No excuses for lateness. But plenty of guilt. Hope you guys like xx.

Four hours. They will still waiting four hours after the end of the last interview and still no appearance from First Lieutenant Cullen.

After they'd waited the first hour Jacob had retrieved the lunch prepared for them earlier by the mess staff, which they'd eaten cold while both reviewing their notes from the day. Both agreed they needed to speak to Hussein and Cullen before reporting back to Headquarters. Bella had called Aman while Jacob returned their trays but after forty minutes she was still left with the promise that Hussein would be made available to them "soon".

Bella had then set herself up on one side of the room, commandeering an end of the long table and begun working on her outstanding reports leftover from Virginia. Jacob annoyed her by stalking the length of the office repeatedly before taking himself out for a walk around base.

She felt the stress of the day catching up to her. She was closing up on 28hrs without sleep, plus international travel and the adjustment to the Levantine climate. The interview with FL Cullen would take at least an hour, another hour to write it up… then video calls back to the states after that to clarify the details she'd have typed out…

Bella stood. This was ridiculous. Omar Hussein's presence she could not control, but First Lieutenant Cullen was a soldier of the US Military and reportable to Jacob Black and any representative of the Central Intelligence Agency regarding an overseas crime involving a US citizen. So where was he?

She yanked open the door and begun walking down the corridor toward the office of the US commanding officer but was stopped by his clerk once she reached the antechamber.

"He's not in there," the soldier explained, remaining seated. Normally it would be protocol for the man to stand while addressing any guests of the commander, but given the circumstances his apathy was understandable.

"When will he be back? I need to speak with him about a member of his platoon," Bella said.

The soldier looked over at the bland mass-bought clock on the wall, familiar to US military bases all over the world. "He usually finishes his day with a perimeter run… depends on the day and how its been, for how long he's runnin."

Bella sighed and turned back in the direction of their seconded office.

"What ya after? I might be able to help," the soldier offered.

"First Lieutenat Cullen. He was meant to report to Warrant Officer Black and I at 1500."

The soldier's eyes widened. "Cullen? He's gone."

"What?" Bella exclaimed. "Gone where?"

"He's out on Patrol. Twelve hour shift, 0700 – 1900. Didn't anyone tell you that?"

"No," Bella said flatly.

"Y-yeah," the soldier stuttered. "We sent a message to him when WO Black mentioned he wanted to speak with him. Told him to return to base. We got an affirmative reply from his patrol but no idea how far they were out or when he could get back…" Bella stared at him. "…Someone should have brought you guys the message…"

Bella closed her eyes and breathed deep, calling on her reserves. "Ok. Where would he return to once he's back?"

"Green gate, western end of the base. Pass the shower blocks and keep going til you hit the trucks. Want me to get someone to take you?" He seemed desperate to redeem the oversight.

Bella offered him a small smile. "Its ok. I know you're all tired and worn out from everything. And change of shift is soon. I'll take myself. If you see WO Black though, please tell him."

The soldier nodded keenly as she begun walking away, "I will."

~ A ~

Bella's admiration for the marines in Muwaffaq Salti grew the longer she waited by Green gate. It was 107° out and 1700 in the evening. She watched the men engage in their end of shift rituals. Some showering, or heading first to the weights arena; popping in ear buds and taking off shirts before beginning a heady set after a long shift. Some smiling to each other, calling across the hammocks they'd raced to claim. Playing cards. Without a comparison from 48hrs ago it was impossible to tell, but Bella wondered if there was a noticeable change given the shooting of Private Yorkie yesterday. Were the men more subdued, or were they so used to the suddenness of death that they quickly fell back into their routine with little change.

She was mildly disturbed to note that while engaging in the same activities, the American and Jordanian troops were separated. Neither was engaging with the other, and no groups of integrated members could be seen. Was that new? Or had they been segregated for some time? Bella would add that to her list of secondary questions.

None of the men, from either country, were bothered by the heat. Admittedly they were in far less clothing than her, but they were clearly acclimatised and comfortable.

Bella was sweltering. She could feel the lining of her pants sticking to her thighs, wet with her perspiration. The end of her ponytail clung to the back of her neck, irritating the skin. While she had propped herself up in the shade of the building, it had done little to relieve the intensity of the climate.

Belatedly she chastised herself for not drinking enough throughout the day, but she hadn't wanted to disrupt the interviews with constant bathroom runs. Or, she admitted bitterly to herself, she didn't want to be the little girl constantly asking for more water while Black seemed to be doing just fine.

After twenty minutes Bella was ready to concede that she was feeling physically ill from the heat when she heard the rumble of an infantry carrier vehicle.

She watched with a hand over her forehead blocking out the glare as the grey monster churned over the earth, manoeuvring through the first then second perimeter gates before pulling up behind the line of trucks assembled near her.

It was two or three minutes before the ICV powered down and human movement detected as one of the doors cranked open. She could hear voices ricocheting off the inside as one figure jumped down from the side door. Not an inch of skin could be seen beneath the heavy uniform, pack, harness and helmet but Bella knew this would be the belated LO Cullen.

He moved with agility across the dirt road and begun to run toward the main building. Bella had thought she'd intercept him but he was moving far too quickly so instead she yelled out after him. "Cullen!"

The figure stopped and pivoted. He looked at her over before beginning another equally fast run to her. When he arrived he pulled off his helmet where underneath she recognised the face from eight months prior, albeit now with a light sunburn. He was sweatier too, his hair appearing almost black with moisture and clinging to his head.

He nodded his head in greeting, "Ms Swan. I'm sorry about all the confusion. I believe you've been waiting on me?"

"We have," said Bella, the fight and frustration having been burnt out of her by the sun.

Edward didn't appear to have lost any of his abilities to the heat, and spoke in quick fire. "I was out on patrol. I thought you would have been told that. I didn't realise. We turned back as soon as we received the message."

Bella sighed. "Its fine. It's been a confusing day for everyone. But we do need to interview you as soon as possible."

Edward nodded. "We can do it now."

"Don't you need to change? Eat? You've been out ten hours." Bella offered.

"No, its fine. I've kept you waiting. Now is good… if that suits you?" He asked.

They made it back inside the main building but the recycled air-conditioned air didn't help Bella's heat headache. They walked in silence beside one another, through the corridors back to the office allocated to the investigation. Edward opened the door for Bella and followed her in.

"Make yourself comfortable," Bella offered while she walked over to her end of the desk, collecting her papers and shovelling them back into folders and her case. She could hear Cullen stripping off his outer layer of clothing while she looked longingly at the empty water carafe. Cullen would need water too given his patrol and how long the interview would take. Plus she could get a message to someone to go find Black while she filled it. Bella picked up the plastic beaker and turned to go fill it outside when she caught sight of Cullen's shirt.

Clinging with deep patches of moisture to his chest and arms, there were a few patches distinctively darker than sweat. Blood, she realised as she felt the bile rise in her throat.

"You're injured," she croaked out, starting toward him.

Edward looked shocked her, before glancing swiftly down at his clothes. "No," he shook his head rapidly. "No not me. That was… Yorkie."

Bella gasped. "You didn't change after? After they took his body away?"

Edward looked up at her, frightened. "No. I reported to the base police and the CO and then… then it was time for my patrol shift. I was going to change but we were running late and one man down who was too upset and-"

Bella dropped the carafe, which clanked onto the floor as she brought her hands up to her throat.

"Bella? Are you ok?" Edward held both hands out in front of him as he approached her slowly, like a cornered animal.

She felt cold all over. Her voice sounded strange and detached as she choked out, "You're covered in his blood! His day old blood-" and then she hit to floor.

Thoughts?