the label did not stick to the repaired spot. The lack of flexibility in the glue allowed the bag to seep into the label and weaken the adhesive. Whoever did the job did it just before the bag was taken to the floor.”
“The nurse?”
“It’s likely, but it will take some time to track down her steps to be certain.”
Ferro sat down finally, having finished her report. Kaufman took the other chair and waited for Michael to adjust to Ferro’s news before giving his own.
“I’ve contacted my office and my chief sends his gratitude. He also wanted me to pass along that he was willing to cooperate with your agency in full. He is sending the security video from the office that has who we think is the man posing as the DEA agent. The courier should be in Rome sometime tomorrow.”
Michael nodded and pulled a sheet from his stack of papers. “That should be of some help.” He handed the paper to Kaufman. “The helicopter will be landing at eight-thirty. We will all escort it to the roof, and then the guards, the doctor and myself will ride along. Other transport has already been arranged for the two of you, plus my assistant. She’s gone ahead to the airport to maintain security there, and will meet you here afterwards.”
The Europol man handed the paper back after memorizing the timeline spelled out on it. “You certainly know how to guard someone.”
“I spent a lot of time in Eastern Europe on a protective detail.”
Michael caught a twitch in Kaufman’s eye at the lie, showing that he knew more about Michael than he was letting on. This was getting interesting...
“In any case, go on out and close the door so I can get an hour’s sleep before the flight.”
“Yes, sir.” Ferro stood and followed Kaufman out, closing the door behind her. He watched her for a few seconds before speaking, hoping for a truthful answer.
“Does he always lie like that?”
“Lie?”
“He was never on a protective detail. He was in the American State Department’s translation corps.”
She stared at him, unsure as to whether he was making a joke. She finally realized that he was not and decided to teach him something about intelligence work before she walked away.
“Do you always believe everything you read?”

The roof door opened to a bright blue sky and gentle breeze, the sun shining brightly from the east and making everyone wince at the glare. A gust of wind marked the descent of the helo as it maneuvered into place, touching down gently and settling its weight into the struts- its rotor being held high to avoid injuring anyone on the ground. 
The guards moved first, the first running out in a crouch to open the door of the aircraft while the second moved to the side and kept a constant watch on the doorway that the stretcher was wheeled out of. Michael’s charge was strapped down tight to the stretcher and covered with a sheet from head to toe to protect against dirt or debris that was kicked up by the rotor. The others followed at set spacing, providing several waves of defense against an attacker.
“What’s that?” Kaufman pointed at the second helicopter that was circling the hospital, providing high cover and an extra set of eyes.
“That’s your ride.” He was yelling above the whine of the turbines on the helo, the noise deafening.
“Okay!”
The stretcher was at the door of the helo and the med-tech released the catch for the legs to fold up. There was a sharp sound and everyone around the gurney was suddenly splattered with blood, the gurney slipping from the grip of the stunned carriers and dropping to the pad. 
“SNIPER! GET DOWN!!” Michael dove for the deck, looking at the blood-soaked sheet on the gurney and gauging that it was likely a chest hit from the side. His witness was probably dead already.
The others ducked down while the guards attempted to locate the source, risking life and limb to find the bastard. Michael knew where it came from: the roof of the building eight-hundred yards to the east, hidden in the glare of the sun. It was the only place for a sniper to hide effectively.
“Echo-Two! Sniper on the rooftop just short of a klick to the east!”
“Roger that, moving in now.” 
The other helo dipped its nose and winged over to the building, the side door opening to let the barrel of a rifle stick out.
“Commence firing.”
The nose popped up and the helo slowed to almost a hover, providing a stable platform for the shot that rang out, audible even over the noise of the copters. Four more shots followed in quick succession, the scene eerily like the old Vietnam videos Michael used to watch when he was younger. 
The shots stopped and the helo started to move again, this time descending close to the other rooftop. A lone figure slid down a line and poked around the roof for several minutes before dragging a limp form to the line and hooking on, letting the helo pull them from the rooftop. 
“Echo-Two has suspect in custody.”
“Good work, two. We’ll lift off and clear the roof for you.”
“Affirmative.”
Michael motioned to the pilot who spoke into his intercom. The co-pilot made sure that the stretcher was inside and those aboard were the ones going, then motioned everyone else back from the aircraft. They lifted off and began to circle the building as the other helo carefully set its dangling cargo to the pad, and then settled down once they were clear.

Ferro shielded her eyes as the second helo approached with the pair on a rope. The girl touched down and released them both from the line, then dragged the moaning sniper to the side to clear the pad. She looked over at Kaufman as he stood and looked at the young girl, her short blonde hair waving in the downwash of the rotor. It was just about time.
A man in a suit emerged from the helicopter, the gun in his hand aimed at Kaufman’s heart, but he hardly had time for it to register before soft hands roughly grabbed his arms and a foot swept his feet from under him, planting his nose into the black surface of the pad.
“Benjamin Kaufman... You’re under arrest for accessory to murder with the sniper and for attempted murder involving that incident last night. You essentially have no rights as of this point. We’ll have plenty of questions, and if you’re smart, you’ll answer without making us work for it.” Ferro cuffed him and stood, holstering her gun and feeling pretty good about how the morning was shaping up.

Michael settled back into his seat and stared at the bloody stretcher, the blood dripping from the white sheet onto the floor at his feet. It was a pitiful and gruesome sight, but he could no longer contain the laughter he had been holding in since the door had closed.
“I think you went a little overboard, don’t you?” He kicked the gurney a couple of times, an act that made the guards look at Michael as if he were mad. “C’mon, get up!”
“I can’t. I’m strapped down for my own safety, remember?”
He pulled the sheet off of the smiling face of Jamie and released the straps holding her down, and then picked the Kevlar vest and ceramic plates that had provided the protection from around her. She handed him the still-leaking bag of blood that had exploded on being hit by the rifle round and sat up in the stretcher, stretching to see out the windows.
“Did Ferro get him?”
“Yeah...” They looked down at the helipad where the shooter and Benjamin Kaufman were stretched out on the pad under the guns of the remaining guards, Ferro, and Jean and Rico. “Rico got the shooter.”
“I wish that were me taking that shot. I would have got him in one.”
“I know. Maybe next time, Jamie.” 
The girl slipped from the gurney and settled into a seat, fastening in for the long ride back to Rome. She smiled for the doctor who had played along with the game, being a good sport as part of something he was only vaguely aware of.
“Thank you for your help, doctor. We really could not have done this without you.”
“I’m happy to be a part as long as innocent lives are going to be saved.”
The helo nosed down and headed southwest for Rome, the ride smoothing out as they started to cruise. Jamie leaned her head on Michael’s shoulder and let out a long yawn, her efforts of the past day having worn her out.
“Tired?”
“Yeah. It’s hard work playing a comatose body. It takes a lot of patience to just lie there for almost a day without moving. And what was with the excitement last night?” She playfully slapped his arm before leaning against it again, snuggling in for her nap.
“Just keeping up appearances.” 
“Making the enemy see what you want them to see...” Jamie had already started to drift off, her words barely more than a mumble to be lost in the engine noise. “Lure them in and kill them...”

Michael decided to wait for the second helo to land, not blaming Jamie for refusing to wait in the cold air with only a bloodied hospital gown on. The engine spooled down and the door opened to let Jean and Ferro roughly shoved Kaufman from the cabin.
“Jean! Thanks you for helping out in such a hurry.”
“Rico needed the practice anyway. What about the patient?”
“She never had a chance. The rifle round went through her chest from the side and blasted out the front.” The illusion could only be maintained while the smoke remained to block the vision.
“I see.” 
The guards split the prisoners up, sending the sniper to the hospital and Kaufman to towards the stockade, leaving Michael and the others standing in silence in the cold air. When they were out of earshot, Michael smiled again.
“Jamie’s fine. She just went to shower the blood off and change clothes. Bianchi called me earlier to say that Miss Sommers has come out of her coma and is talking, though she’s still in shock, obviously. The psychologists are going to speak with her in a few hours.”
“I have to say, Christiansen, that you laid an excellent snare for the Europol leak. He kept saying that he could not figure out how we knew.” Jean’s praise had an odd feel to it, probably because it was so rare. Michael had the feeling that the man was actually impressed for once.
“Thanks. A portion of the credit goes to Jamie and Ferro. Without their acting, I could not have made it look convincing.”
Ferro led the way to the car and opened the door, waiting for her superiors to climb in. “Well, we now have three potential sources of information to work with.”
“Lets keep Kaufman acting like a common criminal for now. He’s bound to speak to a lawyer, and it’s then that he will pass on the idea that Sommers is dead and no longer a source. After we get an idea of what she knows, I’m going to take Jamie and disappear for a few days, ostensibly for a vacation. I have to give our other problem child a chance to contact me. I’ve already got Belisario and Bergonzi going over some information that I want to pass along after they scrub and alter it. Call it a taste test, if you want.”
Jean nodded is approval, knowing that Lorenzo would also agree with the idea. “Do you anticipate any problems?”
“No.” Michael shook his head but continued to think of the many ways that things could go wrong. “This is just a quick meeting. It’ll probably a simple hand-off of some type rather than face-to-face. Besides, Jamie is on her game and will be ready for anything that might come along.”
“Overconfidence on your part?” The doors shut and the driver steered towards the headquarters building.
“No. Experience.” He looked out at the distant hills and fields, already greening over for the spring. “I’ve been a little shaky the past few months but I’m back in control of things now. My head is clear and I can see my opponents’ moves in advance now, and I’m not going to let go of that because it will give them a chance.”
“What is Amherst going to do next?”
“He’ll play a face-card. He has no other choice if he’s to gain the initiative again.”
Ferro gave a confused look. “A face-card?”
“Yeah. He’s going to call in a favor from someone he’s been saving for a rainy day.”
“Do you know who it is?”
“No. I do know who they work for, which cuts the possibilities down quite a bit.” Michael was smiling to himself.
“Care to enlighten us?”
“Not really. It wouldn’t help the matter.”
They fell into silence as the car pulled up to the dormitory, taking their separate ways to prepare for the oncoming challenges after climbing out of the car. Jamie was waiting for him by his room, dressed comfortably for an evening off.
“Well?”
“Things are going to be heating up soon.” He motioned her to enter before him and closed the door, pulling his blood-splattered jacket off and hanging it up. “I am entrusting my safety to your hands.”
It was the way that he said it that made her start to worry. “What does that mean?”
“It means that you are going to have to follow my orders without question, and without any room for deviation. The plan for the CIA guy is going to have to go off without a hitch, and that means no ad-libbing from you, no matter how bad it looks.”
“I never ad-lib!” The defensive response was cute with the soft laughter she gave. “I just- have to react differently than you expect.”
“Come here!” He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him in a tight hug, sharing her laughter. The feel of her close to him made him relax, feeling a comfort that he had last felt in Tanya’s arms, and that meant that Jamie was the only person his heart could trust in. It was just that simple. 
Jamie felt a distinct difference in Michael now. His heart was no longer shielded from her and it made his emotions seem more vibrant and pure. The mystery and confusion she felt from trying to read his way of thinking was gone, and she felt that he was an entirely readable person. 
In truth, she had sensed it the day before when he had started to work out his plan to get the woman back to the agency safely. His mind was clear and his actions driven towards a goal, that of complete and utter misdirection of their enemies, and it was his confidence in his being a step ahead that had instilled a similar determination in her.
“Michael... You’re not the same as you have been.” She held tight to him, whispering in his ear with an awe that the moment had created.
“I know. I feel free for the first time in a very long time.”
“Talk to me. Tell me about what you feel.” Her leg touched the bed and she guided them to it, sitting on the edge and never breaking the hold they had on one another.
“It’s all coming together now. Everything... You, Tanya, Amherst, the SWA... I can see every piece together in my head and I know how to move them around. It’s like a big game of chess, and I have a strategy now because I can see how the pieces will play out. I’m no longer making it up as I go because I don’t have to.”
Jamie gasped as she felt tears soaking through her shirt. Michael was crying, crying tears of joy, at the freedom he claimed to have found. If it weren’t for her own heart feeling the incredible belief that he held in the thought, she might not have believed it.
“Jamie...” She could feel his hand clench into a fist on her back with the intensity of his heart’s outpouring. “Jamie, I know how to win. I’ve been playing to a draw until now. Every step that I have taken- that we have taken- has been with the idea of our sacrifice to end the grease spot on the world that is Ian Amherst. I have known that we would die together to finish him, and thereby save so many innocents.
“But now, now I’ve figured it all out. We can win against him and live. I no longer have to feel like I’m pushing you towards the end of your second life in order to avenge the first. We can now be free to feel that there is a future for both of us, and that knowledge- that I’m no longer leading you to your death- is what has set me free.”
There was power in his words. She had felt the same as he, that their lives were going to be in trade for the lives of so many others, and she had accepted it as part of their vengeance. She now had every reason to live, and that was important to them both.
“Michael,” she pulled back and wiped the tears from his cheeks with her thumbs and looking into his eyes, the better to believe in him more. “Are you sure that we can hope for such an end?”
“Yes. I feel it in my soul.”
His eyes were devastating to her heart. The man she had always envisioned him to be, the one that was pure of conviction and intent, was now before her, and her heart demanded action. She had hated him, had loved him, respected him, and loathed him. Through all of the things they had been through, the only thing she knew for certain was that she could never, ever, bear to lose him, and there was only one way to show it.
Jamie closed her eyes and sought his lips, finding them in a passionate kiss that surprised him but did not frighten him away. His initial hesitation gave in to a like response that he would have felt was entirely inappropriate just months before. They were together and that was all that mattered, because it was only together that they could survive.