The following late morning, Miranda came down from their quarters looking for her husband. She had managed to sneak out in the middle of the night last night while her husband had been in a deep but fitful sleep. She had gotten Malone to drink several more bottles of water and eat another MRE. She had fallen asleep on the couch in their sitting room upstairs. She hadn't intended to; she had just sat down for a few minutes to gather her thoughts. She was planning to confront her husband. She had startled herself awake and had come downstairs, looking for him. She found him all right. Ken was in the newly redone library, sitting at the expanse of the mahogany desk she had purchased for him, with a gun in his hands.

"Ken," she started, trying to hold her voice steady, "what are you doing with that gun?"

Her husband barely looked at her. "He's not budging. I've got to end him. I don't know what else to do."

Miranda's heart jumped into her throat. She was already worried that her husband had lost it. It was worse than she thought. She fixed her husband with her most adamant gaze. "Kenneth, if you're going to shoot him, you'll have to shoot me first."

Somehow her words broke through the barrier. It was bad enough when his father-in-law called him that, never mind Miranda. Ken looked up at his wife, finally looking at her for about the first time in the past two weeks. Something about the way she was looking at him made him come back to himself. Obviously, there was no way he would shoot his own wife. He thought he could do this. He thought he could get this man under his command, break him, control him. Every technique he tried only made the man fight back against him so much harder. He had failed. He had failed himself, his plan, but worst of all, he had failed Miranda. He had failed the love of his life. Who was he kidding? He wasn't going to shoot Malone either. He was a lot of things, but a cold-blooded murderer wasn't one of them. He unloaded the weapon. Miranda crossed the room to him and held out her hand, "Give me the keys to Malone's restraints."

"I can't take a chance of him hurting you," he argued.

"He's not going to hurt me. You went after a man that was like you, but better than you for a reason, right? He's not going to hurt the woman who's there to help him, even if she is the wife of the man who imprisoned him."

"If things were the other way 'round, I'd burn the earth to the ground to get back to you," Ken stated.

Miranda didn't even think he was exaggerating. "Better, remember?"

Ken didn't say another word but fished the keys of his pants pocket and placed them in his wife's hand. She took them and turned away from him to walk out the door but not before she took the discarded bullets from the top of the desk, pocketing them.

Ken hung his head in his hands, utterly defeated. Maybe Miranda's family could get him a real good lawyer. Maybe his brother-in-law could defend him. Kidnapping two people, first offense, maybe it would just be a few years with time served for good behavior. Maybe by some miracle he could convince Miranda to wait for him. Regardless, it was time to man up and face his sins. He stood up. He needed to go get Tina free and back to her husband.

He pulled himself together and went upstairs to her. She was sitting on the mattress, reading one of the books he had left her. It only registered with his subconscious that the book she was reading wasn't one of the titles he had remembered leaving for her. He had her stand and handcuffed her hands behind her back. Then he undid the shackle from her ankle and pulled on a pair of Miranda's sweatpants he had brought with him and a pair of slip-on sneakers.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked. When he brought her fresh trays of food and took away the old the only thing she would say to him would be 'thank you'.

"I'm taking you to see your husband," he replied.

Miranda had raced up the dirt drive on the ATV nearly as fast as the first afternoon when she had made a mad dash for food and water for Malone. She got to the outbuilding, typed her birthday in to the lock code and went downstairs. She quickly unlocked Malone's four cuffs. He looked at her for a mere moment before heading for the stairs, but her voice stopped him, "Malone, before you go, I think there are some things you should know. There is a choice you have, a very important choice that affects your family and more. Would you be willing to listen?"

Malone looked between his freedom and the woman who had made it possible. He looked again at the waiting stairs. Sighing, he turned, and went back to the flimsy cot and the postage stamp of an area that had been his prison for nearly three weeks. Sitting down, he joined her on the cot.

Ken had gotten Tina into the passenger seat of the Bronco. As her hands were cuffed behind her back, he had reached over her, after placing a securing forearm against her sternum, to prevent her from throwing her weight or her forehead at him, to buckle her seatbelt for her. Tina was floored. This man who had kept her shackled in a bathroom for weeks, was ensuring her seatbelt was secure.

He had walked her down through an immense and gorgeous home to a side garage where the vehicle had been parked. He drove them up a dirt road, well more of a path, behind the property. Tina tried to keep her rising panic from spiraling. He had said he was taking her to see her husband. Did that mean he was taking her into the woods to murder her? Was Mike already dead?

Malone walked up into the sunshine and the natural light of the day for the first time in weeks. He blinked and then a figure appeared before him. The first thing his squinting eyes managed to focus on was the asshole who had done this to him. The Commander. All of a sudden all he saw was liquid red. Fire and hatred at the man who had caused his ordeal consumed him. He strode right at the source of his pain with cold unyielding purpose and swung his closed fist at the man's face with everything he had, dropping him to ground with one punch.

A split second later, his brain registered the fact that he had just heard not one but two woman's shrieks, the Commander's wife's from behind him and thank the Lord Almighty in heaven, his wife, his beautiful wife, was standing in front of him. Not taking his eyes from his wife's face, he reached down with his right arm and hauled the man he had just dropped back up to his feet and strode directly to embrace his wife.

Reaching her, he wrapped his large hands on either side of her face and kissed her deeply. Pulling back, he looked her over with a searing gaze. "Are you ok? Oh, my god, are you alright? Tina, are you hurt?"

His wife didn't answer him, just shook her head at him as silent tears rolled down her face. Not even waiting for an answer, he pressed his lips to hers. Her response gave him everything he needed to know. She was ok. Finally realizing that her hands were locked behind her back, he called over his shoulder, "Would someone get these fucking things off of her?!"

Ken fished the cuff key out of his back pocket with his right hand, his left hand holding his cheek and lower jaw. He had never been hit so hard in his life. His vision was still blurred. Not that he didn't deserve it but holy fuck! Ow! He tried to shift his jaw and another round of pain shot up to his temple. If something wasn't broken, the bone was at least bruised. He managed to walk over to the couple and move behind Tina to unlock her hands from the cuffs. She immediately wrapped her arms around her husband and buried her face into his chest. Malone lifted his eyes to Ken's, "So, I hear you have a job for me?"