Wanna know the worse thing about jury duty? (I wasn't chosen and requests for my services are safe for the next 3 years, woot!) You are not allowed to bring liquids into the courthouse and the pop machine – *gasp* – only had diet Pepsi!

"Your phone again? Natalie lifted her head from Jason's shoulder, reached for more popcorn. It had buzzed since the movie started. He'd checked it every time, but hadn't answered it once or returned any texts. Between that and so many people being in and out of the theatre room in the last thirty minutes, she'd completely lost the ability to follow the movie.

"Ray." Jason sighed, reached for the level on the side of his recliner-for-two, lowered the foot rest, pushed the blanket off his lap. "Wonder who did what now. Or Sonny's slurping jello shots outta someone's belly button again." He nudged and juggled her off his lap.

"Jason." Natalie scolded, moved so he could get up. "That is definitely not acceptable behavior."

"Or maybe he's just bustin' heads. I'll take care of it." He handed her his beer, stood up. "Be right back."

"That's not acceptable either!" She called after him, curled up in the chair with the bowl of popcorn, pulled the blanket over her legs. "Sorry!" She told the room, felt bad she'd spoken so loudly. Silence greeted her, no one said anything. She uncurled, went up on her toes in the chair, looked around. The room was dim, not dark and for the first time since the movie started, she realized she and Jason were completely alone in the room. "The hell?" She got up to follow him. "Wait for me!"

Jason headed for the kitchen, the call had dropped and he waited for his return call to Ray to connect. He found it odd the house was quiet, ablaze with light and the few people he saw, seemed to be searching in and under the furniture for something.

He poured himself a cup of black coffee, took a sip and the call to Ray connected. "What's up?" He reached for cubes of Colby jack cheese from a platter on the counter. "Fight? Unwanted attention? I gotta knock some heads together?"

"Hey Jay."

"Where are you? Hell, where's everyone? Thought there was a party going on."

"You still watching the movie?"

"Was, yeah, left Nat to step out, take your call."

"Yeah, say, uh Jay, Clay with you?"

Jason froze, sighed, gulped the contents of his mug, reached for the whole pot. "What'd he do?" That kid had given him nothing but attitude and grief all day.

"Went missing." Ray waited, said nothing more.

Jason drank a third cup of coffee. He didn't need it to sober up, he'd cut back on drinking when Clay had arrived and he began to doubt the wisdom of entrusting him to Vic, but the warmth felt good and it gave him something to do while he processed what he was hearing.

"Where are you? Where's everyone?"

"Searching. I'm at the lake."

Clay had responded to his text that he wasn't feeling good and hadn't wanted to come. Jason had ended up calling him and ordering him here. He'd arrived and Jason hadn't even bothered to ask him how he'd gotten there. His order had been obeyed and that had been all he'd been concerned with. He'd tasked Vic with keeping an eye on the kid and assumed everything was fine dandy.

He. Would. Never. Learn.

"You see his car?"

"No."

"Did he drive here?"

"Don't know."

"Who does?"

"He came alone, Rebecca wasn't with him."

"I know that!" Jason snapped. "Someone had to see him arrive." He reasoned. "Find that person. And Ray? Bring me Vic, I'm in the kitchen."

"Yeah," Ray slanted Vic a look who refused to meet his eye. "He's right here. On our way." He pocketed the phone. "Something you want to tell me on our way to face your boss?"

"Uh, no."

"Might wanna rethink that. He hates it when we lose Clay."

Vic stumbled a bit. "When you….you've...wait...what do you mean? Lose Clay? HEY!"

But Ray pulled his phone, sent a text, whistled, made the round up motion with his hand over his head. His phone chirped and he answered.

"Son, got a job for you, find who was greeting people as they arrived, take them to the kitchen, Jason's waiting."

()

Sonny finally located the blonde who had greeted Clay when he'd arrived and rang the doorbell – Pam.
Metal got testy when Sonny's questioning crossed over into an interrogation.
She thought maybe someone had dropped him off in a red car. Or minivan. Maybe an SUV. It was definitely red. Or black. She really didn't think it was white.
Sonny's language was not acceptable for children.
Pam teared up.
Ray had to break Sonny and Metal apart.
Brock was lit up because he hadn't brought Cerberus.
Vic very nearly lost his teeth when he couldn't say when he'd last seen Clay.
Trent manned the laptop, reported Clay's GPS signal showed he was home at his apartment.
Everyone vowed the 'blonde menace' wouldn't sit comfortably for a week over leaving his watch home.
Trent typed some more, opened another screen, did a search, came up with nothing.

"YOU HAD ONE JOB!" Jason slapped the counter. "Watch him! Keep an eye on him. How hard is that?"

Vic was quiet, stood with his head down, took the verbal lashing.

"I'm telling you, if he drove here, we need to call the police, because in his condition, he drove someone off the road." Someone had the balls to venture, brought the wrath of Bravo One down on their head.

"Who the hell are you? Did I ask you? Shut up!" Jason cleared the counter of everything but the cheese. That he handed to Natalie. "Jesus Fucking Christ! It's a god-damn house party! How the hell can we not find him?"

The room went quiet.

"The hell Vic? I gave you an order! Don't let him out of your sight! What the hell do you think that means?" Jason ranted. "Means, you don't take your fucking eyes off him!"

"You were serious about that?" Vic asked incredulously. "Really? We're not at work..."

Both Ray and Brock stepped between Vic and Jason, halted their boss's advancement before he could wring Vic's neck.

Pam, now scared sober by the ranting bull in her kitchen, stepped behind Metal for protection. She didn't recall Clay asking her for someplace to lie down, but she had let him into the house, had seen the car that had dropped him off.

"OH!" She exclaimed, jumped up and down, clapped her hands. "It was a red, four door SUV. A man with shaggy hair was driving."

"Shaggy hair?"

"Who would drive him all the way out here?"

"Cab? Uber? Lyft?"

"This far? Doubtful."

Trent looked thoughtful, mentally sorted through the friends and acquaintances he knew Clay would call for help or a favor, frowned. He pulled his phone, made a call.

"Randy? Hey, sorry to bother you this time of night, I need help hacking. Need some information."

Ray raised his brows, stared at Jason who drank coffee. Since when had their medic become adept at hacking?

"Right….uh-uh…yep…there…right click, you say? Just want to check a name…..got it…thanks dude, catch ya at work Monday." He thumbed end, set the phone down. "Ash Spenser owns a maroon Dodge Durango."

"Clay's old man?" Sonny guffawed. "Drive him out here? Not buying it."

"He musta really felt like hell, call his dad for a ride." Brock commented, met Jason's stare, stood his ground. "What? Just sayin'"

"Call him!" Jason growled. "Find out." He slammed his mug onto the counter, pulled his phone. "Gimme his number, I'll call." Natalie swooped over his shoulder, swept the phone out of his hand. "Hey, don't..." He grappled for it back. "You don't get..."

"I got it." Ray said calmly, waved his boss off. They'd learn nothing if Jason attacked Ash on the phone. The man had his son's attitude, he'd just taunt them and hang up. "Trent, got his number?"

Trent did, read it out loud. It entered the contact list of more than one phone.

"Hello?" Ash answered his cell even though the number came up as unknown. His annoyance over driving Clay to the party had disappeared on the way. His son was obviously ill and once he'd seen him safely inside the house, had driven to his buddy's house where he intended to spend the night just in case he was needed. Maybe the kid would need a ride home or maybe he'd end up in a hospital. Ha, wouldn't that just stick up the high and mighty Hayes' ass! Ash was Clay's father, he'd have the legal say so at the hospital this time, not that prick Clay called boss.

Ash kinda hoped that was what the phone call was about. See Hayes throw him out of the hospital or deny him entry now.

"Hey Ash, Ray Perry here."

So, not Jason Hayes.

"What do you want?"

"Where you at?"

"Over near Roanoke. Too late to drive back home tonight."

"So, you did drive Clay here?"

"Checking up on him? Don't believe him?"

"Having a hard time believing you'd to it for him."

"Wow." Ash drawled sarcastically. "Asshole."

Ray sucked in a breath, supposed he had that coming. "Just wanted to make sure he didn't drive here. So, thanks for that, won't have to worry he put someone in a ditch."

"His car's kinda hard to miss, don't ya think?"

"So, yeah, thanks for driving him." Ray hung up. "He's not with Ash."

"You didn't ask." Naima pointed out.

"Didn't need to."

"You didn't tell him his son was missing either." She teased.

"You really want the man here?"

"He wouldn't come." Sonny pounced.

"Yeah, I think he would." Janine offered a smile, ducked the dish towel he playfully snapped at her. "What? Ash pass up an opportunity to piss you all off? Don't think so."

"Still doesn't solve the problem." Brock took milk from the fridge, added a splash to his coffee. "Where is he? He doesn't have a car, so where did he go?"

Kitchen became the command center.
Trent manned the computer.
Ray coordinated.
Jason commanded.
Everyone else resumed the search.

"Maybe he called a cab, went to a nearby hotel." Natalie suggested.

Immediately, Jason dismissed the suggestion with a barked no.

"Don't take my head off." She reprimanded, seeing a side of Jason she knew existed but hadn't experienced yet for herself. If he was this tense and serious merely over a missing teammate at a house party, she could imagine what he was like in the field, on a job, with danger and uncertainty all around. If one of his men had been taken in hostile territory by an enemy, she now knew, without a doubt, he would ruthlessly kill to get him back. "If he wasn't feeling well, he could have…" She began patiently, mentally kicked aside the rumors and stories everyone had delighted in regaling her with when they'd learned she was dating him.

"Ma'am, with all respect due the boss's lady," Sonny paused. "We don't leave without telling someone. We can't do that."

"Oh now Sonny, I'm sure he meant….."

"Not in our line of work Nat." Jason explained. "Not when we're together, not even if we're home."

"Right." She nodded. Leaving without telling your teammates would prompt them to do exactly what they were doing; do everything they could to find you. And if spun up and on a job, it meant life or death.

"He told someone."

"Who? We've questioned everyone."

"Can't believe he doesn't have his phone. Or watch."

"Bet he's wearing his tags."

"He ain't, he's going to wish he was. Oatmeal for a month."

"Fat lot of good that does us."

"Will, if he's found by someone or arrested."

"Arrested? More like taken to a hospital."

"Should we call the police?"

"What do we do?" Natalie asked, more to reign in the growing outlandish conversation and suggestions taking place, than to get a serious answer.

"Kill Vic." Sonny threatened darkly.

"And after that?" Natalie smiled sweetly. "Look, he can't be far. I don't understand the panic…"

"He was medicated." Jason said shortly, like that explained everything. And it did, to everyone except Natalie.

"I don't have the history with him you all do." She crossed her arms. "So, start explaining."

Jason waved her off, turned his back. He'd deal with her later. Natalie, beginning to understand the urge to want to strangle someone, remained calm. She was learning how to handle Jason Hayes...but Master Chief Bravo One? Well, now, that was going to take some work.

"You better hope we find him soon." He told Vic. "We don't, for every hour he's missing, you're treading water for a day, seven miles off the shore."

"And if he ain't okay, you can swim back, we ain't coming to get you." Brock headed out the back door.

"Wow." Naima smirked at Vic who flipped her off. "You managed to piss off Brock. Congratulations, not easily done."

Jason ordered everyone back out to search, sent Natalie off with Naima, Katie and Janine to search the house, gave permission for the other ladies to tell her what she wanted to know.

"Oh no, see they've 'lost' him so many times, Blackburn had to ask for funding for advanced military grade tracking..."

"He went out for beer once….."

"...Jason had to go get him from a corrupt prison warden."

"Fell into a snow covered ravine..."

"...Jason and Sonny had to drag him out of a frozen stream, keep him warm all night."

"There was the time he went out for a night on the town..."

"...Jason had to dig him out of a collapsed building."

"He and his girlfriend went away for the weekend..."

"...Jason had to find an orange cat and a black one."

"Oh but...but...Oh! The sultan!"

"...Jason had to go into a harem..." and the three burst into laughter, leaving Natalie to trail after them.

()

Paula returned home from her errand of buying chicken noodle soup and cold medication to find her house turned inside out. People darted and ran in and out of the house. Hell, she nearly ran two over and one dumb ass actually ran into her trunk! Doors remained open. Every outdoor like was on. The cover was off the pool and two men were dragging the water with poles. Flashlights bobbed among the cars. Locks chirped, doors and trunks opened and closed. Distant shouts came from the direction of the lake.

"Pam?" Paula entered the kitchen, set her bags on the counter. "Want to tell me what's going on?"

"Oh Paula!" Pam sobbed, threw herself into her old sister's arms who gave her a hug and patted her back. "It's the saddest thing! We lost Clay!"

Paula stopped patting, pulled back slightly. "What did you say?" She asked sharply. Good Lord! Had the poor man gone and died while she was out getting him soup?! She hadn't thought he was that sick! "PAM!?"

"Metal's teammate is missing!"

Paula blinked, slapped her sister. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough to render her tears dry. Now that she thought about it, an ambulance would be here. At least, she would have passed one leaving on her way back to the house. And the police. Maybe the coroner, or the medical examiner.

And hell, she hadn't been gone that long.

"You slapped me!" Pam said in a small voice, palm against her check. "You. Slapped. Me. I can't believe you just did that!"

"For Pete's sake Pam, the man asked you for a place to lie down!" Paula snapped, rolled her eyes. She hadn't even left a red mark on her sister's cheek. "I told you to let Metal know that I'd taken care of it." She knew better, but she'd done it anyway. She'd meant to find Metal herself, but when she'd returned with juice for Clay, he'd been groggy and disoriented and when she'd offered him something to eat, he'd asked for hot soup.

"What?" Pam turned to look at Metal, the slap forgotten, as if she had no idea who he was. "When?"

Paula dug deep for patience. She loved her sister, she did, but there were times she could cheerfully shake the woman until her teeth rattled. Pam was in fact an intelligent, well-educated woman, but once she consumed enough alcohol to become intoxicated, she was worthless. Hence Paula always remaining sober at parties like these.

Though, Paula acknowledged, she really had no right to criticize. She became the same way when she drank, which is why the sisters had a pact to always have someone remain sober at a house party. But then she looked at Metal and seethed.

"This is your party Pam, you're responsible for your guests." Paula pointed out, searched for a soup spoon. Having only party food in the house, not a can of soup had been found, so she'd taken herself off to a nearby diner to get some hot, homemade chicken noodle soup. "But you?" She addressed Metal. "What's your excuse? These are your teammates."

"He did!" Pam exclaimed. "You're right! He did! Metal, you told him to ask me!"

"Don't think I did."

"No, you did." Said one of his pool-playing buddies. "Couple times."

Sonny's fist shot out, clipped Metal on the chin. He retaliated, thumped Sonny in the gut.

"KNOCK IT OFF!" Jason ordered. Christ, he was going to knock heads together. Jesus Christ! "Who are you? You know where is he? Tell me, 'cause he's not in this house. We've torn it apart."

"Really Metal? You been drinking that raw absinthe ole man Cooter brews up there in those backwoods?" Paula whopped him with the same towel Sonny had playfully snapped at Janine. "You promised to stick to beer tonight."

"Where have you been?" Pam asked suddenly. "You're supposed to be here, keeping an eye on things." She pulled a pout. "This is all your fault!"

"I have been." Paula returned calmly. "I've been taking care of Metal's teammate. You know, the one who is 'missing'?" She made air quotes. "It didn't occur to you, where one of your guests, would go to lie down?" She paused, thought back. "Hell, I even told you were I was taking him."

"We checked the bed….." Metal went silent, paled, flushed, ducked his head. "Oh."

"Oh? That's it? Just oh?" Jason stalked him until he stumbled backwards into a wall. "What does that mean, Metal? Oh. Define oh."

"I didn't remember..." Metal scratched his jaw. "Forgot he asked...hell boss!"

"We have a wing that is for family only." Paula collected a bowel, cup of cold orange juice, bowl of ice, the bag of soup, the bag she'd brought from the drugstore. "Guess you forgot, huh Metal?"

"I just said I did!"

"Where?" Sonny demanded, hands on hips. "We searched this house. Every room."

"Hey now, wasn't my job to babysit him." Metal protested, pointed a finger directly at Vic. "It was his."

"Jesus, how big is this house." Vic muttered. "Wait…what? Babysit? Oh, come on now! We're at a party."

"Not an excuse." Jason said pointedly.

"Knew there had to be a reason the kid doesn't like you."

"Go sober up." Paula scolded Metal. "Your first thought should have been your room." She shook her head. "Missing. Lost. I'm surrounded by idiots."

"HEY!" Both Pam and Metal exclaimed.

"You. Are. Never. Drinking. Absinthe. Again." Jason told Metal, slapped him upside the back of his head. "That's like, what, 100 percent proof? Not even Sonny drinks that shit."

"I'm in my own home, boss." Metal's jaw clenched.

"And you protect this country, God help us. This way." Paula led the way across the kitchen, through a door, up three steps, into a butler's pantry and through another door. "Light's dim, watch your step."

Her parents owned the cabin and when they had decided to build an addition, they had done so as if it were a separate house. The only inside access was through a narrow, steep staircase accessible only through a closet off the kitchen. It was designed to remain hidden and unless you knew where it was, you wouldn't notice it.

"Trent." Jason beckoned, stilled everyone else with a palm up. "Ray?"

"Right, on it." Ray nodded; call off the search, round everyone up, send people home, he could do that. "Just, I'll wait 'til you text me you have eyes on him."

"Roger that."

"Hi, I'm Paula." She said as she climbed the dark, narrow staircase, followed by a perky brunette, the man called Trent and the man who gave orders with every expectation of being obeyed - and was. "Metal's sister-in-law."

"Janine." She poked Trent. "Married to this one." Trent grunted. "Trent," she supplied. "He's Bravo's medic."

"Bravo, eh?" She opened a door at the top of the stairs. "So, you would be?"

"Jason." He said shortly. "This is a fucked-up staircase."

"So, team leader, right? Boss?" He didn't respond to her teasing, so she let it go. "When you were searching the grounds, no one happened to notice the 2nd entrance to another house?" Paula grinned. "It was a wing added on after the original house was completed."

"It was dark." Jason muttered. He hadn't gone outside to search, but if Brock hadn't found it, it wasn't easily located. No, not fair to Brock. He was looking for his missing teammate, not mentally calculating square footage of a mountain mansion he'd never been to before.

"Wow, your powers of observation leave a lot to be desired, considering your job and all." Paula teased. "It's a vacation home. We often host parties and large groups of people we don't know well. But honestly, the outside entrance is designed to look like it is simply a rear entrance to the main house. Here," she stopped in front of a partially closed door. "Clay? Hey, you awake? Brought you soup." She paused, looked again at the bed. "Clay?" The blanket and afghan were in a heap on the bed, but there was no sign of Clay.

Jason felt his belly clench. Not again. Please God, this little joke of yours is getting old. Please, not another chapter of this already over-trodden book. If Clay had left the bedroom, there was no easy way to find him. They hadn't brought the dog. His phone was either off or dead. He wasn't wearing his watch.

"Wow." Janine looked around the room. "That's a real fireplace. I love it."

"Metal likes a cold bedroom." Paula explained. "So, he sleeps with the window open and Pam sleeps by the fire. The heat is turned off."

Useless information, Jason mused. Metal slept in mud. What did anyone care?

"Oh Trent, we have to try this."

Trent blew her off. "Ain't putting no damn wood stove in our bedroom." But he was teasing and she wasn't offended, gave him a kick in the ass. He slapped up and down the mound of blankets, searching for something solid underneath.

"Dumb ass, that's not a wood stove." She pointed down the hallway. "That door, right?" Paula nodded. "Sonny's gonna wanna come up here."

"Mmpphhff," went the mound.

"He'll listen to Ray." Trent went around the bed, took two handfuls of blankets, lifted them high. There he was! "Spense, you're gonna give me an ulcer."

"I'm gonna kill him." Jason stated, arms crossed over his chest in a defensive stance. "Can I kill him?"

"Hey," Janine patted his bicep. "He wasn't taken or kidnapped. No one is trying to buy him, steal him or keep him. He wasn't blown up, shot, stabbed, frozen, drowned, carried away in a mudslide, buried in a collapsed building or lost in the snow." She headed to the door. "And you didn't need GPS technology not available on the market or a highly trained dog to find him this time." With a jaunty salute, she left the room.

"Dunno why you put up with her." Jason groused.

Trent just grinned.

Paula blinked, managed to pull her mouth closed, look away. Well, that was quite the list indeed. She didn't know the details of Metal's job. She knew he was in the Navy and by conversations and references, she knew he was what was called 'special ops'. She didn't know exactly what that meant, but Google was her friend; elite, Tier One, tactical, special unit. He was on a team and these three men in the bedroom were his teammates.

No. Doubt. About. It.

She frowned as Trent roughly and without care, manhandled the man on the bed. He shook, smacked, slapped, pushed and pulled without thought. She had kids. Granted, it had been awhile since they'd been little kids, but even so, as adults, when they came home and were sick, she treated them gently, tenderly and with care.

But not these men.

Jason blew his breath out. He was going to have to get together with Blackburn, come up with yet another way to track this kid. It was time to start taking the talks of implanting a GPS chip in the little shit's arm seriously. How much did something like that cost anyway? Six figures? Seven?

"Mmppffhh."

Clay, alerted to the fact he was no longer alone by the absence of his warm blankets, was just blinking his eyes into awareness when he was grabbed by an ankle and an elbow on either side and with a smooth, timed, coordinated move, flipped, rolled and put flat onto his back. What would have been a yelp, had his chest not been congested, was instead a muffled groan.

"Wake up." Trent, the medic she recalled, ordered. He grabbed Clay's chin, gave his head a shake, tapped the back of his hand against a sweaty, red cheek. "Jesus Jace." He huffed. "Really?"

"Really what?" Jason shot back. "You got something to say? Spit it out."

"The hell is he doing here?" Trent smacked the other cheek.

Paula recoiled. Had that action had any more force behind it, it would have been a back-handed slap that would have likely left a bruise. Probably knock a woman off her feet.

"Feels hot." Jason commented, placed a hand on Clay's shoulder, told him to stay still.

"Fevers do that."

"How high?"

"High enough."

"He said he had a cold. Didn't say anything about a fever."

"Not a cold Jay."

"Flu?"

"Not with that cough." Trent mused. "Or maybe. He's wheezing."

"W't?" Clay stirred, shifted his weight onto his back, pushed at the hand holding him still. "Dn't."

"Who you talking to?" Jason gave him a smart slap atop his head. "Wake up."

"Feel achy? Muscles hurt?" Trent felt his palmed his forehead, slid fingertips behind his ears, along his jaw, down his neck, over this throat. "What'd you drink today?"

Clay merely looked up, licked his lips, flinched. He missed the warmth of the blankets and Trent's hands were cold.

"Hey, nun-nuh, you don't get to ignore me."

"Go 'way."

Now that he was awake and talking, he had to cough, couldn't stop.

"Sit up."