Twenty-five – Hudson's Apartment (mid-morning)

When the phone rang, Jack peeled open a bleary eye to check the time. 10: 28 am. Man, I haven't sleep this late since…since the Weston case anyway. He rolled over, reaching for the offensive instrument.

"Hudson."

"Hey, Jack. It's Coop."

The brown-headed man grimaced slightly as he sat up on the bed. "What's up, MacBride?"

"Just checking to see if you are still interested in coming out tomorrow." The voice on the other end sounded mildly amused. "Were you sleeping, Hudson?" A throaty chuckle followed the comment.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I…I had a long night." Sighing, he ran a hand through his already tousled hair.

"I won't ask then. Had a few too many of those myself." There was a pause. "You off today, then?"

"Yeah, for the most part."

"Why don't you come out and help me set up for tomorrow's run? We have two scenarios going today as well. It could be fun; get your mind off things."

Jack thought about it for a moment before replying. "Sounds good."

"Right. Meet me at the last staging point around fourteen hundred. Bring your gear." A final click and the voice was gone.

Falling back on his pillow, the brown-eyed man stared at the ceiling. How did I get here? Why can't I figure this out? He glanced at the pile of running clothes on the floor, his shoes looking a bit worse for wear. Ten miles…usually running helps me clear my head, but not this time. I just don't know anymore. He thought of Sue and gave a half sad smile. She'd say to pray about it, but I think I am beyond that at this point. Resetting his alarm, he rolled over and closed his eyes, evasive sleep finally claiming him.

Twenty-six – Surveillance Van somewhere in DC

Joss Tompkins had been surprised to see them so soon, but welcomed the help.

"Make yourself at home, Thomas." He took care to address her directly. "Eldridge here is our tech geek. He'll set you up with all our video input as well as source tape. If you see anything we might have missed or something of note, please let me know. We want to get this group off the street ASAP."

Myles leaned back as much as he could in the small space. He usually wasn't on the van end of things, but this was Sue's area and he wanted to learn more about her mode of operation.

Currently, she was situated behind a bank of monitors, watching previous surveillance tapes, bringing herself up to speed. Myles watched as well, taking a look at the file to see if anything jumped out at him. He tuned out the clacking of keys and the minor hum of the monitors, focusing on the text before his eyes. It wasn't until she said his name a second time that he looked up at her.

"Come see this."

The Harvard grad moved to watch over her shoulder as she cued up a tape that was marked from two days earlier.

"Watch here. Suspect one comes into frame. The wind is blowing and he tosses away a piece of paper. As he continues across frame, he tosses three more pieces." She looked at him expectantly.

Adjusting to be seen, he asked, "What is the relevance?"

"Remember our quirks conversation?" At his bemused grin, she continued. "Suspect one, Daniel Wallace, has a quirk. He tears paper when he's not thinking. I have watched six tapes, and every tape has him doing the same mindless thing."

Gray-blue eyes blinked, connecting the dots. "Wallace can be placed at the scene by more than just tape evidence. I'm betting there are still pieces of paper at his last visual point. Eldridge, bring up Wallace live."

The tech complied, and the three of them began watching for the telltale paper trail. Eldridge spotted it right away, notifying the agent on the street.

"Tompkins said to tell you that if you keep this up, we'll be done before rush hour."

Sue gave a tight smile and turned back to her tapes. They still had four more suspects to track. She wasted no time diving right into the next batch of video.

Myles saw the determination that had always been there, the focus and skill that had made his team work so well. But he also saw that with a little freedom, her abilities would soar. Sighing deeply, he settled in to watch with his 'partner', equally determined to do his share.

Three hours later, the trio had pegged each of the four suspects with a quirk, a habit (one not pleasant at all: Myles shuddered thinking about it), lazy manners, or just plain stupidity. Tompkins' team had moved in on each tag, enough hard evidence on each man to ensure they wouldn't be getting out anytime soon.

Eldridge sighed as he removed his headset. Looking over at the 'on loan' team, he smiled. "I have never looked at tapes quite the way you do, Miss Thomas." He extended a hand. As she shook it, he told her, "Thank you for the pointers."

In return, she signed WELCOME while replying, "You're welcome, Eddie. Once you figured out what we were looking for, you made it much easier with your technical expertise." She smiled as she glanced at Myles.

"It was like working with Tara. Not bad, Eldridge." The Harvard grad gave credit where it was due.

A knock sounded on the van door. With a push of a button, the tech checked the outer camera, confirming the identity of his unit leader. The door swung open; Tompkins entered.

"Hiya, folks!" His grin was incandescent. "We nabbed all five without a hitch. Feels good to get them off the street."

"Just another day's work," Myles leaned against a console, arms crossed.

"Hey, I take my victories very seriously and celebrate accordingly. Will you two join the team for dinner tonight?" Joss was hopeful, looking from the taller agent to the smaller analyst.

"Sounds…fun?" Sue hedged.

Thinking about the times the team had gone out as a group, the Bostonian came to her rescue. "Where were you thinking of going?"

"Usually we go to the El Toro. Most of the team likes Mexican food." Green eyes squinted at the pair. "Why? What's up?"

Hesitantly, Sue spoke. "I've been to El Toro. The lighting isn't that good. But I do like the food." She bit her lip slightly.

At Tompkins' look of confusion, Myles clarified. "In order to see the conversation and participate, we need to be able to see each other talking." He paused a moment, tapping his chin thoughtfully. Turning to Sue, he asked, "Where was that place with the Tex-Mex, the one D took us to?"

"Los Amigos?"

He nodded.

Eldridge piped up, "I know the one you are talking about. Kincaid was mentioning that the other day. He likes the chimichangas there. Would that work?" He directed the question to the blond woman.

Sue smiled. "Yes, it would be great. What time do we meet?"

The unit leader looked at his watch and said, "Six good for you two?"

Myles signed SIX as Tompkins had lowered his face, hiding his mouth. Clearing his throat, the Bostonian garnered the other man's attention. He raised his eyes and realized his mistake. "Oh, sorry. Is six good?"

"Yes, I can be ready to go then."

"As can I. Would you like to ride with me, Thomas?"

"Thank you, but no. I will be meeting someone later in the evening so I will take my own car."

"All right then," Joss smiled crookedly. "We'll see you at Los Amigos at six. Reagan will have copies of our reports and paperwork for you to look over on Monday, so don't worry about this stuff this weekend. I'll see you tonight."

Making their farewells, the pair disembarked from the van and headed toward their own vehicle. In silence, Myles drove Sue to her apartment. Once there, he laid a soft hand on her arm, halting her exit from the car.

"Are you going to be all right at this place?"

She winked at him. "I think so. It is well lit and open. Plus, one of the managers is HOH. I know her from the poetry readings. It should be fun."

"If at anytime you want to leave, just let me know."

"I will. And Myles, thank you for being such a good partner and friend." She made the sign as she spoke.

WELCOME he signed back.

Twenty-seven (Hoover Building-evening)

All day. The bloke had been unreachable all day long. It wasn't like Jack not to answer his phone. But then, he is on leave. Bobby shook his head as he flipped his cell shut. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced at the reports lying on his desk. Mum would be proud. He picked up the stack and took them to Lucy's desk where the rotor grinned up at him.

"All done?"

"Yeah." He gave her a small grin back and turned away.

"Bobby?"

He tilted his head toward her, but didn't turn.

"I'm…I'm sorry about the thing with Cheryl. I really thought she'd be a nice match for you."

The Aussie thought for a minute before responding. "It's okay, Luce. I think I've learned my lesson for a while. Just…no more dates, 'kay?"

She nodded at his retreating back and shot a glance across to Tara who shrugged. "What's with him?" she mouthed.

"Don't know," was the reply.

Grabbing his jacket, Bobby gathered his stuff and prepared to go home. The elevator ride was quiet, not like usual, when the team was together, leaving for home or going out. He sighed as the metal doors slid open, herding him out into the lobby of the Hoover Building. Like ants on the march, agents and servants of the public and greater good went their separate ways.

Once home, he tried Jack on his cell one more time. Come on, Jack. Answer. Nothing. Beer in hand, the Aussie settled in to watch hockey by himself. It was looking to be a long night.

Twenty-eight – Med Ward (early evening)

Cooper MacBride winced as I'Lee dabbed the iodine on his cuts and scratches. "So, tell me again, how did this happen?"

The sharpshooter frowned disgustedly. "My friend mistook me for a commando and tried to take me out of the scenario." Nearby, Greg laughed good-naturedly, earning a glare from the patient. "Laugh it up, you twig. I'm sending you out with us next time."

I'Lee rolled her eyes. "Lowlight, you can't commandeer nurses at your whim." She applied a bandage with a little more force than needed. "Besides, Greg is helping me with little AC's drive."

"Consider yourself razzed, Lowlight. She doesn't stick out her tongue at everyone. You must have hit a nerve." The lanky nurse handed Cooper a scrub top to wear in place of his shredded T-shirt.

"Whatever, Twig." Hopping of the bed, the sharpshooter tossed the mangled mess into the trash and slid into the pro-offered uniform. He followed Greg out to the nurse's station and leaned against the desk. When I'Lee looked up from her typing, he gave her a serious face. "I'll be in to test on Sunday. Tomorrow is a full day off the base for me."

The strawberry blond nurse shook her head ruefully. "I'm sorry for snapping. It's been a long day with all the tele-conferencing with California." Muffled cursed came drifting down the hall. "And it sounds like it's not over. That's probably Rhonda on the phone with them now. Not the most cooperative bunch."

"Tell me about it. Bureaucracy is the same everywhere. We just learn to deal or work around it." He slapped the desk and pushed off. "I'm headed to my quarters. Gotta long day tomorrow. I'll see you Sunday."

"Got it written down, right here. See you then." She tossed him a half salute as he jogged out of the hall. Spinning in her chair, she faced her friend. "So…Twig…"

Gray-blue eyes squinted at her. "I know where you live."

She gently snorted. "If Beach ever finds out…"

Greg shook his head at the mention of the Ranger's name. "Twig. Why couldn't it've been something cool like Stretch or Mr. Fantastic? I mean, look at Eric. Hulk fits him."

I'Lee raised a brow at that. "Rhonda hasn't got a name yet."

"Yeah, well, she'd kill anyone who gave her a bad one."

The pair looked at each other and busted out laughing. The Asian nurse took only so much from the soldiers before exacting her own brand of revenge. As if on cue, grumbling came down the hall, moving closer to the nurse's station.

"If I EVER have to talk to those clowns again, I'll…" dark brown eyes looked up at the two nurses trying to keep straight faces. "What?"

"Nothing," I'Lee squeaked. "Doc told me to tell you that tomorrow he'll handle the West Coast and to let you off early. So, go on. Get outta here."

Rhonda perched on the edge of the desk and sighed. Her fine black hair swayed with the movement. "Let me just sit a minute. Those nuts out there remind me why I moved away from San Fran in the first place."

Greg plopped into a chair and started typing in the day's testing info for processing while I'Lee watched her former suite mate. "You okay?" she whispered.

"Yeah. I might go hang out in the Common Room for a while. See if Ace is down there playing cards."

Without looking, Greg tossed over his shoulder, "Where's Wild Bill?"

"There's a big to-do in D. C. tonight, and he's on standby re-con." Neither nurse missed the wistfulness in her voice.

It was silent in the Ward except for the key clacking and the occasional beep from a monitor. Finally, Rhonda stood and left without a word.

"Guess this AC thing has us all stressing over different things," said I'Lee. She thought of her own bout of last evening.

"Yeah. I guess it does. Mortality staring you in the face can do that." He rested his fingers on the keyboard for a moment. "But we'll find a match. Somewhere, we'll find one."

Twenty-nine – Moriarty's Pub (late evening)

Jack sat at the bar, nursing a LeBatt and smirking at himself in the mirror. What am I doing here? He shook his head to come out of his reverie. The bartender merely raised an eyebrow at him. I ought to get home. It's been a long day. Taking a bill from his wallet, he paid the 'tender and waited for his change.

Stretching his arms, he walked out to his vehicle. The air was crisp, but not cold, and felt good on his face. He sighed as he got in the car. The drive home was fairly quick, and he got out, grabbing his gear from the trunk. I need to clean my rifle. After what I did today, I'll be surprised if Coop even talks to me again. Smirking to himself, Jack trudged up the stairs and entered his apartment. He did say I could take out anyone. I just didn't expect him to get between me and my mark.

He pulled out his cell phone and plugged it in to charge. I can't believe I let this run down. Voice mail is probably full. Oh, well.

Settling on the couch, he unpacked his sniper rifle and began cleaning it, letting his mind drift back to the events of the day.

It was mid-afternoon when he had reached the training site. Cooper MacBride met him at the parking area and waited as Jack pulled on his gray coverall.

"So, what's the plan?"

"General mayhem. Just keeping everyone on their toes." He pulled a blue woolly cap over his unruly light brown hair. "Everyone is fair game today."

Jack had looked up at that. "Even the commandos?"

Coop shrugged. "If you think you can hit one."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Let's just say that you'd be the first if you actually make a 'kill' shot on one."

Brown eyes glinted. "I guess I need to go get set." Jack took off toward the fields with Coop lagging behind. "Hey, aren't you coming?"

"I am. Just trying to figure your angle."

"I guess I need to do something different today. Get some bugs outta my system."

The other sniper caught up and clapped a hand on the agent's shoulder. "Yeah, well, don't get carried away, Hudson. Payback's a b…-"

Both men halted as an explosion sounded. The two locked glances, and Coop thumbed his radio. "Uh, Demo One, this is MacBride. Anyone care to explain? Over."

A hassled voice came back. "This is Demo One. Sorry 'bout that, MacBride. Demo Two forgot to radio. We're doing a clearing of the lines. Won't happen again. Over."

"They using live explosives tomorrow?"

"Only on the outskirts. It's low yield and in most cases, set to go off in a re-verb chamber, thus the loud sounds. In the dense places, we have a few surprises for our bomb squad volunteers." Seeing Jack's raised eyebrow, the sniper grinned. "We have to make it real without damaging our 'guests'."

"Whatever you say. When do we get started?"

At that point, Cooper had unrolled several maps, laying out the locations of the various scenarios so the two of them could cause the most havoc to laid out plans. Agreeing to meet at nineteen hundred, they split up and went to radio silence except for tags.

Methodically, Jack had gone from camp to camp, taking shots at various 'bad' guys as well as 'good' guys. He was keeping careful watch for the elusive commandos and had yet to see one when he came across a camp in full-blown 'fire' fight. He dropped to one knee, bringing his scope up to see what the melee was about.

He could make out one figure in a black tee shirt arguing with several in business type shirts. Not caring who was out dealing whom, he had taken aim and let a paint ball fly. It smacked a suit in the arm, causing tension in the camp to skyrocket. It was then that he spied a black-clad figure stealing out of the left side of the 'compound.'

Gotcha. Squinting, he locked on target and eased down on the trigger. The paint ball flew straight and true and…missed? It splattered on a tree next to the man in black. Jack suddenly had the feeling he was found out. Not wasting time, he squeezed off six more rounds, each practically chasing his target. How does he move like that?

Taking a moment to re-adjust for direction and wind, the brown-headed man found his target crouched behind a small boulder. The brush surround his quarry was thick, nearly impenetrable. Briars, thorns, it would be hard going to move quickly. This time… He sent a few rounds of bright green in the direction of the man in black. They hit the rock, but the wraith wasn't there. Damn.

Once more, he adjusted and found his prey moving into the dusk among several fleeing 'agents' and 'terrorists.' As he took aim and fired, a blue and black coverall popped up in his scope and took the impact of three green balls of paint. He watched as Coop shrugged loose from the top of his uniform and turned to see who had taken a shot at him. Unfortunately, he hit an embedded rock and took a spill into the dense brush.

Oooo, that's gonna sting. Jack had winced as his friend went down. And I am never going to hear the end of it. Sighing, he put his rifle in to safe mode and slung it onto his back and began the trek back to the main staging area.

Cooper had not been very pleasant in his greeting. "What the hell do you think you were doing?"

"I was taking a shot. It WAS clear until you stepped into my line of fire."

The scratched man snorted ruefully. "I guess I can accept that."

"I had him in my sights. He was about six steps ahead of where you were."

Nodding, Cooper had acknowledged seeing the commando.

As the two packed their gear a bit later, he asked Jack a question. "So, what's bothering you?"

"Huh? Nothing. Nothing is bothering me." He tried to brush it off with a half-smile.

Gray eyes pinned him with a stare. "Jackson, I went to school with you, remember? Whenever something was on your mind, your accuracy went way up, and you tended to focus more. Girl problems again?"

The agent had tried to cover his double take with a cough. "What?"

"Man, you would become hyper-focused if there was a lady involved."

"Am I that transparent?"

"Not really. I'm just more observant." The other sniper winced as he went to remove his torn t-shirt.

"You'd better leave that on until you get back to base; otherwise, you'll start bleeding again."

"Yeah. No thanks to you, Hudson."

"Anyway I can help, MacBride."

They had gotten their respective vehicles, when Coop pulled next to Jack's with the window down. "Whatever it is that's on you mind, deal with it or don't come out tomorrow. Between the scenarios and the live explosives, I don't need a wired shooter."

"I know."

A buzzing noise brought him out of his reverie. His cell was moving across the table, still on vibrate from the afternoon. He took a look at the ID and groaned. The missed call said it was from Bobby and there were sixteen messages in his voice mail. Running a hand though his hair, he leaned back on the couch. I really need to sleep on some things. Would I be a bad friend for not calling back tonight? With a quirk of his jaw, the brown-headed man opted for a shower before making any decisions.

The water eased away dirt and doubts as well as thoughts of talking. Shower done, he wandered over to the bed and plopped down, his eyes closing to the sound of gently falling rain.

Thirty – Washington, D. C. (after Midnight)

It was not coincidence that Sue woke up shortly after a major, nearby lightning strike. Hazel eyes snapped open as a furry body jumped up on the bed.

"Levi!"

The golden retriever wiggled next to her, reacting to the ferocity of the storm outside. Sighing as he nosed as close to her as possible, she peered toward the clock to see what the time was. Nothing. It was then that she noticed her sight light was off as well. No electricity.

Leaving the warm comfort of Levi and her bed, Sue walked over to the window and looked out. Beyond the glass, storm clouds were thick and heavy with rain, lit on occasion by powerful flashes of light. She leaned her head against the cool glass, feeling the pelting of the drops against the clear barrier. I wish the rain could wash away this feeling in my heart. I want for things to be different. I want for them to go forward…but until I let go…

The shivers she felt then weren't from the storm outside, but from the one within. The tighter I hold on, the more I hurt, the more he'll hurt. I'm scared to let go…but I have to have faith, Father, that You will catch me if I fall.

Sue wrapped her arms tightly, hugging herself in a measure of strength. I can't continue like this…

A flash lit the sky as if in response to her declaration. Raising a finger, she traced the path of a single drop from point of impact until it reached the windowsill. It joined the flow of other drops, headed downward, toward the ground. I am not bound to this path. I know You have called me, and I must follow…

In the dark, she fell to her knees, sobs shaking her frame as she cried.

Miles away, a hand reached out in vain, his own grief for hers silent.

Outside, the thunder rolled and lightning flashed, jolting the sleeping man to wakeful unease. I must have been dreaming again. It seemed so real. He reached over to turn on the lamp, only to find it didn't work. Must've blown a transformer. That last strike was close by.

Bare feet moved quickly across the chilly floor. He found his phone and checked the time. 3:15 am. Sheesh.

Awake now, he flopped on the couch and grimaced as he saw the list of calls he'd missed during the day. Of the twenty-two, eight were from Bobby, the most recent at 10:32 pm. Six were from his mom. No doubt worried about something she'd seen on the news. One from Lucy. Lucy? Two from Randy Pitts. Arg. Brown eyes rolled. Probably why Luce called, to give me a heads up. Five were from an unknown number. I'll have it run Monday, to see who was so persistent.

Curiosity got the better of him and he checked the first message from Bobby. …Mate, where are you? We need to talk. Call me…

Jack frowned. The Aussie sounded…perturbed. I wonder why? He checked the remaining seven and found them to be pretty much the same. What's eating him? I guess I should have called. He sighed deeply, wondering how things seemed to pile up on him all at once.

I need to think…this thing with Sue has gotten me so rattled. I thought I was ready to try to see if we could make a life together, but I don't know which way is up anymore. I know I love her. I would do anything for her…but…there is this nagging…I dunno. Something just seems off.

Leaning his head back against the couch, he tried to sort out when and where the feeling had come from. Certainly not this week…although Myles put it clearly into perspective. AM I ready for a long-term relationship with Sue? She's amazing.

A smile creased his lips thinking about her. Beautiful, smart, brave…things that I've always looked for in a woman. Jessica, even Allie had those qualities to an extent. What makes Sue so different? He knew without a doubt it was her faith. THAT sets her apart. It helps make her strong in the face of adversity. Being deaf in a hearing world isn't easy. But that same faith doesn't seem to keep her safe. It pushes her out into danger when she needs to be protected.

He paused as an imaginary Sue responded to that comment. "God protects me, Jack. You just tend to help Him a little too much."

A wry grin appeared. I dunno…sometimes, I think He needs more help…

And the thunder rolled, causing a tousled head to burrow deeper under the covers. Murmurs were muffled, followed by a choked scream. The tall figure suddenly sat upright, steel-blue eyes wide open, sweat dripping from his forehead. He gulped for air, trying to slow his erratic heartbeat.

Several minutes of silence passed, punctuated by shuddering gasps.

When he could move without the fear of emptying his stomach, Bobby reached for the lamp. It flipped on, revealing him to be in his own bed in his apartment. He lay back against his pillow, running mildly trembling hands through his sweat-dampened hair.

Oy.

Blinking a few times, he tried to think rationally about the dream he had…

Oy. Too real, Bobb-o. Haven't had a scream like that since… His internal dialogue trailed off as he remembered what triggered this particular dream. Damn box.