The end of this chapter turned out differently than I planned, but I hope you guys like it. Thanks again for the reviews!

Chapter Fourteen "An Extended Stay in History"

Billy knew he was fidgeting, tapping his feet and pulling his hands in and out of his pockets. He knew it irritated Casey who was standing right next to him. But at the moment, everyone's focus was on the computer monitor where George was showing them what he'd discovered with the help of some U.S. intelligence agencies.

"As you can see from these satellite images," George's voice came over the speakers, "the kidnappers loaded Marina and Rick onto this cargo ship. I checked with the port, and the whole thing seems a bit dodgy. Best I can tell, it's headed for Dover."

"That's at least a six day journey," Harrington said. "Where are they now?"

"They've reached international waters," George replied. "An attack on the ship would be—risky for all involved."

"And the other option is waiting for them to arrive," Olivia said pensively. "Either way there are a lot of risks."

Billy was still frustrated with the perceived inaction of his colleagues, but he tried to make his next words as diplomatic as possible. "Are you seriously considering leaving Rick and Marina in the hands of terrorists for a week?"

"If we attack the ship, they could be dead before we reach them. If we wait, they'll be bringing them strait to us."

"If we wait, they may be dead anyway. Marina is injured. You think she can survive six days with no medical care?"

"Honestly? Yes. I don't think we have a choice. Any attempt on that ship would be too dangerous for the two of them and us."

Michael interjected. "They're probably using that ship for smuggling purposes. At this point, they don't know we're on to them. They don't know who Rick and Marina are, so they're probably safe for now. If we can catch them when they come to port, we may have a chance to stop them."

"I could be too late by then," Billy said.

George's voice crackled over the speakers again. "I've gained access to thermal imaging photos, and I'll be following the ship's movements. They're keeping Rick and Marina below, but I can barely make them out. So far, they seem to be okay."

"So far," Billy repeated.

"I hate to say it," Casey interjected, "but Martinez can handle himself. And Walters seems to be quite capable as well. We stand a better chance of getting them back alive if we wait."

There was no sympathy in Casey's voice, but Billy almost thought he saw some in his eyes. It could have been the light, but Billy would take it. He would believe Casey was worried about Rick too, because he knew it had happened before. And hopefully this wouldn't be the last time they all worried about their not-so-young-anymore Rick.

CHAOS

Someone left food when Rick and Marina were sleeping. They also left a flashlight and a pile of simple first aid supplies. That part didn't make much sense to Rick, but he wasn't going to complain. After so long in pitch black, the light was a welcome relief, but they conserved it. Their hosts might not be so generous as to provide extra batteries. The food was just energy bars and a plastic water bottle. They conserved that too, not knowing if they would get any more. Rick's stomach growled as he thought of how long it had been since he'd eaten. He couldn't remember.

It took some convincing to get Marina to let him look at her leg, but Rick was nothing if not persuasive. He had learned a lot of that from Billy, but the puppy dog eyes and endearing naivete were his own. Once he did see the state of her gunshot wound, Rick had cause to be concerned. It was bleeding through the stitches and a bit warm. Thankfully, there was some antiseptic left with the bandages. Rick had to hope that would be enough.

Marina cursed at him as he worked on re-bandaging her leg. After sleeping in a metal box, her patience had waned to nothing. Rick could understand. He'd been shot before, and there was nothing easy about it. He had tried to be a tough guy about it, but Marina seemed more to want him to leave her alone than offer any attempt at preserving her pride.

"Bloody hell, that hurts," Marina concluded when Rick had finished wrapping up her leg. There was blood on his hands, but he didn't waste their water cleaning them.

"That should last a while, though," he said.

"Thank you." Her voice was gruff, but the meaning was still clear. "If not for you, I'd probably die of an infection."

"Probably not. You're welcome, anyway."

"You seem to have some experience in this area."

"Experience getting shot, yes. I almost died on a mission in Bolivia. Billy held a tourniquet on my leg while Michael ran fifteen miles to get help."

"Billy doesn't like blood."

"I know. It surprises me he was able to do it, but he did seem very stressed throughout the whole thing."

"A friend getting shot will do that to anyone."

"Yeah, I guess so."

There was a long pause. Then Marina took a deep breath. "Rick?

"Hmm?"

"I think we both know where this is headed."

"What do you mean?"

"The food and medical supplies. They're keeping us alive for a reason."

"I was trying not to think about it."

"No matter what, I want you to promise me you won't talk."

"You don't even have to ask that."

"They have two hostages, Rick. They only need one."

"Don't think that way. Help is coming. We can hold out a little longer."

"You Americans don't listen very well." Marina shifted and grunted in pain. "They may try to motivate you by threatening me. If that happens, I want you to promise that you'll remember this mission is more important than one life."

Rick hesitated, taking a deep breath. "Marina, I'd give my life for my country. I'd never compromise a mission."

"We're all willing to give our lives. It's a lot harder to watch someone give theirs."

"Nothing will make me talk. If anything, I'd consider it disrespectful to your impressive fortitude."

Marina laughed and then hissed. "You've been around Billy too long."

"He does rub off—In a good way."

"Yes. Yes, in a good way."

CHAOS

Billy sipped tea. After so many years drinking coffee at the office, it was a strange sensation. Like relaxing in the middle of a hurricane. It was strong black tea with sugar, the same way he drank his coffee. It was still weird. They way being back here was weird. In every possible sense of the word.

Billy was starting to wonder if he knew which way was up anymore. Everything he thought he could count on seemed to be floating away, even the parts of himself he still trusted. He didn't know anything, and that was going to get them all in trouble.

He tried not to think about it. It would be easier to pretend nothing bothered him, to act like he was fine. Except Billy knew he was far beyond that now. Michael and Casey already knew he wasn't fine, and they might have been wishing they'd left him at home.

Billy almost wished he'd never come. He wished he'd never left in the first place. It was a selfish, cowardly thing, but if he hadn't gotten himself deported, things might have worked out okay. Olivia might have come home. They would have gotten back to their lives. Their empty, broken lives. They had already crossed some kind of line. Already on the path that got them where they were now. Being deported only sped up the process.

Billy didn't like to think there was something he couldn't fix, but when it came to Olivia, that seemed to be the case more often than not. Yet, he still couldn't let go. The last few days had proven that to him. There would never be any closure because it shouldn't have been this way. He should have been better. He should have been braver.

Olivia wanted him back. He could tell. Every word she spoke to him, every look told him she was still holding on too. But wanting something didn't make it happen. It didn't fix the problem of living an ocean away from each other or the decade they had been apart. Wanting to fix things didn't accomplish a bloody thing.

Billy tossed the paper cup into a nearby garbage can. It was down to cold, saturated leaf particles at the bottom. Tea was supposed to have a calming effect. It did not. Rick and Marina were still in the hands of terrorists, and Billy still couldn't figure out how to deal with the fact that he couldn't fix his relationship with his wife.

CHAOS

Casey disguised his desire to check into a hotel as another example of his general dislike for mankind. And no one really doubted he didn't want to stay with Olivia anymore. But he had other reasons. None that he would admit to, but Billy could tell, and he suspected Michael could as well. Still, the other two members of the ODS gathered their things from Olivia's—Billy's—house. Billy tried to tell himself it was just a matter of convenience, that there just wasn't enough space, and the couch was uncomfortable anyway.

He was able to keep on telling himself that until the door closed, Michael and Casey were gone, and he was standing in the living room, staring at Olivia who was staring back at him. They both knew this wasn't about convenience or personal space. It was about Billy and Olivia, alone in their home again.

This time, neither of them could walk away. They couldn't say they were tired, that they'd talk about it later. Because it was later—much, much later. Ten years was too long to wait for this conversation.

And neither Billy nor Olivia knew what to say.

As silence settled over the small house and faint rays of sunlight streamed through the front window, Olivia pulled the clip out of her hair. The dark, wavy mass fell over her shoulders. It wasn't an unconscious choice. When Olivia's hair was down, it meant she was vulnerable, trusting. She had no reason to be now, and Billy found himself afraid that he would betray whatever trust she had left in him.

"I called your mum."

It was the last thing he expected her to say, and it seemed so out of place. "Why?"

Olivia shrugged. "You haven't seen her in ten years either. The next few days will be a lot of waiting and watching. I thought she'd like to see you. She'll be here tomorrow afternoon."

Billy wasn't sure how to feel about that. His mother. He had thought of her so many times, but unlike Olivia, he'd written her letters and called on her birthday. It wasn't necessarily better, but different.

"Thank you," he said.

Olivia shrugged again. She was stalling. She wanted to talk about something else, but she was afraid to. That was what drove them apart in the first place, and Billy was just now seeing it. He had to do something, say anything, but nothing came to him. There were no words to open this long closed subject between them.

Billy moved closer to Olivia, knowing that proximity would only be more distracting, but unable to resist. He knew his words earlier had given her the wrong impression. He made her think he was resigned to their situation because he wanted her to think that. He wanted her to have closure, to give up on him. Yet, he knew he would never feel that way about her. There would be no closure and certainly no letting go. He couldn't expect that of her either.

"Your hair even smells the same," Billy said, as if their conversation that afternoon was still going on.

Olivia ran her hand absently along the tangles. Before he could think, Billy's hand reached out and took hers. His thumb brushed against the cool smoothness of her hair and his fingers wrapped around her fingers. They stood frozen there. It was the first time they had touched in ten years.

Olivia stared, wide-eyed, as if she had been expecting anything but this. It made sense that she would be prepared for all of Billy's words. She'd heard them all before. He'd given her no reason to suspect that he still wanted her though. He felt a pang of guilt at that thought. She deserved far more than the indifference he had attempted to show her.

There were still so many objections, so many obstacles. But standing there, looking into her wide, gray eyes, Billy could only think of all the time he had missed with her, and how much he wished he could have it back. How much he wished he could have her back.

Olivia inhaled sharply. "Did you mean it?" she asked. "When you said you wouldn't have taken the risk if you had something to lose?"

Billy could only nod, wondering where his voice had gone.

"But you did." Olivia looked up away from his face, trying to gain some composure. "You do." Her gaze returned to his, and she no longer tried to hide the glassy look in her eyes. "I missed you," she whispered, reaching out with her free hand to touch the side of his face.

Billy put his arm around Olivia's waist. Suddenly all the obstacles and objections faded from his mind. He knew he would have to face them at some point, but this seemed so much more important. The smell of her hair, the feel of her hands, the quirk in her lips when she got nervous. These things were important. Olivia was important.

And when he kissed her, Billy wasn't thinking about deportation or terrorists or Rick. If he had, he may have felt guilty. But he didn't.