Sabrina followed Henry into his apartment, watching the way that he was still a little unsteady on his feet. She wondered just how much he'd been drinking. The journey to the apartment had been in silence; both of them caught up with their own demons. It was only now as the silence became uncomfortable that she realised it was time to lay their cards on the table.

"Hey!" Sabrina forced a smile onto her face as Missy bounded around at her feet, demanding attention; pleased to have company. She petted the dog and watched Henry as he took his usual seat. She noted the half-empty bottle and the whisky tumbler at his side but said nothing.

"You want to ask your questions?" Henry asked finally, reaching out for the bottle.

Sabrina opened her mouth to tell him that he'd had enough, but pulled up short.

"This isn't just going to go away," she began to tell him but he laughed at her words.

"You say that like it's news. I've had the same damn albatross around my neck for a long time now."

"I'm sorry."

Henry said nothing, simply staring into his glass; watching the golden liquid as it swirled it around. It was Sabrina who broke the silence.

"One of the reasons that Carl Douglas is so certain that his book is going to make his fortune is because he believes he can get his hands on a full cockpit recording from the flight."

She watched as the expression on Henry's face faltered.

"There's something on there that shouldn't be, isn't there?"

Henry didn't reply.

"You've got to level with me?" Sabrina protested but Henry cut her short.

"Do I? As far as I'm aware I don't have to do anything. In a few short months it won't matter to me one way or the other what was on that damn tape."

"Henry please..."

"There's nothing to say. Yes, I joined the army because it sounded better than prison. No, I'm not proud of what I did before I signed up, but that's the past."

"And I'm happy to leave it there, but there's something you're not telling me."

"Maybe there is. Maybe, just maybe it's none of your business."

"Henry, someone is trying to scare you out of speaking about the crash. That's true, isn't it? Someone is scared about something that you know. What is it?"

Henry's mouth was set in a narrow firm line. "That's none of your concern."

Sabrina tried to rein in her anger. She wasn't going to get anywhere if she antagonised him further.

"Please Henry. If I can understand what might be on that tape, then maybe we can finally get to the bottom of what's been going on." When Henry didn't reply she pushed on. "Why was Brandon Wood flying that night?"

Henry shook his head. "I don't know. I was ground crew. It wasn't down to me to organise the lives of the pilots."

"Henry...please. Your regular pilot reported as unfit to fly..."

"Gasperino rolled up drunk for his shift. Maybe he'd had bad news; lost money on a bet...I don't know."

"Was that something he'd done before?"

"Gasperino was a good man," Henry quickly leapt to the defence of his former colleague. "He was a damn good pilot. Won't have a single word spoken against him."

"So you don't know what made Gasperino take a drink that night?"

"Isn't that what I just said!"

Sabrina realised that she was going to get nowhere with that particular line of questioning and turned the matter back to the tape.

"Someone took the recording from the CVR. Someone took that recording and it's only now just come to light."

"So?"

"So someone's pretty convinced that it's incriminating. One of my colleagues was run off the road and nearly killed because she had it in her possession and someone made it plain that they were going to kill me if the copy we had wasn't handed over."

Henry looked as though he'd just had the breath knocked out of him. He sat back in the chair, his expression one of complete defeat.

"I'm sorry," he told her sincerely. He nodded in the direction of the bandages that still covered Sabrina's wrists. "This 'nothing' that you wouldn't tell me about. It was because of me?"

Sabrina nodded. "I didn't hear what was on the tape, but the people who were after it were prepared to go to great lengths to get it back."

Henry regarded her for a few moments and then let out a heavy sigh. "There are a few things I have to explain to you," he told her sadly. "And I very much doubt that you're going to like what you hear."

Falcone drummed his fingers impatiently on the table. Things were taking too long. Douglas had promised him a result, but he was taking too long. He glanced at the clock on the wall and swore beneath his breath. If there was no word from Douglas within the next hour then the deal was off and he'd have to demonstrate exactly what it was he did to people who let him down.

Sabrina pushed a hand through her hair and tried to reconcile the man in front of her with the image that she'd grown up with. He seemed a lot frailer in that moment, a lot less like a national hero and more like an aging man who perhaps only had a few more months left.

"You were a hero," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly.

Henry shook his head. "I carried out the safety checks and deliberately left the gauge with a fault on it."

Sabrina shook her head again. "No." She leant forward to cover his right hand with hers but he pulled away. "I don't believe that."

Henry regarded her for a moment and took in the wide brown eyes that were beseeching him, begging him to say that he was lying. He saw her belief in him and the things that he was supposed to have done and thought his heart would break.

"I'm sorry," he told her, pushing his chair back and rising to his feet, trying to put some distance between himself and her.

Sabrina watched him go, struggling to put her emotions into words. "You're sorry!" her voice shot up an octave. "People died. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"You weren't there. I don't expect someone like you to understand."

Sabrina was momentarily taken aback by the ferocity in Henry's voice; she'd never heard him sound that angry before. "They were your friends," she said breathlessly.

"Nobody was meant to get hurt." There was real anguish in his voice and Sabrina instinctively believed him.

"What happened?"

He shook his head, unwilling to say more.

"Henry please."

"I was in over my head. I needed money and I needed it fast. One bad bet followed another and I was in danger of losing everything... my wife, my kids, my job. There was only one way to get out of the hole, and that was to go along with the plan that one of the guys came up with. Every once in a while the base was used as a storage point for salvage picked up by the MPs or drug hauls seized by teams working overseas. Now that salvage was always well guarded and it was pretty much an open secret on the base just how much it was worth. The plan was simple; rig the plane and make it look as though it had to make a forced landing. When the plane touched down at the pre-arranged point, the waiting team would remove the cargo and make it look as though there had been a robbery. Any investigation would back up the fact that a fault had developed in the instruments, and that a forced landing was the only option." Henry broke off and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, dabbing at his eyes. "The flight detail was changed at the last minute. Wood took the plane up and was paid to ensure that Ward was looked after." He raised his head and for the first time made eye contact with Sabrina. "I have to live every day with the knowledge of what I did. Understand that the feelings of guilt have never left me ... never."

Sabrina found that she couldn't hold his gaze. She turned away; looking out of the window; trying to understand what she had just heard.

The sound of the phone shattered the silence that had fallen upon the room.

"I think I need some air," she told Henry quietly.

Henry said nothing and stared down at his hands. Sabrina regarded him for a few moments before turning on her heel and heading out of the apartment, the door slamming behind her, the sound of the telephone still ringing impatiently in the hallway.

She punched at the call button for the elevator and tapped her right foot impatiently, waiting for the car to arrive. Her mind was racing with the information that Henry had told her. She was struggling to reconcile the man she'd grown up thinking of as a hero with the broken man sitting in the apartment behind her.

The doors in front of her slid open quietly and she stepped into the elevator. She knew that Henry wasn't going to go anywhere; it just wasn't his style. She knew she had to call the others and tell them what Henry had just told her, but first she needed some air.

She pushed open the front door to the building and stepped out into the baking hot parking lot, the warm still air, hitting her full in the face.

She closed her eyes and rubbed at them as though she could in some way remove the things that she had just witnessed. She dropped her hands suddenly as a nagging voice in her mind told her that something was wrong. She turned around, realising that she'd not heard the front door slam shut behind her the way that it usually did. She was somewhat surprised to see Carl Douglas standing there, one hand on the door.

"What do you want?" she snapped.

"I need to talk to you about Sullivan."

"Now is not the time," she warned him; in no mood to listen to anything the man had to say. She straightened up in surprise as he pulled a revolver from his jacket pocket. "Is that supposed to impress me?" She allowed a half smile to cross her face. "That's really not your style."

She was a little unnerved by the way his expression changed. He wasn't confident handling the gun, but it was obvious that he felt that he was in charge of the situation. She gestured towards the revolver that he grasped awkwardly in his hands. "You want to put that away before you hurt yourself?"

"You and I need to have a little talk about Henry Sullivan," Carl ignored Sabrina's words. "We can do it here, or we can go somewhere a little more private." He paused. "But one way or the other we are going to talk." He gestured with the gun. "Move."

Sabrina stood her ground. "I don't have time for this Mr Douglas..."

"Then make time."

She took a step towards him. "I'm going back up to Henry's apartment; you're not going to stop me, and I'm not going to call the cops. There's no need for this to get this heavy."

Carl shook his head. "I gave you the chance to do this the easy way."

"What..."

She heard the crunch of footsteps on gravel a split second before hands closed tightly around her arms. She opened her mouth to cry out but one hand was quickly moved to smother her cries, the other arm adjusting to wrap tightly around her. She fought against blind panic as her mind flashed back to that night in the apartment.

"I did give you the option," Carl told her flatly as he moved past her to open up the rear door of his car. "Put her in the back."

Sabrina continued to struggle, but the man holding her had little difficulty in forcing her into the back seat of the car before getting in after her. She reached across for the door handle, but a hand closed quickly over her arm and pulled her into place.

"Tony, take this. She tries anything stupid and you have my permission to use it."

Sabrina's eyes flashed angrily at Carl's words. "What the hell are you doing?"

Carl handed the revolver to his friend and then twisted the key in the ignition. "No-one is going to bury this story about Sullivan. You wanted to play at being Sullivan's niece then you can take everything that comes with that."

"You don't know what you're..."

"Tony. She speaks again and you can do whatever the hell it takes to shut her up."

Sabrina glanced out of the corner of her eye at the tall dark-haired man who was sat next to her. He grinned at her and tightened the hold he had on her arm, jabbing the gun into her side.

"There," Carl told her after a few moments. "Now play nice or Tony here might decide to break something."