AIDEN.

A/N: Thank You Jedi Skysinger and Amanda Hawthorn for reading thru parts of this chapter for me and for your thoughts and ideas. You two ladies along with Daisyday help keep my days bright even in the dreary British winter.

As always thanks to those of you who continue to read and review this story.

Chapter Ten, Forsaken.

Fiona's eyes fluttered open and, with a groan, she slowly sat up and looked around. A nauseating cramping pain had caused her stomach muscles to clench tightly, stirring her from a deep sleep. Sitting up, she drew her knees up and, with her arms wrapped around her torso, hunched forward until the pain passed.

Bleary eyed, she peered around the bedroom and realized for the first time she was alone. The soft goose down filled pillows next to her where Michael's head should have been laying were still plump and pristine and the space beside her was cool to the touch. Frowning, she turned to glance at the small digital clock on the bedside table which informed her it was nearly 3 AM.

Where was he? Stifling another groan as her body protested at her leaving the comfort of the bed, she padded on bare feet to the door. He had to be sitting up on guard duty. Shaking her head, she opened the door and stepped into the unlit lounge. They were on the top floor of a hotel with a private elevator and nobody knew they were back in Florida except for Elsa. They were, for the first time in several days, completely safe. Why was he still up?

"Michael?" she called out in a soft low tone.

Getting no answer, she reached along the wall until her fingers skimmed over the light switch and immediately the room was bathed in light. Blinking until her vision cleared, Fiona stared about the empty room. The remains of the meal from earlier was still on the low coffee table, three empty cups, plus several empty beer bottles and their plates and cutlery all lay abandoned.

He must be checking on Sam.

Combing her hair back off her face, she started to cross the lounge and then came to a stop when she caught sight of her appearance in one of the many wall mirrors that flanked the room. The image of lank auburn hair surrounding a pale pinched face with puffy eyes was enough to send her back to the bedroom to freshen up. But what made a retreat even more necessary was the tiny lace panties and bra she was standing about in. With an annoyed hiss, she went back to her and Michael's room to get dressed before she risked being seen by Sam or Jesse.

Wiping her face over with a damp face cloth, she brushed out her hair and then slipped back into the jeans and t-shirt she had been wearing for the last two days. Wrinkling her nose at her appearance, she made her way back out to the living area.

Quietly knocking on Sam's door, she entered without waiting for a reply. The light was out; the only sound was Sam's snoring.

"Michael?" she whispered, peering into the darkness.

Creeping forward, she did a cursory check on their injured friend. Sam was sleeping peacefully, his bullet damaged arm wrapped in clean dressings which gleamed white in the unlit room. Biting down on her lower lip, she felt a chill run up her spine.

Where the hell was he? Before she could come up with an answer, her stomach clenched again, making her gasp as the muscles knotted tighter than before. Massaging her sore stomach, she left Sam's room and went to check on Jesse. As far as she could remember Jesse and Michael had been talking when she had fallen asleep. Maybe he said something to the younger man.

Reaching his room, she knocked and entered almost immediately, wearing a bright smile on her face as she prepared to explain why she was barging into his room in the early hours of the morning.

"Jesse, I'm sor- ry." She came to a halt and stared at the bed which obviously hadn't been slept in.

The only sign the room had been used was a faint ruffling of the bed covers where he must have sat down at some point and the bag he had brought with him off Inez's aircraft.

This was bad, very bad. Her heart began to pound in her chest. Where had they gone?

Leaving the door to Jesse's room wide open, she stormed back across to Sam's room and flung the door open hard enough that it hit the wall with a bang.

"Where the hell are they?" she demanded loudly.

Apart from a single cough followed by a complaining moan, Sam didn't stir, and at that moment she remembered the sedation and the strong painkillers Elsa's doctor had administered. Wherever Michael and Jesse had gone, they obviously hadn't taken the time to tell Sam.

Fiona's mind was now working furiously as she marched purposefully back into the living area and then out to the lobby and the elevator. They had gone out, that much was obvious. But why? To get guns? To do a perimeter search? It didn't make sense.

Pressing the call button, she waited for a couple of seconds then jabbed at it even harder a second, then third time. With her arms crossed over her chest, she waited impatiently, but after a minute she'd had enough and pressed her ear up against the cold metal door; there was nothing. No whirr of cables or rumbling of an approaching car. Now there was no doubt in her mind that Michael and Jesse had sneaked away without her. Why else would the elevator be jammed?

Closing her eyes she paused, breathing deeply through her nose, her mouth fixed in a harsh straight line. He had deliberately jammed the elevator. He had gone off, taking only Jesse with him as back up. What the hell are you up to, Michael? Another sudden cramping pain left her gasping to breathe. And not only had she been left behind, she had eaten something that had upset her stomach.

Walking slowly back into the lounge, she reached for the hotel phone and stabbed her index finger down hard on the key which would put her through to reception. Letting out a sigh, she rolled her shoulders back and forth as she tried to release some tension and compose herself.

"This is Ms. Jenkins in the penthouse. The elevator appears to be stuck." she informed the woman on the other end of the phone.

"I'm sorry Ms. Jenkins I will notify maintenance right away. I'm sorry for the inconvenience. Is there – ?"

"No, it's fine." Fiona pinched the bridge of her nose as a headache began to build. "Just get it fixed as quickly as possible."

Slamming the phone down, she stared at the desk top, her eyes narrowing as they spied a delicate glass vase. With an angry swipe of her hand, she sent it shattering onto the marble floor. He had promised they were a team! A metal statue flew across the room, smashing into one of the many wall mirrors, sending even more glass shards across the floor. The lying bastard had done it again! Left without a word. Coward! Breathing deeply she stared at all the shattered glass; it was a clear reminder of the state her life was in. She was going to find him and kill him slowly. She was going to make him wish he had never been born.

Returning to her room, she searched around the floor looking for her shoes. Her mind was whirling from one thought to the next, anger and frustration at him running off fighting with fear and concern for his safety. Somewhere out there Tom Card and God only knew how many other CIA agents he had in his pocket were looking for them all.

With her shoes on, she delved into her purse and pulled out her favorite side arm. Checking the clip, she slammed it back into place and headed back to the lounge to await the call that the elevator was back in service.

Sitting and waiting wasn't helping her state of mind and pacing the floor space, her boots scrunching on all the broken glass, only made her feel worse. Throwing her purse down onto the couch, she went searching for a broom and dust pan and brush to clean up the mess she had made. She was kneeling down to sweep up the pile of broken glass into the dustpan when another cramping pain hit. She took a moment, placing a hand over the taunt muscles and rubbing at her stomach as she tried to ease the pain.

As the pain dulled, Fiona got to her feet and slowly stretched and rubbed at her back, which was also beginning to ache. It was ridiculous, all she had had to eat was a tuna salad and it had tasted delicious. Dropping down onto the couch, she laid her head back and tried to sort through her thoughts.

Michael had been so angry over the betrayal by his old mentor; she knew he was no longer thinking clearly. He had been on edge, almost out of control….And, at that moment it hit her: he had gone off to kill Card. That had to be it. There was no other reason for him to sneak away.

It was like a punch to her already very sore gut. He had somehow managed to talk Jesse into going with him as his back up and left her behind to nurse maid Sam. All the old fears of abandonment began to rise, the similarity to what he had done before back in Ireland fuelling her anger. For a brief moment, she wondered if he had drugged her like he had all those years ago. But before the thought could take hold, she dismissed it. She knew what waking up from a drug induced sleep felt like and the intense cramping pains she was suffering from now were nothing like being slipped a mickey.

Swiping at her eyes, she got to her feet and, after a quick look at the clock which now showed 04:16, walked over to the kitchen. What she needed was a good strong cup of tea. Then once she got the call that the elevator was fixed she would – she paused, her heart dropping like a stone. She didn't have a clue where to start looking. Damn him!

Filling the kettle, she switched it on and then stared pensively at the pot waiting for it to bubble and boil. If he had gone to kill Card, and if he succeeded in executing the sonuvabitch, there would be little hope for him. He would be mercilessly hunted down by his own government. He needed a team backing him up. He needed her!

"Dammit, Michael," she sighed, grabbing a cup and then searching for the teabags. "Why d'ya take Jesse wid ya?"

That was the twist of the knife he had driven into her heart. He had chosen to take Jesse with him when he should have chosen her.

Pouring the boiling water over the teabag, she added a large teaspoon of sugar before giving the brew a stir and tossing the teabag into the sink. With the cup in her hand, she walked slowly back to the lounge feeling miserable and trapped. Slumping down onto the couch, she sipped at the brew unable to stop the hurt continuing to grow.

Hadn't she always been supportive? She would have gone with him; they could have run together. Why the hell did he always think she needed a white knight to keep her safe? She could take care of herself! Wasn't she the one with all the contacts? It had been a friend of her parents, a sweet old man who had enabled them to escape Panama, who had died so they could get away.

A tear trickled down her cheek and she brushed it away. She wasn't going to cry, not this time. Placing the empty cup onto the table she leaned back, letting her head tilt up so she could stare at the ceiling. Aiden Malloy, he had been like a fixture in her parents' house for the first eight years of her life. Sweet, charming and nearly always laughing, he had taught both her and Sean how to throw a punch and that sonuvabitch Card had gotten him killed.

Fiona's eyes fluttered open and closed, just as she began to succumb to the need to sleep the trill of the phone snapped her awake. Jumping to her feet she crossed the room at a run.

"Mi-!"

"Ms, Jenkins?" Fiona's heart sunk. It was the receptionist.

"Yes?"

"Your elevator is working now, ma'am. I hope you haven't been inconvenienced too much by the delay."

"No, not at all. Thank you."

"Is there anything else –?"

"No, that's fine, thank you." She ended the call, grabbed up her purse and moved with a purpose to the elevator and couldn't travel down to the parking garage fast enough.

The last hope of chasing after him was gone, they had taken the minivan. Well of course they had, it stopped her taking it and meant if she wanted to leave the penthouse, she was going to have to steal her own ride. Not a big problem, but it all added to widening the gap between them.

Damn you to hell, Michael. I swear when I find ya, I'm going to kill ya meself.

It was useless to stand staring at the very secure parking garage, with all the cameras and the guard on the gate there was no way she was getting transport from there. She needed to sit down and think things through and come up with a way of catching up with the two runaways before one of them did something that would end his life and get the other a lifetime in prison.

Don't fer one minute think you're getting outta this undamaged, Jesse Porter, I'm gonna think of sommit special fer you.

Back upstairs, the luxury of the penthouse made her feel even worse, Michael had deliberately left her trapped in a gilded cage. At least this time he hadn't drugged her. She tried to raise a small smile, but it didn't work. Somewhere out there he was walking into danger. Tom Card had trained Michael, taught him most of his spycraft. He had access to all Michael's field reports and pysche evaluations.

"Ahh!"

This was the worse one yet, almost dropping her to her knees. What the hell was going on? Had Michael noticed something was wrong and that was why he had left her to babysit Sam?

A quick glance at the clock told her it was nearly five in the morning. she had no idea where the fugitives had gone and they had to have had at least a ten hour head start. Feeling utterly drained and with her stomach still uncomfortable, she collapsed onto the couch and curled up in a ball.

Oh, why didn't he wait to see what Elsa's call to Cowley produced. Or he should have at least taken her with him instead of Jesse…. She was better with a gun, she knew his every move... But she hadn't seen this move one coming….. She would wait for the pain to ease and then she was going to drag Sam out of his bed and….

"Hey, sleepy head, it's lucky you were never in the military. Ya get hard time for fallin' asleep at your post."

Fiona sat bolt upright and glared at Sam Axe.

"You're up," she announced, a very small part of her was pleased to see him up on his feet and looking less like death warmed up. Another part of her was highly disturbed that she had fallen into such a deep sleep that she hadn't known he was up until he was almost on top of her.

"No fooling you, is there? Where's Mike and Jesse?" He looked around the room.

"They've gone, bailed on us," she told him as she got to her feet. "I think Michael has gone to kill Card and Jesse has gone with him," she continued. This was good. With Sam up on his feet, he could help her find Michael.

"Jesus!" Sam sank down. "You sure?"

"Well, they're gone and they didn't bother to let either of us know. So what do you think?" she snapped back, grabbing up her purse she stared angrily at him. "C'mon, Sam we have to-"

"Hey, slow down, Tinkerbell, and just let me think for a moment, will ya?... When did they leave? How much head start have they got on us?"

"I don't know, maybe twelve hours... I fell asleep." Fiona added the last bit in a quieter tone, embarrassed at her unusual lethargy.

"Twelve hours? That's not good. Mike will be back in Miami by now. In fact, he's had time to -"

"Miami? You're sure that's where they've gone? Then we need to get moving. Michael's going to need help getting out of the country and I'm going to kick his ass every inch of the way to -" Fiona was ranting again.

"Hey! Calm down. Get me the phone. I'm gonna call Elsa. I'm not up to an eight hour drive especially with you behind the wheel."

Fiona picked up the phone and as good as threw it in his direction as she paced nearby. As far as she was concerned, this was a delaying tactic. But the thought that Sam was somehow colluding with Michael to keep her out of the way was dropped almost as soon as it popped up.

Listening to Sam sweet talk the latest love of his life was enough to turn Fiona's stomach at the best of times.

"I'm going to get some air," she announced brusquely, hoping Sam hadn't noticed the sweat beading on her forehead.

Twenty minutes later, he was off the phone and standing next to her on the terrace, looking down on the busy street below.

"I've got us a ride. Elsa is getting her G6 gassed up and it's gonna collect us in two hours. All we have to do is get back to the airfield we were at yesterday. I've already called us a cab. Elsa will pick up the tab."

"Good." Fiona didn't trust herself to speak. The fresh air had helped the nausea, but her stomach still felt like she had taken a beating.

"You okay, little sis?"

"I'm fine, Sam. I must have eaten some bad tuna. Let's get ready to go. I suppose with the state you're in, you expect me to do all the heavy lifting."

Moving quickly so the older man couldn't keep up, Fiona set about gathering up all his medication and dressing before collecting their sparse belongings all together.

Just as she finished piling up everything by the elevator, the phone began to ring. "That will be the front desk to say the cab is here."

She picked up the handset and, at the first softly spoken word, she paled.

"Fiona."

"Michael?" Her own voice came out as barely more than a whisper.

"I'm alright... I'm sorry I couldn't tell you... Let you... Look, it's gonna be alright. I want you and Sam to lay low."

"Michael, what have you done? Where are you? We're on our way to Miami. We'll -" Her heart was racing, she felt both elated and scared stiff.

"No! Stay where you are, you're safe. Please, Fi, honey, do what I say... I'll see you soon... I promise... Bye, Fi."

"Michael!" she howled into the mouthpiece as the connection was broken.

()()

Hundreds of miles away, Jesse Porter was sat in a small, windowless room handcuffed to a sturdy rectangular table. The back of his head still ached from the blow it had taken when the two burly men dressed in cheap suits had body slammed him to the ground.

Doing his best to get comfortable while sitting in the hot, stuffy room, he prepared to play the waiting game. He had, after all, been a counter intelligence agent. He knew how the game was played. From the tight steel band around his wrist reminding him he was a prisoner, to the drab overheated room designed to weaken his spirit, he expected he would be facing hours in this room without food or water, until his captors deemed he would be ready to talk.

He wished he knew exactly what it was Michael had done. Was Card dead? It had sounded like the sonuvabitch was spinning out a tale, but he hadn't caught the end of the scene because he had spotted Frick n' Frack moving in on his position and had been forced to bail. He did however have one ace in the hole: a nice little recording of Tom Card admitting to off the book deals in Yemen, Pakistan and China. Unfortunately, he'd had to ditch the recording before being picked up. At the moment, the incriminating evidence was hidden amongst the dense foliage of one of the many shrubs that surrounded the Eden Roc hotel.

He had no way to be sure, but it must have been at least three hours after he had first been left in the room that the door swung open.

"Mister Porter, sorry to have kept you waiting." The agent was a dark skinned woman with slicked back hair pulled into a tight ponytail. She released him from the handcuffs and stood back. "Follow me."

"I'm being released?" Jesse asked as he got to his feet. This was unexpected. He tried to think what it could mean.

She laughed, but it was more sarcastic than friendly. "Not exactly. Follow me, please." She opened the door and stepped out into a narrow corridor.

"Whoa, wait a minute. I promised my mom I'd never to go off with strangers. So who are you and where are you taking me?"

"You don't need to know my name, Mister Porter, and as to where I'm taking you – I am escorting you to a briefing for your assignment."