Idk what it is about writing all human fics but I love em. After I finish LC's Room I'll start on my other wolf Twilight like fic that I'm in the works of writing now.

As for this story it'll start of a bit slow but it'll get there... Probably by next Chapter. I won't give anything away just give it a chance you might actually like it! ;)

Enjoy!

Disclaimer:SM owns the Twilight characters

Ch1:Getting Away & Top Gun

Dr. Leah Clearwater yanked back the curtain in the workspace where she had dressed the stiched forefinger of an old man. She instantly heard screams for help in English and Spanish coming from the E.R. waiting room. Her heart rate sped up when she saw two young men in blood-soaked clothing struggling under the weight of a limp body.

"Bring him over here!" she shouted to be heard above the yelling and crying. She motioned to an empty cubicle. "Dr. Uley, help me out here," she said to the pediatrician who had rushed over when he had heard the commotion. Putting on a pair of latex gloves, she grabbed her stethoscope from the pocket of her lab coat, placing it against the chest of a boy whose breathing was becoming shallower with each passing second. "GSW to the chest, and he's bleeding out fast. Call the O.R…"

Whatever else she was going to say was drowned out by the sound of gunfire. There was one shot, then another—the rapid fire exploding like cannons shot through the emergency room of Miami's busiest municipal hospital. At that moment Leah realized the E.R. was under siege. The curtain of the makeshift room was ripped open and she stared into the barrel of a large caliber handgun. The young boy, gripping the semiautomatic with two hands to steady it, winked at her and her gaze went to the distinctive tattoo on the back of his left hand.

"Step off, doc," he ordered through the white bandana covering the lower portion of his face.

It was as if everything was happening in slow motion. The first bullet hit the chest of her patient, the impact causing his body to jerk several inches off the gurney. The second knocked Dr. Samuel Uley backward. He collapsed on the floor like a rag doll before Leah felt the impact of another bullet slamming into her midsection. The fire in her side spread throughout her body. She placed her right hand against her ribs as blood—warm and acrid smelling— spilled through her splayed fingers. The shooting and screaming continued as she lay sprawled on the tiled floor, shutting out the sights and sounds of carnage tearing through the E.R. In less than a minute, four people had been injured and six lay mortally wounded.

Leah sat up, her heart racing uncontrollably. Placing a hand over her mouth, she cut off the screams caught in the back of her throat. Rocking back and forth, she cried without making a sound. The nightmare had returned. It had been almost a year and yet she could not stop reliving the horror of the night that so many innocent people had lost their lives.

Physically she had recovered from being shot at close range, the bullet having passed through her body and ending up in the wall behind her. but, Leah knew she would never forget the sound of her own voice, when hours later, had has asked the recovery nurse what had happened and knew by the woman's expression that many people had died. She didn't learn the names of the victims until she had been taken to a private room and her family members had begun arriving en masse. It was her brother Brady who had finally told her that Dr. Samuel Uley and Dr. Riley Biers had died that night. Rival gangs had turned Miami Hospital's E.R. into a killing field. Her patient and three other gang members had also died.

Pulling her knees to her chest, Leah rested her forehead on her knees and waited for her heartbeat to return to normal. She had taken a medical leave of absence in addition to grief counseling to cope with the death of the man she had planned to marry—Samuel Uley—but she was still unable to exorcise the horror caused by Miami's gang fighting over a very lucrative drug operation.

Images of the days and nights she had shared with Sam flooded her mind. When she met him for the first time she realized immediately that he was different from any of the men in her past. They had shared the same passion for medicine, the same zeal for helping those without resources in underserved communities. Sam could have joined the family practice begun by his grandfather, treating the children of an affluent Connecticut suburb, but instead he had chosen to work in a city hospital.

What had made the loss so devastating for Leah was that she and Sam had planned to open a free clinic in a low income Miami neighborhood. They had purchased an abandoned building and had planned to meet with a contractor to renovate the space to include waiting and examining rooms and a place where children could play while waiting to be seen. Sam's specialty was pediatrics and hers was internal medicine. Their future plans also included adding a pediatric dentist and an ob-gyn.

She slowly looked up when she heard the telephone ring shattering the silence in the large bedroom. Leah knew she had to get away from Miami, even if only for a month or two. Waking up to tropical temperatures, palm trees, ocean views, the sounds of Spanish interspersed with English and luxury yachts moored along the Intracoastal was a constant reminder of the days and night she had lain in Sam's arms while they had planned their future.

She reached for the cordless phone without bothering to look at the display. "Hello."

"Como estas baby sis?"

A hint of a smile parted her lips when she heard her oldest brother Brady's greeting. There was no doubt he was in a good mood. Employees of Clearwater International, Ltd. were thrilled now that its CEO, Brady Clearwater, had married and become a father. He now greeted them with smiles and effusive handshakes. Before he had met his wife Vivienne Neal, most people, including family members, found Brady cold and intimidating.

"Good morning, Brady."

"Have you looked at the clock, Leah?"

Sitting upright Leah took a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table. She groaned inwardly. It was after three in the afternoon. "I supposed I should've said good afternoon."

"Are you still in bed?" her brothers voice had changed, layered with concern.

It put Leah on her defensive. "I didn't know I needed your permission as to when I should and should not go to bed." Her retort was followed by a long silence, and Leah knew Brady was struggling to control his temper.

"You don't need my permission to do anything, Leah. It's just that I'm concerned about you spending so much time by yourself."

Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, Brady." She said before exhaling an audible breath. "I feel better when I'm alone because I don't have to pretend all is well when it isn't. Most times I'm okay, but it's when I dream about what happened that I find myself getting depressed."

"Are you depressed now?

She smiled, "I'm fighting it."

"May I make a suggestion without you biting my head off?"

"Yes and even if I disagree with you I promise not to bite your head off."

"I spoke to Seth earlier this morning and he wants you to stay at the horse farm until you're called to testify."

Leah rolled her eyes upward. "Seth knows how I feel about horses. I don't like them and they don't like me."

"It's not about horses Leah. It's about a change of scenery."

She smiled again. "You must be clairvoyant, big brother, because I was just thinking about leaving Miami for a few months to get my head together."

"Where are you going?"

"North Carolina."

"No, Leah. If you go there you'll be more isolated than in the mausoleum of a house you wander around in."

"Will it make you feel better if I take a lover for the summer to keep me company?"

"That's not funny, Leah."

"Make up your mind, Brady," she countered. "I know you've been talking to everyone because you believe I'm either crazy or going crazy. I'm neither. What I am is mourning the loss of the man I loved, the man who was to become my husband and the father of my children. He was murdered right in front of my eyes, and my only consolation was that I didn't watch him die. I am going away, and hopefully when I come back I'll be able to start over."

There was another brief silence. "Will I see you before you leave?

"Of course," Leah said.

She would stay in Florida long enough to see her brother, sister in law and nephew, and to spend time with her parents and grandparents before driving up to North Carolina. Perhaps on her return trip she would stop at her younger brother's horse farm in western Virginia.

Two minutes later, she ended the call, swung her legs over the side of the bed and walked to the en suite bathroom. She had committed to leaving Miami, and hopefully upon return she would be able to get her life back on track.

FBI Academy—Quantico Virginia

Jacob Black reached up in an attempt to loosen the tie under his shirt collar. He stopped and then remembered why he had worn it. Earlier that morning, he had gotten a call from his supervisor that he was to meet him at 0900 hours. Charlie Swan ended the terse message with a direct order that he wear a suit and tie.

As a special agent working undercover, there were few occasions when he had to wear what he'd referred to as an authorized noose. He much preferred jeans, boots, tees and a pullover sweater. The temperature had to drop several degrees before he deigned to wear a coat or jacked.

"Agent Black, you may go in now."

Jacob, rising to his feet, stared at the dour-faced woman guarding her boss's door like a Rottweiler about to pounce on an unsuspecting intruder. "Thank you, Ms. Young." He gave her his best toothpaste-ad grin. He knew he had shocked her because she stared silently at him, her mouth agape.

Ms. Emily Young didn't like him, and the feeling was mutual. The first time he had been summoned to meet directly with Charlie, she had neglected to inform her boss that the newly appointed undercover special agent had arrived on time when she directed Jacob into her supervisor's office twenty minutes later.

He had endured the tongue lashing about the importance of punctuality, and then calmly asked Charlie why he wanted to see him. The question had quickly diffused the career agent's harangue, and within seconds the two men regarded each other with respect. He smiled at Ms. Young as he stepped into the sun-filled office. Much to his surprise, she returned his smile.

"Good luck, Jacob."

It was the first time Emily had addressed him by his first name. His smile was still in place when he recognized the men sitting at a conference table in a corner of the large office. "Good morning, gentlemen," Jacob said, greeting and shaking hands with associate directors of the FBI, DEA, ATF and the U.S. Marshals Service. A shudder of excitement rushed through his body when he realized he was to become a participant in a joint Department of Justice operation.

Charlie gestured to an empty chair. "Please sit there Agent Black." Jacob sat. It was the only place at the table with a file folder. "Before you examine the contents of the folder in front of you, I want you to know that your name was at the top of the list for this operation."

Thick, black, silky eyebrows lifted a fraction when Jacob met the resolute stares of the men looking back at him. "Am I correct to assume that I was the only name on the list?" The ATF and DEA officials exchanged barely perceptible smiles.

"Yes," the assistant Bureau director acknowledged. "Embry Call, aka Em Collins and sometimes known as Bry Calkins has just earned the number-one spot on the Bureau's Most Wanted List."

A lump formed in Jacob's throat, and he closed his eyes for several seconds. His expression was unreadable when he finally opened them. "What happened?"

Charlie laced his fingers together atop the table. "We got word from the inside that his cover was compromised following the kidnapping of the owner of a gun shop near Waynesville, North Carolina."

"What happened?" Jacob repeated, glaring at his supervisor.

"The plan was to leave no witnesses, but Embry wounded the store owner, who was able to give the police a description of the kidnappers. Embry managed to slip away from the group, and is hiding out in the mountains near the Tennessee border. Right now he doesn't trust anyone and that includes his government. Jacob, we need you to bring him in."

"What if he doesn't want to come in?'

"It will be up to you to convince him to come in." said the nattily dressed ATF supervisor.

"Who's his contact on the inside?" Jacob said anxiously, asking yet another question.

The head of the DEA field offices cleared his throat. "She's the girlfriend of one of the men responsible for getting guns across the border to Mexican drug traffickers. She said there's a contract out on Embry to bring him in dead or alive."

"How do you gentlemen want him? Dead or alive?"

The ATF director angled his head. "We'd like to bring him alive, but without compromising the most important DoJ joint task force operation we've put together in years. We've got direct orders from the Oval Office to stop the flow of drugs and killings along the U.S. Mexican border."

Jacob clenched his teeth and a muscle twitched noticeably in his lean jaw. "What you're telling me is that you're willing to offer up Embry Call as a sacrificial lamb in order to save your mission."

A bright red flush crept up Charlie Swan's face to the hairline of the mane of shockingly mixed brown and gray hair, which had begun turning gray in his early twenties.

"Special Agent Black, I shouldn't have to remind you of the oath each and every one of us took when we joined the Justice Department. If need be, I'd sacrifice my first born if it meant stopping the flow of drugs and putting those responsible for murder and trafficking behind bars for the rest of their natural lives."

Jacob nodded. "I suppose that answers my question. When do I start and where am I going?" His voice was even shaded in neutral tones that belied the inner torment of assuming the responsibility of rescuing or killing his own brother—Embry Call.

Charlie unlaced his fingers as he stared at his agent. "We know this is not going to be easy for you. But the fact is you're the best man for this mission. You'll only have twenty-four hours to familiarize yourself with the operation before you head out to North Carolina."

Resting a hand on the file folder stamped OPERATION: Top Gun, Jacob gave each man a long, penetrating look. "This is going to be my last field assignment."

"What is you want?" asked ATF supervisor.

Silence filled the room as Jacob and the fastidious bureaucrat engaged in a stare down. "I want your job." He said with a sardonic smile. Pushing back his chair, he stood, gathered the folder and inclined his head. "It's been a pleasure." Turning on his heels, he walked across the room, feeling the heat from the glares at his back as the four men exchanged glances.

The ATF director recovered quickly. "Why that ballsy bastard." He whispered under his breath. "There's no way in hell he'll ever get my job."

Charlie Swan's bushy brows lifted a fraction. "He may not be after your job."

"But… but you heard what he said, Charlie."

"I heard him, Mike. However, it may be in your best interest to play nice with Black, because he may just be your boss in the very near future. The man is one of the best the Bureau has seen in decades. As a former decorated Army ranger and with several post-graduate degrees to his credit, Special Agent Black could have any of our jobs at a moment's notice."

Jacob closed the door behind him as he winked at Emily Young. He walked past her desk to a room where he could sit and read the file on Embry Call. He was serious when he had said he wanted out of the field. In three years he would turn thirty five, and by that time he knew he would be more inclined to sit behind a desk. What he didn't want to think about was not finding his brother before the gun traffickers did.

Things will be explained in upcoming chapters.

But if you have any questions you can PM or review and I'll answer them :)

Review lovies :)