***3***

***3***

Hannibal seemed distracted by something and she noticed both Face and BA giving him the same unsure look she knew she was giving.

No not the same. They were concerned by his sudden black mood; she had other things to worry about.

A decision to make.

Amy Allen chewed nervously on her lip as she watched Hannibal and the guys prepare their weapons. She trusted them with her life, had trusted them on many occasions, but she didn't trust the Syndicate. And she didn't dare risk Issie's life. Not for anyone, even the team.

The coded message she'd received had been carefully worded, asking for Isabelle's mother to go to the front of the Grand Hotel at 2pm. Issie would be released to The Sisters of St Claire's shortly afterwards. Amy was to pass this on to her old friend HM Murdock and neither of them was to contact the police or the Team.

Her editor, Steve, had told her to stick close. He smelled an exclusive and despite her anger that Murdock's pain and anguish would be exploited, she also knew she'd not had a decent scoop in months. Or, in years, in fact.

But that was not all the note said, there was one last thing….

Something she didn't dare tell Hannibal.

Did she?

"Well, Kid?"

Amy jumped at Hannibal's voice.

"Your source find out where these scumballs keep their front door?"

Amy met the colonel's eyes. To be or not to be…

She took a deep breath and nodded, holding out a piece of paper. "This is the address of Carlos Farrell. Word on the street is he runs the LA arm of the Syndicate."

Hannibal snatched it away. "Saddle up, guys, we're gonna pay this bastard a visit."

******

Face glanced over to the empty seat beside his as the van rolled towards the Farrell's home. It had scared him to see Murdock so out of control. He'd seen the pilot at rock bottom in his life, seen the breakdown of his sanity and the terrible toll the VC had taken on his soul.

But nothing compared to the sheer panic he descended into. Or the force of the anger he'd thrown at Face.

Anger he knew he deserved. Why hadn't he been watching her? How hard would it have been to sit with her in the garden until Murdock came back? Alice could have waited, would have waited. She understood about his relationship with Murdock and his daughter, more than he gave her credit for. Hannibal read his and BA's thoughts. "We'll be her back, guys."

"Man, if they hurt her-"

"Yeah, Hannibal, the Syndicate isn't exactly known for their tender mercies."

"Nothing will happen if we keep our mind on our jobs." Hannibal warned. "I know how worried you both are but we have to stay focused." He met their eyes, one at a time.

They both nodded and Hannibal smiled. They were good soldiers.

*****

The sound of machine gun fire surrounded them and the corridor melted into jungle. He could feel the rough sweat-drenched flight uniform he was now wearing, smell the acrid scent of burning houses and burning flesh.

"Get down! " He yelled to her, pulling her to the ground. She was about to pay a high price for selling VC secrets. Secrets she'd trusted him with, told him because she thought he'd protect her.

Protect her…that was a joke.

His chopper was down, the Team would be returning to the landing zone to find no rescue. He could only hope that his last message had got through and another chopper would be there to greet them. And him. Couldn't take another spell in the Hanoi Hilton. Not without the guys, he'd almost surrendered to death before but they'd pulled him back for the brink. He wouldn't be able to do that alone.

He crawled on his belly, half dragging her behind him, to the relative safety of the river. The water was filthy and stank of urine, faeces, both human and animal, and of old blood. Probably connected to the VC camp the Team was raiding. He prayed they'd got out OK…. unlike him.

The girl was shaking at his side; her hair dripping with the foul water she'd fallen in. Her eyes were clouded, she knew her time was up. He'd seen that look to many times, too many fucking times, on the face of soldiers to young to vote or drink in a bar.

But deemed old enough for war by rich politicians who would never step into the battle themselves.

"I'm sorry. " He told her.

Bu he knew what would happen. What had happened and had kept on happening for thousands of night afterwards, the nightmares plaguing him whenever he closed his eyes.

"HM, there behind us. "

Murdock nodded, gripping his gun. Maybe this time would be different, maybe this time he could save her. Another round of gunfire sounded, like thunder on a summer's day. Something hit his thigh; he looked down to see a dark stain spreading. The pain hit him a split-second later.

The girl gasped at the blood; "can you run? They're closing in. If we don't go now, they'll have cut us off."

"Yes, but I'll slow you down. Go! I'll cover you."

"NO! I'm dead anyway, the VC have seen me. I'm marked."

"I said GO!"

She stood up, the filthy water sposhing around her waist. "GETUP!" She pulled him to his feet. Murdock bit his lip hard to keep from screaming out at the agony of it.

A round of fire rang out and her body danced as a hail of bullets hit her, spraying blood over his face and chest.

He screamed.

*****

"Murdock! Murdock, wake up!"

His eyes snapped open and for a moment he saw Kim leaning over him, rousing him for the nightmare as she had so many times. He gripped her tightly, breathing heavily.

"It's Ok, it was just a dream." She said. The voice wasn't Kim's and a wave of grief washed over him.

Isabelle!

The terror shot through him as he remembered and he pulled away. He climbed off the sofa and was half way across the room when he realised who he had been hugging.

"Amy!"

Amy Allen smiled, her face tired and care-worn, "It's good to see you too."

He quickly moved across to her and embraced her. "I've missed you." He whispered and meant it more than he could ever express.

"Murdock I'm so sorry about Isabelle." She touched his arm; "we'll get her back. The guys are following a lead right now."

"They-they know where she is?"

Amy looked away, obviously unsure.

"Do they?"

She didn't agree with Hannibal on many things but even after all these years she still looked upon him as their leader. Betraying him was hard, even if it was for Isabelle.

"Tell me where she is!" He grabbed her wrist and forced her to look at him. He saw a flash of fear in her eyes and let go, "I'm sorry…please, she's my life."

"The paper received coded message from the Syndicate. That's why I came, to deliver it…to you."

"And you told the Team instead?"

She nodded.

"She is MY daughter, if Hannibal has one of his plans…they could get her killed!"

"You have to trust them, Murdock!"

"I just wan' her back…" He looked into her eyes, "what did the message say?"

"They want to trade her."

"For the Team?"

She shook her head. "For Kim."

*****

Sargent Reid curled his lip in disgust at the corpse in front of him. The joyful leer frozen on his face as the pure uncut heroin had stopped his heart. And his arms flayed as he'd writhed in fantasy. The MD and forensic were crouching over him, picking over the corpse like a pair of vultures.

Not that Briggs deserved the sympathy. He was being investigated for illegal adoptions but no evidence had yet been found to charge him. Now this place was a crime scene they could rifle through his things to their hearts delight. It was just a shame that in his need for a high he'd found a way to escape justice.

The forensic stood up. Reid came forward. "Well? Just another Junkie?"

He shook his head, "there are no needle marks on his arms or nasal damage from inhaling, this was either his first trip or…"

"Or?"

"You'll have to wait for the post mortem but, professional hunch…I'd say he was murdered."

"Made to look like an OD?"

The forensic nodded.

"Sir?"

Reid turned to the uniform that called him. The Officer, a boy really, held out a bracelet. "Found this, sir…"

Reid took the bracelet, a thin chain of gold with a smooth section for a name. He held it up to the light. Elegantly engraved was a word.

Isabelle.

"Ain't that the name of that kid that was snatched, sir?"

"Yeah…and this guy fits the description her father gave us. And he was murdered."

*****

"Kim's…"

Amy touched his arm, "I know."

"Why-why do they want her? She's not connected to the Team." He asked, "even if she wasn't…"

"That's why I had to tell them, Murdock. When the Syndicate realise Kim is dead, they'll…The team are the best hope to get them back. You know that!"

"And I should be with 'em!" Murdock kicked the sofa, knowing she was right. Amy looked away. He saw the quick flash of indecision in her eyes. She could hide things from the rest of the team, but not from him. They'd shared too much.

"That ain't all, is it? They want something else?" He guessed. "Someone else?"

She nodded, still avoiding his face.

"Me?" He took her by the shoulders and turned her to look at him. "They guys don't know that, do they?"

"No, I didn't dare tell them. Hannibal would've come up with one of his plans and maybe gotten Issie killed." She bit her lip, "And you as well."

Murdock smiled and closed his eyes a moment. When he opened them, she saw a hard light in the brown she'd never seen before. It scared her.

"Good." He said, "Tell me everything that message said."

******

Farrell gazed down on the Kid as she slept. Lisa had dressed her in one of her shirts and was tucking her into the middle of a large guestbed. She'd fallen asleep on the sofa a couple of hours ago out of sheer exhaustion. She was so much like Emma. He remembered her mother from the trial, a beautiful girl not long out of her teens. Her eyes defiant in the face of Syndicate threats. Despite the fact she'd been almost solely responsible for the conviction of his uncle, he'd admired her spirit. She wasn't afraid of anyone. He was going to enjoy watching her die.

How long would it take to hear her beg for mercy? Just how brave would she be?

The door opened and one of his goons walked in. It was Harry, that dumb arse never knocked.

"Sir? It's the Batphone."

"The Batphone?" Lisa said, and Farrell was surprised at the note of tension in her voice.

"I'm sorry, my dear, I know you didn't want me to call him…"

"He'll lie!"

"Not with the amount he owes the Syndicate." Farrell replied, "I agree Hunter's usefulness will be wasted, I would have preferred to use him for something a bit more important than this, but with the police presents in the area, searching for the Kid, we'll need him. And there's the A team to consider. I know they're no longer active but they're a complication we could do without. We need to find this Kim quickly. He can do it."

Farrell noticed she didn't share his joy.

"We've come this far without him."

Farrell frowned at her. He'd never seen her so…unnerved. Maybe she was suffering from a bout of maternal instincts. No, it was more than that…

There was no time to ponder this, though, that idiot Hunter had answers waiting.

*****

Agent Lyle Hunter watched his knuckles turn white as he gripped the file in front of him. He knew that his other hand was the same colour as he gripped the receiver to his ear, waiting to hear Farrell distinctive gallows humoured tone. He glanced at the death shot paper-clipped to the file.

Kimberly Ellen Tailor…RIP.

Farrell would not be pleased.

He hated himself for being Farrell's lapdog, but his love of gambling had spiralled him deeper and deeper into dept. He owed hundreds of thousands to casino…they were Syndicate Casino's he'd later discovered. And Farrell didn't want payment in money, even if he'd have had that amount to give. Farrell had wanted favours.

Like the FBI records on the Witness Protection deals made between them and lawyers working for Emma Bailey.

Who in 1985, had become Kim Tailor. She'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time and stumbled upon a Syndicate boss as he blew away a rival. Farrell's uncle went to the chair, murder one.

Emma Bailey ceased to exist and Kimberly Tailor was born.

And Kim Tailor had died in '91. She hadn't, as Farrell thought, entered the programme a second time to prevent the Syndicate finding her.

"Yes?" Farrell's voice sounded over the phone. "You have the file?"

Hunter closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. "Yes. It's here."

"Excellent. Where is that malicious bitch hiding this time?"

"It…it's a closed file. She's dead."

The noise Farrell made down the phone turned Hunter's stomach.

"I can bring you the death shot," he heard himself saying quickly, "you can see. She's dead. The car made quite a mess of her face."

"This is some kind of trick! I'm warning you, Hunter. I know where your wife works. She has such a pretty face, it'd be a shame if someone threw acid in it."

"You stay the fuck away from my wife!"

"And your kids, I know where they go to school."

"You sick bastard. I'M TELLING YOU THE TRUTH!"

Farrell's voice was suddenly calm. "Really?" He sounded thoughtful; "my runner will meet you in the usual place. Bring the file."

"Just-just the photo, I-I can't take the file from-"

"You WILL bring the file, Mr Hunter."

"But if someone-"

"That is your problem. Just bring the file."

Hunter put down the phone. His job was forfeit now.

He just hoped the same couldn't be said for his life.

*****

Lisa tried to stay calm. Perhaps that Federal Bastard really would lie. Maybe, to save his own neck, he'd concoct some alias for Kim. Say she was in Alaska or something…

It was all going wrong. It was meant to take longer before Farrell discovered the truth than this. What would he do to Issie if he realised Kim really was dead?

She glanced at the baby sleeping in the bed. Farrell was an evil man but harming children…

Surely such an act was beyond him?

But his hatred of Emma ran deep; he might think nothing of taking his anger out on her child.

No, no, it was too horrible to contemplate…but he wasn't likely to just let her go.

She glanced at the clock. Three more hours and she had to go to the meeting place. She had planned to leave the child here but she could no longer trust Farrell not to harm her in that time.

It would be harder to get everything in order with a child in tow, even harder when her face was splashed over the news and anyone could recognise her.

But they had to get out of there.

It was now or never.

"Isabelle? Wake up." She shook the child, "c'mon, Auntie Lisa wants to take you on a little car ride."

The baby moaned as she opened her eyes. Fear filled her face when she realised who was there. She shrunk away from Lisa, a little whimper escaping from her lips. The only sound Lisa had heard her make.

She hurried down the stairs to the front door, glancing nervously around, terrified of being seen.

As she reached the bottom, Farrell came out of the study.

"And here the little orphan is." He said.

Lisa put the child down, her heart racing, trying to look casual and hide the sudden fear she felt. She didn't know what to do now.

Farrell walked towards the little girl slowly; staring at Issie the way a cat watches its prey. "Did your daddy ever read the bible to you, little orphan? There's a line in there, let the sins of the father be visited upon their sons." Farrell's face broke into a smile, "and presumably the sins of the mother are visited on their daughters." Each footstep was bringing him closer to the terrified baby. "And your mommy was a very bad woman…"