A/N What's this? Another chapter? Why yes, yes it is. You mean we don't have to wait three weeks for this one? No, no you do not. Yay! I'm so happy! Yes, yes you should be.

Miles was claustrophobic. He'd never told anyone, and usually it wasn't enough to bother him, but sometimes he just felt uncomfortable in tight spaces. Like right now, with a bag over his head blocking out all the light. Everything was black, and he could feel a rope tightening around his neck, pulling the bag closer to his face to the point where he could feel his own breath on his face. And the most unsettling of all was that he didn't know where he was going. With each step he felt sure that he would trip over some unseen object and fall on his face, unable to catch himself with his hands bound the way they were. He felt helpless, and he didn't like it.

When the bag was ripped off his head and he finally saw light again, he was relieved. Then he noticed where he was, and all of his worries came back. President Foster's office. He'd been in this room several times before, many years ago of course, but never as a prisoner and certainly never when there was so much at stake. The President herself was seated behind the desk, facing the window. She turned around slowly.

The minute she saw Miles something changed in her eyes, but just barely. Most people wouldn't have noticed it, but then again he wasn't most people. "You," she said in that cold voice of hers. She sounded almost completely devoid of emotion, a talent she developed soon after taking office. It was something that leaders had to do, detach themselves from the situation. At least, they had to pretend to. "What are you doing here, General Matheson? I have a bounty on your head, and yet my soldiers say they found you just outside my headquarters."

"I'm not a general any more," he answered. "I haven't been for quite some time."

"Oh, is that supposed to make me feel better?" Foster pulled out a knife and pressed it against Miles's throat. To the left he heard muffled voices. When he glanced over he saw Charlie, Nora, and the rest of their little group were in the room as well, still being restrained by Georgian soldiers. "Tell me why you're here, Matheson!" the president demanded.

"Please, just listen to what we have to say," he begged, "It's very important! I know you have every right to hate me, but you have to believe me. I'm so sorry for what I did to you and-" He was interrupted by a slap across the face. He stared back at Foster in shock. Normally she was so composed, he could barely comprehend what had just happened.

"You murdered my husband. My son. My daughter. My children were so young and you just…" Her voice shook in an effort to hold back her tears. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you where you stand."

Miles took a deep breath. "Believe me, I wouldn't have risked showing my face in Atlanta if it weren't important. We came here for a reason, to help you fight Monroe. We can beat him."

"I seriously doubt that."

"But it's true!" Someone shouted from the other side of the room. They turned and saw Rachel had managed to convince the soldiers to let her go, and was now quickly approaching them. "We can help you defeat the militia before they take over, we have an advantage."

"And what exactly is that?" Foster asked. Rachel and Miles shared a quick glance, and she reached in to her pocket as best as she could with her hands being bound. When she pulled them back up, she was holding two pendants.

"These," she said, and pressed the button to activate them. Immediately the lights came on in the office, a fan began to turn, Miles could even here music playing from somewhere. He stole a glance over at Charlie, who was staring at everything in wonder. Sometimes it was hard for him to remember how completely unfamiliar she was with the concept of electricity, and how odd it must be for her to be seeing things that were basically fairy tales to her come to life.

Foster looked around at all the electronic devices which were functioning perfectly for the first time in fifteen years. Her eyebrows shot up, but she showed no other sign of emotion. Still, Miles knew that was enough to mean she was impressed, and she wanted those pendants for herself. But she was a very cautious person. She certainly wasn't going to just give them her complete trust because they had a power source.

Foster walked over and took the pendants from Rachel, and the power switched off. She studied them intently for a few moments, then looked back up. "I'll need some time to consider your offer," she said, then nodded to the soldiers. "Take them to a holding cell."

The soldiers grabbed them by their arms and started to drag them towards the door. Charlie began to panic. She didn't want to go to a prison, they didn't have time for this! "Wait!" she shouted, and struggled against the guard until she had broken free of his grip. "Please, we don't have time for all of this! The militia is probably on its way to Atlanta right now, we have to act quickly."

"I agree, the militia is a threat," Foster said. By this point all the soldiers had stopped, and everyone had their eyes on Charlie and the president. "But I just can't afford to make any mistakes right now. We're in a bad enough situation as it is, I don't need spies infiltrating our forces to make things worse."

"We're not spies!" Charlie insisted. "Believe me, I want General Monroe to die, so I'm definitely not working with him."

"You can say that all you want, but you've still given me no reason to trust any of you."

Charlie sighed and looked down, trying to think of something to say. Surely, there must be something they could do that would win the president's trust, but what? How could she possible convince this woman that she only had good intentions? She placed a hand over her stomach, and felt her baby give a little kick. Suddenly, she knew what she had to do. She had to tell Foster the truth.

"It was General Monroe who got me pregnant," she said in a small voice, but it was just loud enough for everyone to hear. Foster narrowed her eyes, and Charlie continued. "He kidnapped me months ago. He… raped me. He was trying to have an heir, someone who could become the next general of the republic after his eventual death." Charlie paused, and looked around at everyone's expressions. She locked eyes with Miles, and then continued to speak.

"Miles helped me escape, and since then Monroe has been trying to find me. He will stop at nothing to get me back, to get the baby back. That's why we came to Georgia in the first place. I needed to get away from him, to a place he could never go, so I could keep my baby safe." She stopped and took a deep breath. "But I guess I was wrong, because now he's so close and I'm afraid that he invaded Georgia just so he could find me. I am so, so sorry for that."

A small tear slipped down Charlie's cheek. "It's because of Monroe that my father and brother are dead, too. He gave the order that killed both of them, and I…. I hate him for it. I was with both of them when they died, and as I knelt over their bodies I promised myself that I would kill Sebastian Monroe for all that he has done to me and my family."

Foster seemed to be considering everything that she was saying, so Charlie took a step forward. She looked the president right in the eye and continued, "I don't want to let anyone else get hurt because of that man, and that is exactly why you have to believe us. Because if you don't let us help you, he will take over Georgia and then no one will be able to stop him."

For a moment, no one spoke. Charlie held her breath for what seemed like ages while Foster gathered her thoughts. After an agonizing few minutes, she finally spoke up. "All right," she said, "I believe you." Charlie smiled, and the tension in the room immediately seemed to dissipate. Foster looked back at the others and asked, "So, how do you plan on using these pendants to our advantage?"

"I can build some amplifiers," Rachel explained. "They should increase the range of the pendants to half a mile."

"So we can use them to power more advanced weapons," Foster concluded. Rachel nodded her head.

"Exactly. I'll need several materials to build the amplifiers, but I'm sure you can find them without too much difficulty. And… it could take some time."

"How long?"

"Without seeing the materials I have to work with it's impossible to tell. It could be two weeks, it could be two months. I just can't be sure at the moment."

Foster shook her head. "Things aren't going well on the front lines. We might be able to hold off the militia for a few weeks, but I'm not positive we could last that long. I'm afraid you may have come too late to help."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Miles said. "I know General Monroe, and I know how he thinks. If you let me lead your armies, I know I can turn the tide. I can at least buy us enough time for Rachel to finish working on the amplifiers."

President Foster narrowed her eyes at Miles' suggestion. He knew she would probably say no, considering all their history. Still, he held out hope that she would relent. Surely she had to know that what he was saying was true. "All right," she finally said, and looked over everyone in the room. "When do you want to get started?"