Author's notes: I am so sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. Not only have I been very busy working with my students to prepare for speech competitions, I've also started auditioning students for the spring play. Top it off with my flash drive disappearing for a week; the cat had decided it would be a good toy to bat around the house. I have since forbidden the cat to use the computer and have sworn (again) to save in more than one place.

I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed and those that are following. You really make writing this worthwhile.

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The hours slipped by quickly and still they had no concrete leads. Greg pushed his chair back away from the table in frustration. Add in the fact that the Transport Canada and NAV had discovered nothing and with a quick look at the clock, the first twenty-four hours had just passed.

Ed's own frustration was mounting at the inactivity, he was a man of action and sitting here at headquarters was wearing on his nerves. He would have preferred to jump in a vehicle and drive off to find the two men. That of course was the problem; where to look?

Jules was sitting quietly looking at her cell phone. Even though a tone would sound to let her know that she had a new text, she had found herself glancing at it frequently; hoping for Sam to respond to the text she had sent him the night before. She pushed the button that dimmed the screen; there was nothing new to see.

Across the table, Wordy and Lou sat together looking through phone records of the pilot and his daughter. They were hoping to find a number that might somehow lead them to Hierra. Winnie had continued to hit a brick wall when it came to locating a number for the man. Each number that didn't correspond with a number in the data base was circled and researched.

Winnie walked into the room and handed a piece of paper to Greg. "This just came across the channels. They are releasing the information about the missing plane at 4:00pm. Deputy Chief Holleran is holding it downtown."

"Shit," Ed spoke first. "That means we are going to need to let their parents know. I'm not worried as much about Sam's, but the Scarlatti's aren't going to take it well."

Looking at his watch, Greg nodded and stood up. "Agreed. Lou, why don't you and I head over to their place right now? We can break the news and stay with them for a while. The rest of you, finish up on this phone list and then take off for the day. We'll be back here at 7:30 a.m."

Winnie had stood quietly while Greg had given the team directions. Her face was set with a grim expression and only Jules had been looking her way. Had she not, no one would have seen the tears starting to leak from the corners of the dispatcher's eyes. Turning quickly, Winnie hurried from the room and darted into the women's locker room.

Jules slid out of her seat, "I'll be right back."

"Everything alright?" Greg questioned.

"Yes, just too much Timmy's."

The interior of the locker room was quiet. Team Three were already out on the street and with the exception of Jules and Winnie, the rest of the personnel currently in the building were male. With no one in the stalls, Jules knew that Winnie must be sitting on the bench near the lockers.

"Winnie? It's Jules. Can I do something for you?" Jules spoke from around the corner so that the other woman would have time to compose herself.

There was a brief pause before Winnie answered. "I'm fine."

Jules ventured around the corner of the row of lockers and could see the young woman wiping her eyes with a tissue. "I'm female; I know what that really means." She sat down and looked at Winnie. "It's going to be alright."

"I want to believe that, but there is so much more stacking against them with every passing hour." Winnie wiped at her eyes again. "I should be the one comforting you."

"This is more than just the team isn't it?" Jules realized that Winnie's reaction seemed to be deeper than what might be expected.

"I don't know yet. Spike asked me out and I had told him that I had a rule about dating cops, because I needed balance in my life." Winnie smiled ruefully. "He hasn't given up yet, said that I hadn't mentioned no having cop friends." She laughed slightly at the memory. "He is bound and determined that if we become best friends first then I can't possibly turn him down."

"How long has that been going on?"

"Six months. We've been going to movies and dancing. He hasn't even tried to kiss me."

"Sounds like you've already changed your mind." Jules smiled softly at her co-worker.

"I didn't it realize it until today." Winnie's face crumbled, "Now I'm too late."

"No!" Jules spoke harshly. "You are not too late. The guys are going to be fine. We just need to work on bringing them home."

"I'm sorry Jules," Winnie turned and hugged the other woman. "Thank you."

"Just remember to keep the faith. The guys will come back and we'll be the ones that will have to listen to them brag about how easy it was for them."

Winnie stood and wiped her eyes one more time. "Then I better get working, the sooner they are back the sooner we get to hear their story."

"Exactly and if I know those two, it's going to be dramatic."

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They had worked all morning dragging wood for the fire and also the signal fire. At roughly noon, Spike had called for a break and the men sat around the fire eating two cookies each. Sam had been working on separating the wood that would burn easier for the fire from the other wood that would be used for a signal. Even with the lighter work, his face was etched with fatigue.

"Sam, I think we've got enough wood for a day or two. Why don't you lie down for a while?" Spike took a drink of water and passed it over to his friend.

"Yeah, I could go for a nap." Sam reached for the water but missed.

"Still got that double vision?"

"Think that I'd learn to know which way to reach." Sam moved his hand and made contact with the bottle.

"I wouldn't worry; you got your bell rung pretty good." Spike lied smoothly. "Take a nap and Javier and I will get the signal fire ready."

Javier climbed to his feet and exited the plane. Moments later, Spike was standing by his side.

"I want you to keep bringing in wood while I working on getting some fuel out of the tank." Spike's tone had lost the optimism that he had used inside.

"Are we going to light it when we hear a plane or are we going to keep it going all day?" Javier questioned.

"I think that as soon as I get enough fuel to light it I will. Maybe a search plane will see the smoke. Not knowing exactly where we are I'm guessing that there might not be a satellite that could pick it up."

"I'll get more wood then." Javier headed back into the forest where he had been collecting downed limbs.

Spike set about trying to find something that he could use to siphon fuel from the tank. Pulling at some hosing, he calculated how much he would need. He pulled out his tactical knife and sliced through the tube. Fluid leaked out and stained the snow below. Being careful to avoid getting himself covered in the liquid, Spike cut the other end of the line and let it drain out.

Spike had carried out the soft sided cooler that had held the water and soda that the pilot had brought along for the flight. It would work as a bucket to help transfer the fuel from the hose to the pile of wood that was destined to be the signal.

Checking to make sure that the hose was empty, Spike threaded it into the fuel tank. Wiping off the end of the line that he held, he grimaced. "Not looking forward to this." He began sucking on the end of the hose, working to pull the fuel far enough into the hose that gravity would take over.

The taste of the hydraulic fluid that had originally flowed through the line made Spike grimace. Putting his thumb over the line to prevent the fuel from slipping back into the tank, Spike spit, trying to clear the tasted from his mouth. He went back to the hose and continued pulling the fuel towards him.

It seemed an eternity before he had moved the fluid level far enough to let the gravity pull it the remainder of the way. He filled the cooler and then doubled the hose over and put a rubber band around it. He would have to fill the cooler several times to soak the wood that had been collected.

Javier returned dragging another large branch and he went to work breaking off the smaller limbs and laying them on the pile.

"Start looking for greener wood or some pine boughs, it will make for a smoky fire." Spike had filled his second cooler bag and was carrying it back to the pile of wood.

"Pine boughs?"

"Like Christmas tree branches. Not too many forest in Mexico?"

"Not where my family comes from. Of course the desert gets cold at night."

Spike laughed lightly at this. "Probably not like this. I guess it's a good thing that we have work to keep us warm. Once that sun drops we will start cooling down fast."

"I guess I should go get more wood then. Perhaps we will be found yet today."

"Yeah, maybe." Spike had filled up the cooler for a third time. "I think this might be enough to get us started."

"Do you have a lighter?"

"Nope, I don't smoke and neither does Sam." Spike poured the fuel over the wood.

"I suppose you will rub two sticks together, just like in the movies."

"I could, but I think I'll just use the batteries in one of the flashlights. Plenty of metal lying around, I'll be able to get a spark easy enough."

"I'm impressed that the police teach such things." Javier finished putting the last of the wood on the pile.

"They don't, I just liked blowing things up when I was a kid. My folks started hiding the matches, so I had to get creative."

"Just like the t.v. show I watched as a boy, MacGyver."

"Yeah, something like that." Spike looked around the torn airplane to find the type of metal that he needed. "Go get the rest of the wood that we need, I'm going to start the fire."

Javier turned and headed out of the clearing that had been created by the crash. The cold was starting to settle deep within him and he found himself thinking of the heat of the desert Southwest. Once his father's men found him, he would return to Mexico and hopefully he would never spend another day in the cold.

Spike found the metal he needed and pulled two batteries out of the flashlight from the plane. It took only moments for him to create a spark. He ignited the small pile of tinder and gradually added some fuel soaked wood.

The fire took off nicely, producing a thick black smoke that climbed upwards. Spike stepped back and smiled briefly at the fire. Hopefully the smoke would be seen by a search plane. He moved the cooler bag away from the fire and retreated into the plane to check on Sam.

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Miles away a watchful eye caught sight of a thin tendril of smoke rising from the forest below.

"Look! I think that looks like smoke." He pointed in the direction of the smoke.

"A cabin?"

"No, it's getting darker. We need to check it out."

"Should I radio it in?"

"No. Let's take a fly-over first and see if we spot him. I would hate for this to be a false alarm."

"Agreed, I wouldn't want to disappoint the boss."

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Javier had returned with an armful of branches from an evergreen tree. The fire was burning vigorously and he tossed the branches, one at a time, onto the heap. The fire snapped and popped as it burned.

He stood watching it, feeling mesmerized by the flames. Javier might have stood there for hours, but he heard a faint buzz in the distance. Scanning the sky he moved towards the most open part of the clearing.

Several minutes later a small plane flew by at a low altitude. Spike having heard the noise had come back out of the plane and the two men stood waving their arms; hoping to gain the attention of those aboard the aircraft.

The plane circled around and waggled its wings. A smile broke out on both men's faces, the plane had seen them.

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Greg climbed slowly back into his car. The last hour had been his worst nightmare. He and Lew had gone to the Scarlatti's home and had informed them that their son was missing.

He had prepared himself for the situation he had anticipated. He assumed that both Mrs. And Mr. Scarlatti would be upset and he would have to comfort them and try to encourage them. What he hadn't expected was the venomous anger from Spike's father. Not at the department, but at Spike himself.

Mr. Scarlatti had listened to Greg explaining the situation and without warning the older man had gotten up and walked over to the wall where a series of family photos were displayed. Pulling the one of Spike off of the wall, he had turn it over on the coffee table and looked at his wife. "I have no son."

It was at that point Mrs. Scarlatti had broken into tears and this prompted her husband to start cursing his child. Lew had cornered Mrs. Scarlatti and had convinced her to go to the kitchen with him, requesting a cup of coffee. Greg had started working on the husband.

It didn't take long for Greg to lose all patience with the man. "I could only wish my son would grow up to be half of the man that your son is."

"My son? My son does this to me and his mother. What child brings this misery to his parents?"

"Your son is doing his job and he does it well."

"Ahh, he could be doing amazing things in a laboratory. In a laboratory his mother wouldn't have to cry herself to sleep tonight."

"I can see I'm not going to change your mind Mr. Scarletti." Greg voice was like sharpened steel, "I will let you know as soon as we know more."

Greg headed into the kitchen and traded looks with Lew.

"Boss, I'm going to stay for a while longer if that's alright."

Clamping a hand down on the younger man's shoulder, Greg spoke to his team member. "I think that would be a good idea. I'll see you back at the barn in the morning."

"Copy that boss."

Greg walked out the door, thinking to himself, "Spike I don't know how you do it buddy."