Thanks for the reviews and encouragement from the last chapter, guys! I really appreciated it, although maybe it doesn't seem like it, because it took me so long to update. But I'm really trying to improve, I feel as though this story still isn't at the quality I want it to be.

Nevertheless, I'll persevere. Still working out some plot details, but I have a definite idea for the climax and its location.

Anyways, please enjoy!

(Save an author, leave a review :)

Chapter Twenty-One

Sam vs. the Long Road

Sam stumbled over a rock.

The gun jammed against her back, and the gangster walking right behind her growled, "Keep moving."

Sam only uttered a small sound of complaint before righting herself. The sun bore down on them as they trekked back to the road. An hour of this and the road had appeared, appearing out of the golden haze like a rippling black ribbon. The cars, seven in total, gleamed like their own suns under the cloudless sky. Sleek vehicles in dark tones, there was something menacing in their low forms and angular shapes. It vaguely reminded her of the mountain lions that lived in Montana — silent, sleek, and by the time you noticed them, it was too late.

To think they had been so close to the road. Had they kept walking that previous night, she and Alex would've surely discovered it eventually.

But now they were held at gunpoint, being marched to what was certainly their doom.

At least there would be air-conditioning inside the car.

Sam was momentarily distracted by this pleasing thought; if there was one good thing to come from being captured by the Triad, it was finally getting out of the sun. She briefly considered sharing this thought with Alex, but had the distinct feeling he wouldn't appreciate in the same way she did.

The march had been made in utter silence. Alex and Sam didn't share a single word the entire time — the threat of guns pointed at their spines, along with the handcuffs around their wrists, seemed to imply that any activity of the sort would be met with severe disapproval. Yet, as they approached the cars, Sam couldn't help but glance at Alex. He returned the look but remained quiet; they both understood that if they got inside those cars, they would probably never make it out again.

But what else could they do? Sam and Alex were completely outnumbered. There were ten escorting them, and that wasn't counting the Triad drivers still in their cars. Sam couldn't think of a situation where either of them got out of this in once piece with these odds.

What was the best course of action here? Was there one at all?

Sam was considering the idea of not doing anything at all, at least in regards to pissing off the Triad, but apparently, Alex had other ideas. When one of the gangsters stepped forward to open the backdoor to one of the cars, shoving the two of them forward, Alex apparently had enough.

He tried digging in his heels, resisting the grip around the scruff of his neck. But that only resulted in him falling, and the grunt just snarled, hefting Alex up again. Alex writhed against the grip, trying to push away from the grunt with his hands, still bound. The grunt struggled with containing him — it lasted only a second before the grunt brought up the butt of his pistol, and backhanded Alex across the face. The boy dropped once more, clutching his head. Sam was frozen, gaping at the sight, before someone pushed her head down and shoved her into the back of the car.

Her shoulder banged against the door on the other side, her knee skinning against the rough floor of the car. It was so dark in here that at first Sam couldn't see a thing. When her eyes adjusted, she picked up on the tinted windows, which made it much darker than it should've been. The seats were soft leather, and there was the distinct smell of nicotine. There was ash scattered across the floor. Apparently the Dragon liked to smoke.

Alex was thrown in next to her, and she winced at the sight of blood from his brow. He seemed a little dazed, moving sluggishly against the seat. Sam had no idea why he had fought; the only thing he achieved was further injury to himself.

She opened her mouth to speak, but didn't get the chance when a third person joined them inside the car.

The Bearded Dragon.

The back of the car had opposing seats, like a limo, and the Bearded Dragon settled himself opposite of the two teens. As the door slammed shut behind him, the Bearded Dragon eyed them while chewing on a toothpick. He didn't speak until the engine started.

"I'm surprised you haven't thanked me yet, Rider," he said, raising his eyebrows at Alex, who just scowled in return.

"And why the hell would I do that?"

"Because if it wasn't for me, you'd still be out there," the Dragon replied. The car started to move, and Sam might have been inclined to look outside and watch the travel, but her eyes were transfixed on the Bearded Dragon. His arm was in a sling, rather haphazard bandaging around his shoulder from where Alex had shot him. It didn't look to be a professional job. Sam noticed that the Dragon was still sweating despite the cool interior (she was right about the air-conditioning), and there was a strange pallor to his skin. "How lucky you missed one of the trackers on your car. You should be thanking me. If it we hadn't saved you, you would've likely died out here!"

He almost had a point, but Sam wasn't going to say that. In fact, the Bearded Dragon intimidated — for obvious reasons. She recalled being held at gunpoint with absolute clarity, and was highly aware of the pistol lying casually in the Bearded Dragon's lap. His uninjured hand was resting on top of it, his finger only an inch away from the trigger. It would only take a second for him to kill the both of them.

"Saved me?" Alex snorted. "I thought you were trying to kill me. For an assassin, you're not very good at your job."

"Ha! You jest," The Dragon laughed, wagging the gun up and down at Alex. "But yes, I could've killed you back there. But where is the fun in that? The Triad specifically wants your head, Alex, and I intend to fulfill that request. Only a proper beheading is appropriate in this condition. You've brought great shame to my brothers, and I'm afraid that's a slight you won't survive."

"You've told me this before," Alex said, and the car kicked beneath them as the driver switched gears. They were going much faster now, over the speed limit, something only afforded by the flat and empty road. Alex settled in his seat, seeming far too relaxed than Sam felt was warranted for the situation. He seemed very familiar with this situation, in fact appeared quite bored with the whole matter. "Anything new you'd like to share with the class?"

"They told me you were a smart-ass," The Dragon replied, likewise unsurprised by this behavior. He tilted his head, inquisitive. "Is it also true what they say, that you are without fear?"

Something flickered across Alex's face, before he shrugged. "Maybe."

"Really?" The Dragon leaned in, squinting at Alex with his dark eyes.

Alex didn't react, even when the gangster got right up into his face, raising the pistol, pressing the muzzle right between the boy's eyes. "Even when I do this?"

Alex didn't say anything. Sam sat next to him, every muscle in her body rigid, watching the Dragon studied him, pushed Alex's head back with the gun.

He flicked finger, released the safety. "Or this? I don't my brothers would mind if your head came side order of lead."

Alex didn't break eye contact with the Dragon. Didn't even blink. Sam forgot how to breathe.

Seconds passed, where the only thing that moved was the car around them. Sam was terrified the wrong jostle might jerk the Dragon's trigger finger on accident, but didn't move herself in case the same thing happened. The Dragon's eyes were fixated on Alex's face, searching for something she couldn't fathom.

Then he pulled back, dropping the gun with a smile. "Well, well. I underestimated you, Rider. I've seen eyes like your before, but rarely on anyone so young. Did you know there's a distinct look in someone's face, after they've killed someone? I can spot it anywhere, and where else do I find it but in yours? I guess the rumors are true, after all."

Alex didn't say anything, but something in his eyes darkened at that, a muscle in his jaw twitching. Sam glanced between the two of them, wondering what the Dragon was talking about. Was he saying that Alex had killed someone?

Sam looked at Alex again, and had to admit, she didn't see what the Dragon saw. Perhaps it was a learned thing.

When it became clear that Alex wasn't going to respond to that statement, the Dragon sat back, smirking like he won the argument. He just shook his head, saying, "Do you think I want to be here, Alex?" again, no response. The Dragon threw Alex a skeptical look, throwing up a hand. "You think I want to be running around this goddamn wasteland for one dumbass kid and his — who the hell even are you?" he snapped, directing this last question at Sam. "Huh? What, you got nothing to say, you bug-eyed freak? Stop staring at me like that."

Sam jolted in surprise, not expecting the Dragon to pay her any mind. When he continued to glare at her, she realized he was still waiting for an answer, and finally said, "It's going to get infected."

"What?" he demanded.

"Your shoulder," she made a small gesture with her finger. "It's going to get infected if you seek proper medical care."

"Oh, really?" the Dragon sneered, in what may have been sarcasm (but Sam wasn't sure). He held up his arms, pointed out the window, to the ever-unchanging desert outside. "And do you see anyplace that I could get this medical care? You wouldn't happen to know of any doctors that live in the middle of fucking nowhere?"

Realizing that she made a mistake, Sam hunched up her shoulders, retreating further into her seat. She could feel Alex staring at her, although she was too intimidated to look away from the Dragon at the moment. "I'm just saying. You'll only make it worse."

"Well, great, thanks for the advice," The Dragon said, rolling his eyes. "I'll be sure to remember that when I take your head, too, along with your boyfriend's here —"

Both Alex and Sam vocalized their protest to this last idea, but both were interrupted when, at the same time, the driver called from up front. "Uh, boss? There's a chopper."

The Dragon blinked. Looked over his shoulder. "A what?"

"A chopper. A black one, on the right — look!" the driver pointed, and all three heads peered out the window. "It looks like its coming right for us."

The observation was not an inaccurate one. The helicopter, which was indeed black, was less than a hundred meters off the ground, and the thwack-thwack of its blades were impossible to ignore. The Dragon scowled, pulled back and said in Mandarin, "Radio the others! I want to know who called aerial back-up that I didn't ask for!"

The driver's seat was filled with radio chatter, but all seemed confused, slowly growing panicked. "No one ordered it, sir! We can't make contact!"

"Well, get rid of it! It's flying too low —"

"What did they say?" Alex hissed at Sam, leaning in so they wouldn't be overheard by the argument between the Bearded Dragon and his cronies.

"The helicopter isn't with them," Sam replied, her eyes flicking back out the window. "They don't know who it is."

Alex and Sam exchanged looks as the helicopter continued to drift closer. If it wasn't the Triad, then who could it be?

That's when the helicopter pivoted, facing the cars broadside, and opened fire.

Bullets landed right in front of the car, hitting the hood and forcing the driver to a sudden stop. There was a simultaneous cry of surprise as the passengers were thrown from their seats (seatbelts being neglected), then again when they were rear-ended by the escort sedan directly behind them.

Sam's shoulder took the brunt of the fall as she ended up on the other seat, next to the Dragon. He was spluttering, having knocked his head against the back window, and seemed a bit dazed. The car had come to a complete stop, and the sound of gunfire continued outside. The other Triad had left their vehicles to return fire, and were now in a firefight between a helicopter, now circling somewhere above.

"Sam, come on!" Alex had already recovered, throwing his weight into his door. It seemed to be stuck, but Sam noticed he had somehow managed to get rid of his handcuffs.

The Dragon groaned, clutching his head. When he opened his eyes, he stared at Sam for a moment, before reaching his gun.

Sam was a bit faster. She swung her leg around, kicked him in his shoulder, directly over the wound. The Dragon howled, dropping the gun immediately, and gave Sam enough time to scramble away.

At the same time, the door finally gave way to Alex's weight, and the two of them toppled out to the hot tarmac below. Sam got roadrash on her hands and knees in the attempt to break her fall.

"Are you okay?" Alex had to shout over the noise. A loud bang somewhere to the right had both flinching.

"Fine!" Sam said, although her shoulder was starting to ache from all the falls she took today. Pressing her back against the car for better cover, she looked up to see the helicopter pass by overhead. Even from here she could see the machine gun mounted to its side, and what appeared to be a broad male manning it, firing off with surprising accuracy at the Triad. "Who are they?"

"Give me your hands!" Alex said, appearing not to have heard her. Without waiting for a response, he took her wrists, a key in his hands.

"Where did you get that?" Sam asked as he unlocked the cuffs. They fell away and she rubbed her wrists, marveling.

"Nicked it off the big one after I fell," Alex replied with a half-grin, as he tucked away the key. "Now come on!"

Without a pause for breath, Alex took Sam by the arm and pulled her up, already on his feet. They ducked as bullets went off over their heads, the Triad scattered all around them. They ran from the Dragon's car to the one behind, nearly tripping over the body of a fallen gangster.

Whatever was going on, the Triad definitely weren't prepared for it. They were scattered around, trying to issue commands, but without their leader they were at a serious disadvantage. Sam was just doing her best not to get shot; they took cover behind the second car, ducking down just as a hail of bullets went over their head. Sam had no idea who it was that shot at them, but she had a good feeling it was one of the gangsters.

Looking up, she tracked the helicopter's path as it swung around again, angling itself so the gangsters were forced to look into the sun. Their shots went wide, while the machine gun hit its targets — that is, the engines and tires of the vehicles on the ground, herding the gangsters into easier-to-manage larger groups.

There were no markings on the helicopter that Sam could make out. She could hardly say what the make of it was, either, she knew nothing about that, but she doubted it could be a civilian craft. "Who are they? Military?"

"I don't know," Alex had a hand over his head, squinting through the bright sunlight. Blood had dried on his face. "I don't know where they came from, or how they even found us out of here — or if they're here for us at all…"

Things got decidedly more interesting when people started dropping out of the helicopter.

Sam looked up when she saw a flash of light, and watched as a coil of rope dropped out the open side of the helicopter, followed by one - two - three people zipping down to the earth below. Each in brown camouflage and bulletproof vests, two with guns.

"Alex!" Sam called as a warning, but when she looked around, she was startled to find the spot next to her was completely empty. She shot up a little, head switching back and forth in confusion. What? Where had he gone?

But Alex had effectively disappeared to God-Knows-Where, and Sam was suddenly alone when the Dragon's car exploded.

She hit the dirt, covering her head as hot metal debris rained down. The air was filled with more gunshots and cries as men fell. Sam had no idea who had been hit, but decided that wasn't important. She'd rather try her luck in the wild than stay here in the fight, utterly defenceless.

Only a quick glance before she was in a crouch again. A gangster had just flipped over the hood with a cry. He landed just a few feet away from Sam. She jumped back, but had nowhere to go because of the car at her back. The gangster already had his gun in hand, aimed at her.

Sam flinched just before he pulled the trigger.

The window behind her shattered when the bullet missed — inches from her shoulder. Sam blinked, just barely catching the sight of the black shadow that appeared, the boot that kicked the gangster's hand — changing the path of the bullet at the last second.

Two gunshots, and the gangster's head fell back. His body went limp. Sam's eyes finally drew to her would-be savior.

She didn't expect to recognize the black hair and square jaw.

Daniel Shaw?

"W-what are you doing…here?" Sam shook her head, sure she was dreaming. Shaw looked so different in fatigues and wielding an assault rifle, and yet so comfortable at the same time. The way he had just shot the gangster had been so quick, almost casual in execution. There was no denying that he was trained in the way he handled himself, but none of this made sense. Why was he here? How did he know?

Shaw, perhaps sensing Sam's rising panic, was already approaching her, hands raised and muzzle down. "Sam, Sam, it's fine, it's just me, I'm with the CIA, we're here to —"

Shaw didn't get the chance to finish his sentence before Sam punched him in the face.

Granted, Sam hadn't meant to, but as soon as she heard the phrase 'CIA', she thought instantly of Alex's warning the other day. Thus, she reacted on instinct, delivering a blow that Shaw certainly hadn't expected from someone he was apparently trying to save.

"Ow!" Shaw recoiled, rubbing his jaw. The punch barely shook him, although there was a mark on his cheek where her ring had cut him. He stepped back, just out of striking range. "Jesus, Sam, relax! I'm not here to —"

The sound of screeching brakes behind interrupted him. Sam whirled around to see one of the Triad's black cars come to a stop on the road a few feet away. It was unharmed, perhaps one of the ones in the back of the escort line. Shaw reacted immediately, bringing up his gun just as the door opened, prepared to fire in case more hostile emerged from the vehicle.

But he paused when instead of Triad, the head of a blond boy popped out the door. "Sam, get in!"

She didn't need to be told twice.

Shaw hesitated for too long. Sam surged past him, ducking past Shaw and the front end of the truck. The time it took to drop his gun again, to free a hand in order to snatch at Sam, she had already slipped away. His fingers only caught the end of her sleeve, which she easily shrugged off. "Shit! Sam, wait!"

Sam threw herself into the door of Alex's commandeered vehicle, tucked in her legs just as he hit the gas pedal. The door shut automatically, thrown by the force of acceleration. Sam was nearly flattened in her seat as they took off.

Alex jerked the wheel, and they skidded past the rest of the fire fight and destruction — and the two other agents from the helicopter. A blonde woman and another man.

The two turned just in time for Sam to see their faces as the car passed.

Sam's heart dropped into her stomach when she recognized them, too.

Sarah Walker and Chuck Bartowski.

Their shocked faces flashed by. Sam's eyes flicked up to watch them grow smaller in the rear view mirror. Alex didn't seem to notice them at all, his gaze on the road, hand on the gearshift.

The engine roared as they picked up speed. The wide-open road stretched out before them, danger left in the dust.

But Sam didn't feel safe.

Not when her cousin worked for the CIA.