Thanks for the lovely reviews!
Please see disclaimers in Ch. 1.
By the time Will woke up he could hear tiny wails floating from the other end of the small space he was imprisoned in. Oliver was pacing, trying to quiet the little girl, but to no avail.
"She's been like this for a while," the younger man said, handing her off. "I've checked her diaper, I've tried wrapping her in something to keep her warm—though there's not much for that, I'll grant…"
The tiny wails grew louder.
"She's probably hungry," said Will, realizing it had been a long time since any of them had eaten. "And we've got nothing…"
"We do," said Oliver, showing him the tray that had been lowered. "But I'm still trying to figure out how to get the milk into her at this point."
Will looked at the contents of the tray, which Oliver had left largely untouched. He spied the thin dishcloth and bent down to pick it up. Looking over the cloth carefully, he then tipped his head towards the container of milk. "Open that," he said, sitting back down onto the hard concrete and settling Olivia into a semi-upright position.
"Will, I'm not seeing it…how are…?"
"Watch," the Cajun said, picking up the cloth and dipping a corner of it into the milk. Once it was saturated, Will then carefully placed a tiny portion of the sodden cloth into Olivia's mouth, which she began to nurse from. As soon as the milk was sucked out of the cloth, Will repeated the process.
"I'll be damned," Oliver said, watching as the baby was fed. "I have to say, I never thought of that."
"Had relatives that raised goats, towards the bayous," Will explained. "Once in a while there'd be a little one who'd lost its mother, and this was how they fed them. I figured it had to be what these people here were thinking."
"To be honest, that's what puzzles me," Oliver said. He settled down nearby on the concrete, watching as Olivia ate. "Seeing as there's obviously someone who's all too eager to take her away from you, why would they put her down here in the first place? I mean, they could have easily just snatched her away…"
"Not the way I had her. You'd have had to kill me first, and I'm more than willing to go that route."
"Then that's not the answer," Oliver reasoned. "They want us both alive, for something…"
"Like you said, leverage. What better way to make JJ and the others leave the estate than by using us?"
"I dunno," Oliver replied.
"How so? It's the only thing right now that makes sense…"
"If it were just about getting the team off the estate, they wouldn't have needed me," the younger man said. "In fact, they could have just finished me right there on the grounds."
"But they didn't."
"Yeah. Which tells me that whatever this is, it's not just about them. It's about all of us…"
Oliver rose again, his headache having subsided but his stomach still growling. He wrapped his arms around his bare frame, shivering slightly from the cold.
"You're freezing," Will said, noticing the slight chatter in his friend's teeth.
"I'll live."
"You'll catch cold."
"Hasn't killed me yet."
"It might."
Oliver looked around. There was nothing to wrap himself in—at least, nothing of any usable size. "Well, I'll have to live," he said finally. "I'm just not seeing anything I can use, and you're nowhere near my size, even as thin as I am…"
Will had to admit that. Though neither he nor Oliver were terribly overweight, Oliver was built a lot more solidly than the Cajun was. He had thought of giving Oliver his thin overshirt, but soon realized that the younger man could barely fit his forearm through one of the sleeves.
"God, I could use some water," Will said, heaving a small sigh.
"Now there, you're in luck," said Oliver. He walked over to the large concrete trough and dipped his hand in. "It's full to the brim."
"But there's nothing to put it in…"
Oliver cupped his hands and took a drink. He then picked up the small steel bowl and filled it, bringing it over to where Will sat with Olivia.
"Thanks," the older man said, draining the bowl. On his lap, the baby began to cough a little. Will picked her up and began to pat her back.
"So, they've given us water, just enough food to keep us from falling over, and milk and cloths for the baby," Will mused. "Sounds to me like these people plan to keep us awhile…"
Oliver nodded, his mind elsewhere.
"What is it?"
"That thing I keep missing," the younger man admitted.
"What thing?"
"About a month ago, before we got to the estate, Kyle was looking into some odd calls. He said they all traced back to someplace in Maryland, Lincoln…something. I've been racking my brain for a month now, trying to figure out what that is, because I could swear I've heard of a place like that before…"
"You think it's important?"
"Considering what I know now, it has to be."
Will looked puzzled. "What do we know now?"
"Like I said, this bit here isn't about just getting the team off the estate grounds. I'm willing to bet it's a big part of it, but it's not the end-all."
"End-all?"
"Something my dad used to say. Means it's not the whole reason we're here…"
"Mmm."
Oliver began to pace, his mind now cluttered with thoughts on what the whole thing—the false accusations, the charges, Adlington, everything—was all about. His mind kept coming back to one thing…
"Silver Spring," he said finally, after several minutes. The comment was so random that Will took notice.
"What about it?"
"That place…I'd remember it forever," Oliver said. "It was a huge place, in Silver Spring…"
"What 'place'?" asked Will, now thoroughly confused.
"There was this place, just outside Silver Spring, an old government think tank of military installation that went under. These people, they used it as their base of operations…"
"People? Oliver, I'm not following…"
"The diplomats. It's about the diplomats…no. Not entirely." Oliver could see the image, as if it were yesterday—the sight of the aircraft, being surrounded by agents; Sarah's hand pressing against the small window; the sight of her on that gurney, encased in black…
And then the sight of the other bed—the one carrying out that man…
"Damn it!" Oliver shouted. "That's it—it has to be, there's no other way it works…"
"What?"
Oliver looked at Will, determination firing through his eyes. "Retribution. Against all of us. This isn't about ambition or justice or even the truth. It's about retribution…"
