Thank you to SallyJetson, notesofwimsey and lilymoonlight for their help with this chapter.

Chapter 20

Captain Griffin Coombes wore the look of a frustrated man. Used to having control of a hostage situation, he had been ordered, by Chief Sinclair no less, to defer to Mac Taylor from the Crime Lab. Now, instead of giving the orders, Coombes was left pacing up and down, waiting for Mac Taylor to finish a phone call so he could find out what the hell he was supposed to be doing.

The initial frantic activity outside the Flack's house had ceased, replaced with a tense, ordered calm. The other residents of the street had been evacuated and the Fire Department, EMTs and his own SWAT team were all in position ready for them to begin the negotiations but so far Mac Taylor had refused to initiate any contact and a redundant Coombes was feeling, as his son loved to say, 'as much use as a chocolate tea pot.' That thought bought a slight smile to his face and then a frown – his son was playing football today and he could have been there to see him play. Instead he was here, waiting for some crazy scientist to decide how to handle a delicate hostage negotiation.

'Captain Coombes.'

He turned to see Chief Sinclair striding towards him, accompanied by two men, both of whom Coombes recognised. He took a deep breath, trying to think of the right words to use, as he held out his hand and replaced the scowl of a moment before with a sombre expression that he hoped didn't look too funereal.

'Flack, good to see you.' He shook the hand of Don Flack, Snr and then turned to face Declan Maguire, shocked at how old and tired the man was looking. He held out his hand. 'Maguire - can't tell you how sorry I am about all of this.'

Declan Maguire barely met his eyes as he inclined his head and remained mute; Flack Snr glanced sharply at his friend, studying him for a moment, then turned back to meet Coombes curious gaze. He ghosted a smile. 'You all set up and ready to get this negotiation under way, Griffin?'

At the sight of Declan Maguire's distress Coombes felt the frustration he had barely been able to contain begin to boil over. He turned to Sinclair. 'Sir? You ready to give me the go ahead to do my job yet or are we still waiting for Taylor to extract his thumb from up his ass?'

Flack's gaze sharpened and he swung an accusing look at Sinclair. 'Brigham?' Even in his frustration Coombes heard a whole history in that one word, a history even more apparent as Sinclair's jaw tightened at the familiar use of his name.

'We're waiting for clarification of a few points before we start the negotiations.' Sinclair sounded strange, as if he was talking through clenched teeth and it took Coombes only a moment to realise that he sounded as if he was talking to a superior officer.

'Clarification?' Sinclair's explanation was cut short off as Maguire swung around, fury etched across his face. 'What the fuck do you need clarifying? She's got my wife in there…she's got my Maggie-' He swallowed, his face hardening, and now Coombes could see the man he'd always known; the tough, highly skilled, take no shit, detective. 'I don't care what you have to do, or who you have to do it too – just get Maggie out alive.' His meaning was clear as he glared at Sinclair.

'This isn't a typical hostage situation; Kate Robertson is a federal agent and…and…' Sinclair's voice trailed away and relief flared briefly in his eyes. Coombes turned to see Mac Taylor striding towards them.

'Taylor…what the fuck are you playing at?' Declan Maguire had switched his fear and frustration away from Sinclair onto a new target.

Coombes studied the man now joining their group. He hadn't had many dealings with the head of the Crime Lab before now, typically his science geeks turned up after Coombes had finished with a scene, but they had come across each other at seminars and the like and he certainly knew him by reputation. Standing in front of him now, his face grim, Coombes decided that he looked more Marine than scientist. Taylor didn't bother with pleasantries.

'We have some information that is going to impact on how we deal with this situation.' He met Coombes eyes. 'Kate Robertson is terminally ill with less than three months to live. We have reason to believe she has no intention of coming out of this alive.'

.

.

'That fucking bastard…you were right not to trust him.' Danny threw the car around another corner as he continued his rant about Jeff Hart. Flack made no effort to stop him or to join in. In truth Danny's words were washing over him, barely registering, as fear and anger and anticipation churned inside of him at the realisation that they may be only a few moments from finding Ellie. He reached for his gun again, checking, for the third time, that it was fully loaded; aware his hand was shaking as he tried to push away the images that crowded his mind; images he didn't want to see.

They rounded another corner into a quiet side street and Danny slowed down, his eyes looking left and right as he checked house numbers.

'Is this the road? What number?' Flack suddenly realised he hadn't even asked the most basic of details.

'3402. It'll be on the right…here.' Danny slammed the car to a halt outside a small, single story house. The grass in the front yard was in need of a cut and a number of beer cans littered the porch next to the battered chair that sat to the right of the front door. None of the neighbouring properties looked any tidier; the street as a whole had a faintly depressed, run down look about it. Somewhere nearby Flack could hear several dogs barking.

Heart thumping against his chest, he reached for the door to exit the SUV but Danny's hand stopped him.

'Hang on – we have company.'

Several dark coloured SUV's appeared, blocking the small side road to passing cars and pulling up onto the drive that was to the side of the house. Men in dark suits exited the vehicles; most headed towards the house but two came towards Danny and Flack, guns pointed straight at them.

'Get out of the car. Keep your hands where we can see them.'

The taller of the two men gave the commands.

'Don…stay calm. Don't lose it now…not when we are this close.' Danny's voice cut through the red mist that had descended. ' He jerked his head towards the house.' They're feds.'

Flack nodded, his body rigid, as he slowly left the car, his hands in clear sight. Despite the gun pointed at him he wasn't concerned, more frustrated; desperate to get inside the house. From the corner of his eye he could see one of the other men kicking the door in. He felt himself relax infinitesimally as he saw the Kevlar vest the man wore imprinted with the letters, 'FBI'.

'It's them.' The shorter of the two men spoke calmly and then both men lowered their guns and extracted badges from their pockets. 'Agent Torres and Agent Murphy, FBI. We're here to help.'

'Great.' Flack's only thought was to get inside the house and find Ellie. He moved quickly, intent on stepping around Agent Torres, but Torres placed himself between Flack and house.

'Detective Flack you need to give the team time to search the house. You don't have a Kevlar vest and are more likely to hinder than help at the moment-'

The red mist descended again. 'Get the fuck-'

'DON.' Danny moved so he too was between Flack and house. 'Think. He's right…let them do their jobs.'

The need to hit something or someone was overpowering. He span around, slamming his hand against the SUV, then slamming it down again and again; preferring the physical pain to the mental agony of not being able to do anything.

'DON.'

Danny's voice again. He looked up but Danny wasn't looking at him; instead he was looking at the Agents emerging from the house. One crossed the uncut grass to where they stood on the sidewalk.

'We've searched everywhere. House is empty but there are clothes missing and his gun cabinet is empty. I'd say Hart was running.'

.

.

'It was your mother who didn't show up to the meeting, not Maggie and Declan.' Stella spoke urgently, desperate to make Kate understand. 'They looked for you for years and the proof is in my bag – look for yourself.'

The look of concentrated fury on Kate's face made Stella wonder if her gamble had failed. Her gun filled hand raised and all Stella could do was wait for it to come crashing down on the side of her head. Her body tensed in anticipation of the pain that must surely follow, but, at the top of the arc, Kate's hand stilled and the fury was wiped from her face by a sudden and unexpected look of uncertainty.

Stella took a long shaky breath, trying to calm her racing heart.

'We waited for her…for Laura…for your mother. We waited for two hours. When she didn't show Declan went looking for her. We couldn't find her so we hired a private detective and kept looking. We wanted you with us; we wanted Ellie to have a sister.' Maggie was fighting back the tears, just as she had earlier when she first told Stella about their search.

'I don't believe you.' Kate's voice shook slightly, but the uncertainty on her face was now echoed in the her voice. Stella nodded towards her bag.

'Look in the bag. There's an envelope with the letter your mother sent and the reports from the private detective in it.'

Kate didn't look at Stella, instead her gaze was fixed on the bag, a strange look on her eyes. She hesitated for a moment then she slowly crossed the room, lay down the gun and extracted the envelope with shaking fingers. She had read only a few pages when she stopped, her eyes blank as she stared into space; her arm fell limply to her side and the letter and reports slipped from her grasp.

Stella waited, almost having to force herself to keep breathing in the stillness of the room, hoping that Maggie, who as she was sat with her back to Stella couldn't see the expression on Kate's face, would remain silent too.

'No.'

Kate stood up. The uncertainty of a few moments earlier was wiped away as she paced up and down, the gun now firmly back in her hand.

'Yes.' It was Maggie who spoke again, but now her voice was strong, no hint of tears. 'Yes. We wanted you with us. I don't know what happened between the 2nd January 1978 when the letter was pushed through the door and the 3rd of January when she asked us to meet her-'

'2nd January? 1978? You're certain about the date?' The rawness of the question halted Maggie for a moment. Kate moved around behind Stella to where she could see her aunts face.

'Yes…I was pregnant with Ellie-'

'That's the day my mother died.'