A/N: And here's the next part! Thanks so much for stinking with me so far… I've had so much fun writing this, and I'm so glad that so many of you loved reading it, too. :) Read, enjoy, review! :)

Disclaimer: Not mine!

Chapter 10

Annie paused before entering tech ops, her hand stilled on the doorknob. She listened as Auggie cursed as he tripped over his chair, righting himself before crashing to the floor. A file slipped to the floor in the madness, and the papers slid across the floor in every direction.

She pushed the door open quickly and rushed to Auggie's side. "Are you okay?" she whispered, touching his forearm before bending to pick up the papers.

He resisted the urge to kick something. He had been cooped up for nearly a week straight. He wasn't taking it well.

That, coupled with Avery's constant worrying and the fact that they'd gotten no real progress from the intel Brady had provided —not to mention the fact that no angle he'd searched had provided any results—had put Auggie in a bad mood.

He huffed and plopped into his chair, resisting the urge to growl when the momentum of his actions caused the chair to spin around, increasing his headache.

Lovely.

Annie set the file on Auggie's desk, where it had been, and turned his chair to face her. "Auggie," she began softly.

He didn't attempt to sugarcoat his fowl mood as the focus of his gaze crossed hers before settling somewhere around her left shoulder.

She reached out and intertwined her fingers between his. "Auggie, talk to me," she urged quietly. "You're freaking me out a little, here."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Just a bad day," he said tersely.

"Worried about getting Liam?" she offered.

He grunted, and she knew that was part of it.

She squeezed his hand gently. "We'll get him, Aug. I promise." She paused. She noted the way his eyebrows pinched together toward the center of his forehead. "Headache?" she guessed again.

He reached for his bottle of water and swallowed a swig after popping two extra-strength Tylenol tablets into his mouth. "Bingo."

She caressed his hand gently, wishing he would let her in. "And I know you just tripped over your chair. Probably stubbed your toe."

"That wasn't my fault."

She half-smiled sadly. "I know, Aug. Doesn't make the day better, though."

He grunted in reply.

Her mind returned to Auggie's living arrangements. They had Morse-code messaged the night before, too, and she knew it was getting increasingly difficult to deal with Avery. "Avery?" she ventured. "And being cooped up?"

He winced, as if she had hit a painful nerve. Pulled his hand away from hers. Tried to turn his chair to face his computer.

She turned the chair back around. "C'mon, bud," she whispered, reaching for his hands to pull him up.

"Where are we going?" he demanded.

"Somewhere," she replied.

"I can't leave that file out, Annie…"

She rolled her eyes. "Put it away, then. But you are coming with me, whether you like it or not."

That managed to elicit a smirk. "I am, am I?"

She waited for him to lock the file away, then slid her arm through his. "We just need to make a pit-stop at my desk, real quick." As they did, Auggie wondered, What is she up to?

She retrieved something from a desk drawer, and led him out into the hallway. She pushed the Play button on the tape recorder and the sound of birds, the gentle wind blowing through trees, the buzz of DC traffic, and the general hum of humanity filled the air.

Auggie came to a halt. "Annie? What is that?"

She stopped, too, and paused the cassette player. "Close your eyes," she urged.

He gave her an incredulous look. "Annie, I'm blind, just in case you forgot. It's not going to make that much of a difference."

She rolled her eyes, not caring that he couldn't see. "Goodness gracious, Auggie, you're literal matter-of-factness is ruining the whole thing."

"Literal matter-of-factness?" he inquired with a smirk.

She slapped his upper arm playfully. "So, I make up words. Get over it, bright guy." She glared at him, a smile teasing at her lips. "And close your eyes."

He obliged, and she tugged him forward, playing the cassette once more. "After our first Morse-code late-night talk, I decided that there would be a time that you'd be itching to get out for those walks I know you love so much. So since you can't go to the walk, I decided to bring the walk to you."

He was touched by her thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Annie."

She grinned. "No problem, pal." They continued down the hallway. A few minutes into their walk, Annie slid her hand into his, intertwining their fingers. Their relationship was changing, but she wasn't sure what to think. She wasn't even sure how she felt about Auggie. All she did know was that she liked being with him. Loved his protection. Loved tugging that smile out of him on a rotten day. Loved, most of all, seeing his heart heal before her.

He reached over and kissed what he hoped was her cheek, guessing from her general position next to him. It was meant as a simple gesture of friendship, of thanks, but it was executed dangerously close to the corner of her lips.

He could feel her eyes holding his, and he could imagine the million questions. He had a million questions assaulting him—he could only imagine what she was thinking. And his first question was do you love me, Annie Walker?

He was leaning in for a second kiss, his mind full of Annie and all the questions and certainties he'd had over the past week or two, when a whiney, belabored alto voice came over the cassette player.

"You know, Deb, I've been exercising for an hour every day on the treadmill for the past six months! But any time I actually get off the treadmill and start walking in public, I always end up feeling like a weary banana peel…"

Auggie couldn't help laughing at the woman's proclamation as he pulled back a few inches. Annie giggled along with him.

The moment was gone.

"A weary banana peel?" he inquired, trying not to let his disappointment ruin his time with Annie.

She laughed. "I know. I was trying so hard not to laugh when I was recording it!"

They continued down the hall, sharing the silence (minus the cassette tape) and each other's company. When Annie returned him to tech ops, he had that permanent, smug grin lingering on his features, and she was happy she'd put it there.

She squeezed his shoulder gently as he sat back down at his desk. "Don't you go and have a bad day on me again," she warned with a teasing, hopeful smile.

He winked up at her, and she made her way out of tech ops, realizing that Auggie wasn't the only one to have a change in outlook.

CA

Stu glanced curiously toward the telephone on Auggie's desk. He had left a few moments to update Joan in her office, and now his telephone was ringing. Why was Auggie's phone ringing?

He hurried over to the desk, picking up the phone on the last ring before it would have gone to voicemail. "Smithsonian Institute," he said breathlessly. "How many I direct your call?"

A mechanical, metallic voice on the other end monotoned, "There's a bomb on the USS Ronald Reagan."

Stu glanced around tech ops frantically. Where was Auggie? "Excuse me… a bomb?" he hissed.

"I didn't stutter," the voice returned, just as mechanical. "It's set to go off in exactly two hours."

Stu frantically glanced out into the DPD area, hoping desperately to see anyone who could help. He wasn't a super agent, and this most definitely was not his area of expertise. "Two hours?" he squeaked out.

"Don't make me repeat myself," the voice said, this time with a little more vehemence added. Then, it evened back out to its monotone. "If you value the life of Corporal Zane Giovanni, you better get moving."

There was a pregnant pause. "Tick-tock."

Then the line went dead.

CA

The door to the interrogation room slammed open, the handle bouncing off the wall with its fierce velocity. Brady jumped and turned to see who had entered, his face showing his surprise to see a blind man entering, his folded-up cane gripped tightly in his hand.

The door slammed shut behind him, and he calmly walked to the chair across from Brady. The only clue as to the rage boiling within him was the angry twitch of his cheek. The man was calm, but menacing. In control. He appeared to be more like a force of nature than the agent that had interrogated him earlier.

Brady studied him curiously—the trepidation building—as the man sat down calmly and placed his cane on the table in front of them. The calm before a storm.

"Where's Liam Henry?" he demanded, his even, controlled voice displaying his power. Who was this guy?

"I—I don't know," Brady stuttered. "I told your friend already—Liam's crazy. He does what he wants, when he wants. When I left South Korea, he was set to arrive seven hours later. I told you everything I know, honest…"

"Where's the bomb?" Auggie pressed harder. Zane was not dying on his watch.

Bomb? All the color drained from his face, not that it would have helped his cause. The man couldn't see. Oh, Liam, what have you done? "What bomb?" he managed to squeak out.

The man shoved the table against his midsection, and Brady groaned. Yep. Should have guessed that was coming.

"He's your twin brother. You've helped him with his every plan. Do you really expect me to believe that you're not in cahoots with him now? A bomb has been planted on the USS Ronald Reagan. Where is it?" Auggie ground out the last sentence like a promise. Zane was not dying on his watch.

Brady glanced fearfully back at his blind interrogator. "A bomb? On a Navy ship?" He groaned. Liam, what have you done?

The blind man let go of his grip on the table, and it returned to its place, a few inches from his stomach. Brady breathed in deeply, groaning as he doubled over.

The man was a monster.

"Don't play dumb," the man warned, that strength, that power, back in his voice. Grabbing his cane, he strode around the desk, his hand trailing the edge to keep his way. He grabbed Brady's head and dug his cane into Brady's carotid artery. "You know," he whispered into Brady's ear, "I've been trained in 213 different ways to kill you. Half of which would be excruciatingly painful." He paused for effect. "Now, Zane Giovanni is not dying on my watch. Where is that bomb?"

Brady quivered underneath the man. "I—I don't know! Don't you people listen? I don't want to be a part of what Liam's doing. I never did! I tried to ignore everything he did, stay away from it! He's crazy!"

Auggie dug his cane deeper into Brady's neck and whispered fiercely in his ear, "I don't believe you."

Pure fear enveloped Brady.

The crazed blind man was going to dig his carotid artery out of his throat with a cane. Who does that?

The door slammed open again. "Auggie, what are you doing?" a horrified woman screeched out.

At least, he was pretty sure it was a woman. He didn't want to risk a look. And the roaring in his ears made it a bit hard to tell.

She pulled the blind man away from him, and he gulped in deep breaths. The woman turned to the blind man. "Auggie…"

He flashed her an angry look. "Zane is not dying on my watch, Annie," he ground out furiously.

She cupped his face with her hands, caressing his cheek gently. "I know," she whispered gently. "I know, Auggie. We won't let Zane die. I promise. I promise." Her voice shook with her fervency. "But this is not the way to do it, 'kay?" she pled. "He doesn't know anything. At least, he doesn't think he does. The terror on his face…" Her voice dropped off. She was still reeling from seeing a glimpse at Super-Agent Auggie Anderson.

She slid her arm around his waist, tugging him close. He let her. Tried to forget the pulsing, white-hot fear that consumed him at the thought of Zane being blown up, in the middle of an ocean. No.

Annie slid her hand into his, and tugged him with her toward Brady. She propped her hip against the table. "Brady, we need to know where Liam is. I know you don't know much. But Zane Giovanni cannot die on our watch. We need to keep him safe. Can you think of anything? Where would Liam plant a bomb? What materials would he use? How would he detonate it? If you can help us, I'll try and put in a good word for you, so you can see your family again."

Hope sparked in his eyes. "My family?"

Annie nodded. "Yeah. But first, we need something. Something good."

Brady spent the next twenty minutes outlining exactly what type of bomb Liam would most likely build, and where he would place it. And where Liam might be.

With a squeeze to his shoulder, the girl, Annie, tugged the blind man out of the room.

Brady breathed deep, not sure whether he liked being alone any better. There was altogether too much uncertainty.

CA

Auggie's worry multiplied as he waited for someone to answer the telephone. If he couldn't help Zane, he didn't know what he was going to do with himself.

Zane had to live.

A man on the other side of the telephone line finally picked up. "I need to speak to Zane Giovanni," he barked out. "It's a matter of national security."

This time, it really was. Hundreds of soldiers could die. This was not happening on his watch.

A few moments later, Zane picked up, and Auggie barked through the lines, "Zane, there is a bomb on that ship. I repeat, a bomb. Rigged to blow up the entire ship. This guy means business, Z."

Why didn't you listen to me earlier? he groaned. Then, perhaps, all of this could have been averted.

Auggie painstakingly repeated all the details Brady had tried to remember, hoping it was enough. Location, triggers, bomb material, everything.

When Zane was saying good-bye, Auggie commanded, "Zane, be careful. Don't try and be a hero this time. That bomb is set to go off in less than an hour and a half, and from what our intel says, there is a good chance it'll go off at the slightest problem."

"Relax, Auggie," Zane replied. "I've done this a million times. Besides, I can't leave you and Lily to deal with Avery Gravery's wild conspiracy theories alone."

Auggie managed a smirk. "Be careful, Z."

"Bye, Auggie."

A/N: Review, please!