Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! ...If you wanted to stop reading at the last chapter until I get back, that's fine, because I can't guarantee I'll have a better stopping place up before I leave. The plan, however, is to post up to 76 or 77 before we head out of town. So then we'll be at a better stopping point and it'll just be the winding down of the details... fluff and smut and a tiny bit of angst... but like I said, I can't promise anything. :)

If you do read on, Enjoy!

Chapter Seventy Four:

It wasn't easy, but I left Gil and Sara to comfort each other, straightening my shoulders again my own disbelieving grief, forcing myself to deal with this new set of circumstances. I swallowed, lifted my chin, and moved into the main living area of our home, spying my mother at the table. Our eyes locked, and in a minute we had an understanding—she knew that I knew the truth, and she looked afraid. …A glance at the wary cops around us had me thinking that this would be better to take place outside. I moved to her, about to have her come talk with me in the driveway, when the phone rang again.

In an instant, the room was a flurry of activity and Gil and Sara reappeared, a bag of green beans still held to Gil's face. I felt a surge of guilt that I had necessitated that, but there wasn't time to dwell on it—I was given the signal, and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Jace Wendt." It was not a question but a statement. I cleared my throat.

"Yes."

ppft! click. "You are surrounded by policemen." Another statement. I swallowed.

"I am."

"…Then I'll make this short. If you check your mailbox, there will be an unmarked envelope with directions to the place where you'll leave the money. …You will come alone—without the wife, without the police, without the scientist—and you will see your daughter alive. Bring anyone with you, and she's dead before you even get close…" ppft! click.

The noise. God, why did I recognize the noise? Sara and Gil had mentioned it, but they couldn't place it either…

"I… Let me talk to her. Prove that she's still alive."

ppft! click! "Very well…"

There was a muffled sound against the phone and then everything sounded clearer… undistinguished. And then I heard my baby—my darling Ayla's whimpers and the sound of the phone being pressed to her ear. "Ayla, honey?"

She whimpered again. "…Dada?" Her breathing picked up and then she was wailing. "Dada!" Her sobs became harder to hear as the phone was moved away from her and the muffled sound returned, before he spoke again.

ppft! click. "Come alone." The line went dead.

I hung up weakly and turned to look at Sara. In a moment she had pulled from Gil and moved to me, hugging me tightly. "…I heard her." I hear myself say, though I don't remember deciding to speak.

"Was she okay…?"

"She sounded so scared."

She squeezed me tighter and I reciprocated, drawing comfort from her—even if she didn't love me anymore, she was still the most important person in my world, other than Ayla. Just her presence made me feel hopeful…

"…Should someone go get the instructions?" A rookie cop asked, breaking the silence.

I sighed, pulling back from Sara's embrace, about to say I would… when Gil spoke up. "No. …We need some sort of plan. We're not sending Jace anywhere, alone, with ten million in cash and this guy's word that he'll give him Ayla peacefully."

I shook my head. "I… I don't think we should mess around with this, Gil. Ayla—"

"Ayla isn't going to be any better off if you get killed and she's left beside your body with no one around for miles… We can't tiptoe around this guy and we can't let him make us that vulnerable. Someone else has to go with you, either following or in the car with you, to make sure that he honors his half of the deal, at the very least. A better case scenario would be to have a police presence so that once Ayla is safe, they can move in on him… we need a swat team."

I looked in frustration to Sara—"…We're risking Ayla's life."

She looked torn, glancing between us, and squeezed my hand after a long moment. "…We're risking her life and yours by letting you go alone." She looked up at me and shook her head. "I don't want Ayla to grow up without you, Jace. …Let's find a way to do this without risking either of you."

I frowned and closed my eyes, but finally nodded. "…Okay. We'll… we'll think of something. I, uh… I'm gonna go get the envelope… at least give us an idea of where we're planning around."

I pulled away from the group and the dozens of eyes focused on me and moved outside, breathing too fast, trying to stave off a panic attack. I was afraid that doing this would cause us to lose Ayla. …If he knew that Gil was here, he knew more than we were giving him credit for. Was he watching the house… bugging the phone lines, what?

I stepped out and closed the door behind me, surprised to see my mother sitting on the steps up to the front door. I frowned, ready to move past her without a word, when she broke the silence. "…I'm sorry I wasn't a better mother, Jace."

I stopped, glancing at her, uncertain whether to believe her or not. I moved down to the mailbox and pulled out the single envelope—there was no writing, no postage, and no DNA—the flap had been tucked, not licked. I opened it and pulled out a plain piece of paper, glancing at the address. I knew enough to know that it was in the warehouse district, but not much else.

Ppft!

My head snapped up—my mother was sitting on the steps, lighting a cigarette. She pulled the Zippo lighter away and let the metal cover fall closed. Click! In one dizzying moment, I knew exactly what had happened… I knew who had my little girl.

"…So, we have a deal then?" I asked, pacing his office. The man listened and eyed me, his left hand laying unmoving on his desk, the picture of calm, his right agitated, always in movement—he kept opening a square, metal cigarette lighter, running his thumb over the thumb-wheel to ignite it, and then snapping it closed. It was like a nervous habit. The repetition of the sound was like a drum beat, marking the time passing.

"…And what happens, Senor Wendt, when there is an oil spill?" His voice had a distinct Hispanic accent, but in English, it also took on a British accent. …He must have learned English from someone British rather than American.

"Why should there ever be one?" I countered, and the man gave me a hard stare.

"I am not a fool, do not treat me as one. …You give me this money, so I don't regulate your company's safety standards… You are paying me to stop regulating them. …Now tell me, if they know they aren't regulated, what incentive do they have to be careful? …If I do this, a spill in inevitable. And when that happens, my life here is over—my job, my family… I will go to prison."

I shook my head. "No, no, Senor Acosta, you misunderstand. It's not that we don't want to follow any safety procedures… we don't want an oil spill any more than you do. …It's bad for business. We just want the freedom to be a little laxer on the more extreme regulations."

He snapped his lighter closed, finally setting it down on the desk. "And if it should happen, due to your laxity?"

"We would of course protect you, Senor. My company doesn't wish you any harm… you help us, and of course, we'll help you…"

My head was spinning. I had done this. …Sara was right to be mad at me for working for them. "Mom!" I said, urgently, because something was now overwhelmingly clear. She looked up at me in surprise. "…You said you were sorry you hadn't been a better mother… here's your chance to redeem yourself. I need you to go inside and discreetly bring out the two briefcases with the money."

"…What? Why? Jace, what are you planning?"

I shook my head. "…For once in your life, Mom… just trust my judgment. …Help me do what I have to do to save my daughter."

She stared at me for a long moment, and then turned and headed back inside. Frantically, I looked down at the paper in my hands, memorizing the address. I had seen on the news that Senor Acosta had fled the country and had ascertained from that that my company had apparently not protected him, as they'd told me they would do. …When I'd seen this on the news, of course, I hadn't thought anything of it—not really. I didn't work for them anymore… it didn't involve me. But apparently it did. …I had ruined his life, and he was now ruining mine.

He wanted me to come alone, because this wasn't about revenge and it wasn't about money… it was about ruining me. And if it wasn't about the money, then the money couldn't keep Ayla alive… only following his directions exactly could. And…I couldn't let anyone else risk themselves, but I needed to be sure they could find Ayla if something did happen to me. Glancing at the sheet of paper still clutched in my hand, I looked around and finally just let it fall to the grass—it was the only way I could be sure they'd find it. …It was dark. Chances were they wouldn't find it until I had a decent head start.

Like clockwork, my brilliant and yet terrible mother slipped out the garage door rather than the front door, ten million dollars in tow. …She should have been a spy or a jewel thief… something more impressive than a biology professor. "…You're going to go alone."

"You can't tell them."

"…It won't be long until they notice."

"I'd better hurry then."

She passed me the bags, silently, and I moved to my car, tossing them in unceremoniously. "…Jace." I glanced at her, one foot already in the open door. "I love you."

I sighed, forcing myself to ignore her betrayal. "I love you too, Mom."

She nodded, and I slipped into the vehicle, pulling silently out of the driveway and speeding as fast as I thought I could get away with, off to my destination. "…Daddy's coming, Ayla." I whispered to myself, hoping against hope that she was, in fact, still alive.