AN: Thanks for the lovely review SpadesJade. It makes my day that you're so invested in this little tale. Yes, Becky's plans are often conveluded and, with this one, her priority was not on catching the bad guy, but on saving Raylan. :) Just so y'all know, I never meant that I was going to stop the story, I was just going to prioritize other stories with more readers. (This story averages 11 a month) but then I had writers block on all but this one so I wrote a really quick update. :) And thanks to JustWhelmed for the beta work. And the motivation.

Disclaimer: I only own Becky and all of the bad guys. But I leave them in my Winchester protected closet so they can't get revenge on me.

Becky tensed in his arms, and Raylan heard a sharp intake of breath. Her voice, though, was perfectly calm. "Yavneh."

Raylan didn't need to be reminded. He didn't get out maneuvered very often and he remembered it when he did. He hadn't seen the gunman on the hill, but he recognized the voice.

"You son of a bitch," Raylan hissed through his teeth, taking careful aim, despite Becky's weight.

Peter Yavneh, a startlingly handsome, dark-haired, dark-eyed man, smiled. It wasn't a cold smile. It was actually quite warm. "Are you going to shoot me, Marshal Givens? In the basement of the house where you are currently attempting an undercover operation? Are you going to draw that attention to yourself?"

"It crossed my mind," Raylan retorted. He knew that was a dumb idea, but he was trying to buy himself enough time to think of something else.

Yavneh snorted. "I had the chance to kill you and I did not."

Raylan's legs were starting to cramp from holding his weighted crouch but he didn't shift. "Yeah, well, I'm not a psychopathic bastard who deserves it."

The smile returned and that warmth was creepy. "You are also not an idiot."

That was something debatable, but Raylan didn't say that. "Well, what do you suggest?" It was the strangest conversation he thought he'd ever had and, for Raylan, that was saying something.

Yavneh got very serious then. "You should trust me."

Raylan couldn't even begin to process that.

Apparently, neither could Becky. "What?" To Raylan's dismay, her voice sounded weaker. "Why?"

Yavneh shrugged. "I wish to help you. My reasons are my own."

Her voice gained a little strength in her anger. "You watched while Eschel tor-...You weren't so keen to help me earlier."

A shadow, almost like sorrow crossed his face. "I am sorry. I-I cannot go against Miri, but I can...subvert her."

It didn't make sense to Raylan, but he was holding the woman he loved in his arms and he only saw one chance to get her out alive. "All right," he said, lowering his gun to wrap his arm under Becky's legs. He stood, wincing at her hiss of pain. "All right," he repeated. "I've got a man coming. We need to get out back the way I came."

Yavneh shook his head. "Miss Brett is badly injured; she's lost a lot of blood. It's a rough trek down to your meeting place and a rougher one to the nearest hospital. She would never survive."

Raylan felt him stomach drop. "Then what do I do?"

Yanveh shrugged. "What you and I do best."

"You know that mean I'll have to kill people. Your people."

"Things change," was all the Israeli man said in response.

Raylan didn't even try to understand that one. If this guy was for real on his loyalty flip-flop, Raylan was never gonna think Boyd's change was weird again. "Let's go." He followed the other man through the house into a bedroom. It was a Spartan room; only a bed, a dresser, and a window inside. And a woman.

Helen Bennet didn't seem surprised to see the two men and the bloody woman enter the room. "Put her on the bed," she said calmly.

Raylan got his first good look at Becky since he'd found her. "Oh shit, Becky," he said, pushing her hair back from her face with a slightly shaking hand.

Her usual, beautiful marble complexion was an ashy gray, except the warm, purple bruises blossoming like perverted flowers on her skin. Her lips were cracked and bloody. He was afraid to look at her stomach but he made himself. He cursed, feeling a little sick at the sight of the deep, deliberately painful cuts he knew would scar.

"Hey," she said quietly, covering his hand. "I don't think I'm falling in love with you anymore." That made him meet her eyes and bloody smile. "I know that I am."

He let out a sound he couldn't really identify. "You have really bad timing."

She laughed and it turned into a moan. "Might be my only chance."

"No," he said firmly. "You won't die. I'm going to save you."

"Then go do it," she said with that same smile.

He nodded and gave her the backup gun he'd taken from the dead man. "Hold on," he said kissing her brow.

Becky watched him leave than turned her face to Helen. "When are you due?"

The other woman startled. "How did you know that?"

Becky snorted and regretted it. "It was easy. You have tan lines on your fingers from your usual rings. You aren't wearing them now. Why? You have cracker crumbs on your collar. You're sleeping in the spare room furthest from the kitchen and the smells of food. What causes nausea, swollen fingers, and doesn't give any other indication of ill health? Pregnancy." Rattling off her deductions tired her instead of energizing her. She had a feeling that was a bad sign.

Helen smiled. "It all does seem simple when you explain it."

Becky frowned. "Next time, you deduce a stranger's intimate secrets then... Do you really think that you and Yavneh are going to live happily ever after?"

Helen startled again, but this time didn't ask Becky about her thought process. "Why not? Peter loves me?"

"Because...he's evil," Becky said slowly, like talking to a child.

Helen crossed her arms petulantly, only increasing the comparison. "My whole life I've been surrounded by evil men. Peter is the first to give a damn about what happens to me."

"Lady, you have problems."

"You have no idea what my life has been like!" Helen snapped furiously before losing her fire and collapsing on the bed, head in her hands. Her voice was pleading when she next spoke. "I've hurt anyone. Don't I deserve some happiness?"

"Probably," Becky said, not unkindly. "But Yavneh doesn't."

Before Helen could reply, someone started banging on the door. "Helen!" Larkin called. "Open the door."

"I've got a headache, Mitch," Helen said, not moving to the door.

"I don't care if you've got the plague," he said. "That bitch detective got out of the basement and we're searching the house."

Helen gave Becky a scared look, but her voice was admirably restrained. "Well, she's not here."

Larkin decided that it was easier to just break the door down than argue any longer.

Becky cocked the gun, aiming the way her Uncle John taught her. "Come on," she mumbled, "come on."

The bang of the door was echoed by the bang of a gunshot. The guy Larkin got to actually open it was dead before he hit the ground.

He was also familiar. Helen made a move to go to her dead husband and her living brother jerked her up as a shield.

"Gonna shoot me now, Bitch?" He crowed, unable to resist looking over the top of his sister's head and smirking.

"Actually...yes." Being a perfectionist living with a man who qualified as a British Royal Marine had its advantages.

Helen screamed when the bullet whizzed past her, then screamed again when her brother's dead weight took her to the floor.

"Shut up," Becky hissed, gritting her teeth against the pain and climbing out of bed to check the hallway for more goons. She didn't see anyone, so she dropped to her knees to riffle Larkin's pockets for a phone.

She found the sent box. "Bugger!" A text to two numbers with Raylan's approximate location. And that he was alone.

"Damn you, Yavneh," she mumbled, understanding his plan. She could either help Raylan or keep Yavneh and Helen from escaping together. She wasn't often outwitted, in fact, she could count on one finger the amount of times it had happened before.

It was an easy choice, despite the damage it did to her pride. "Helen, I am going to give you fair warning. If Yavneh ever does anything to hurt anyone ever again, I will find out. And I will make it my mission in life to destroy you both. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Helen said in a scared, quiet voice.

"Excellent." Becky checked the gun, tore a strip from the sheets to press against her wounds, and left.

While Becky was having her problems, Raylan was shedding some blood of his own. He was being followed by Peter Yavneh through the house. Two men came down the staircase. Before he had time to signal, Yavneh threw a knife into one man's eye socket.

He died instantly and without a sound.

Raylan followed it up with two gunshots to the chest of the other man who died just as quickly.

"You are scary," Raylan said with a genuine mixture of appreciation and disgust.

"Moussad takes killing very seriously," Yavneh said just as seriously. "Keep going."

Raylan nodded and took three steps forward, looked behind him, and saw that Yavneh was gone, just melted into the shadows. "Shit."

No choice but to go on.

He came to a hallway. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he knew, deep down in his gut, that something was going to happen. When he got to the middle, he saw a door in front of him open and heard one open behind him. He didn't have to look to know that there was man with a gun aimed at his head. But something was keeping him from shooting. So, Raylan paid no attention to anything but the door in front of him.

Miri Eschel was a beautiful woman, but her eyes were dead. If Raylan had been a weaker man, he would have shivered. She was horrifying.

"Hello, Givens," she said with a smile as cold as her eyes.

Raylan raised his gun and the grin widened, revealing white teeth. It was a feral, dangerous thing that reminded him of Becky's in some twisted way.

"If you shoot me, then my friend will blow your head off, find Becky, and have some...fun with her in her final moments. If you turn to kill him, then I will shoot you and play with her myself."

Raylan only lowered his gun a fraction but he lowered. If he could get Eschel distracted, he could take them both out. "Why don't you just kill me now?"

Eschel shrugged. "Pleasure."

Raylan heard the crash coming from behind him and didn't think, didn't look, didn't do anything but react.

He regretted a little that Eschel's death hadn't lasted longer but then he was spinning on the balls of his feet into a crouch and aiming at the other gunman. Then he was shooting, hitting him in the heart twice.

The whole process took less than five seconds.

He looked over and saw Becky slumped against the wall, a vase shattered at her feet, eyes closed.

"Becky!" He was at her side in an instant. "Becky?" He cradled her body gently. "Talk to me."

"Sometimes," she said quietly, with the ghost of a smile. "My timing is impeccable." Then her head lolled back and her body went limp.