~XII~

"Come on," Amanda urged between breaths, "we've got to do this together or it's not going to work."

Joe paused, panting slightly as he tried to gauge the distance to the door. "What are we going to do when we get there?"

"I haven't quite worked that part out yet," she replied through gritted teeth. "Let's go."

Joe kept his feet firmly planted on the floor. "Amanda, this is ridiculous," he told her firmly. "The door's locked. I heard that bastard turn the key."

"Joe . . ."

"No."

She moaned deeply as he steadfastly refused to budge.  Civilians . . . this worked so much better when Lee was the one chained to the other chair. She tried again. "Come on, Joe, we've got to do something . . . we can't just let him get away with it."

"Don't you think I know that?" he croaked hoarsely.  "It's my wife he took hostage."

"But?" she challenged.

"But . . . I can recognize a hopeless situation when I see one, Amanda." Taking a sharp breath, he added sadly, "You never could."

Amanda abruptly halted her movements, whistling softly. "No, I guess not. I wouldn't have lasted long in this line of work if I did."

Joe didn't reply. Cautiously stretching her stiff neck, she took stock of their situation again. Even though her eyes had grown accustomed to the darkened office, it was still next to impossible to get any real sense of her surroundings. She groaned impatiently. She could hear a clock ticking away the seconds from somewhere across the room, and she vaguely wondered if Lee had missed her yet. How long would he wait before he began to suspect something? True, he'd been wary of Walters from the start, but how much of that uneasiness was Lee's jealousy and how much Scarecrow's uncanny instinct?

No, he wouldn't be worried yet. He knew she could handle herself. Although at the moment she wished she hadn't worked quite so hard to convince him on that score. She let out a short sigh. Walters seemed to think the Agency was hot on his trail; she could only hope that he was right.

Somewhere behind her in the darkness, Joe coughed. "You okay?" she questioned kindly.  His labored breathing worried her. She'd barely broken a sweat from their exertions, while Joe seemed oddly winded. 

"Yeah," he said at last. "Just worried about Carrie."

"She'll be okay, Joe," she told him with an assurance she didn't feel. "Like he said, he's not the murdering type."

"How can you possibly know that?" Joe said, clearly vexed. "Or is there something you're not telling me? Have you and Lee been investigating this guy all along?"

"Honestly, neither one of us had ever seen or heard of the man until yesterday."

She could feel Joe bristling behind her. "Not to hear him tell it. If it wasn't for your damn jobs . . ."

"As I recall," she hissed, "those 'damn jobs' have saved your butt more than once."

An unsettling silence closed around them, broken only by the occasional heaving breath from Joe. Amanda compressed her lips, restraining her anger with a Herculean effort. Fighting wouldn't solve anything, not now; she knew Joe's acrimony stemmed mostly from worry, anyway. "I'm sure Walters is only interested in making his deal," she said, trying again to bolster his sagging spirits. "Men like that usually only have money on their mind."

"You think so?"

She heard the slight tremor in his voice. "Yeah," she lied, steadfastly refusing to entertain thoughts of every female agent's worst nightmare. "I'm sure of it."  She reached for him, but their arms were entwined in a way that kept his hand just out of hers. She settled for giving his arms a small squeeze instead. She understood his distress only too well; she'd felt it enough times herself when Lee was in danger.

"May I ask you a question?" she asked suddenly.  She needed to do something – anything – to take his mind off his helplessness.

"Could I stop you?" Joe replied wryly.

She chuckled softly. "Probably not. But you have my express permission to tell me to mind my own business if you want."

She heard his sigh turn into a low laugh. "How can I turn down an offer like that?"

"Why haven't you and Carrie had a child of your own?"

At Joe's sharp intake of breath, she swiftly added, "I've seen how she is with Matty. She's crazy about him; Jenny, too." Joe was strangely silent, and she resolutely ploughed on.  "I mean, every time you guys come over, Carrie practically devotes herself to both of them. And Matty, he feels the same way about her. It's so obvious she'd like . . ."

"We can't have children," he stated gruffly.

Amanda bit her lip. "Oh, I'm sorry, Joe. I guess I really should learn to keep my mouth shut. She must be . . ."

"It's not Carrie's fault," came the icy reply.

Amanda felt a flush spread over her face. "I, uh . . ."

Oblivious to her discomfiture, Joe continued. "Carrie wanted a baby, but I . . ." He took a deep breath. "I just . . . well, I just couldn't. After Santarilla."

"Oh, my gosh."

"I mean, I *wouldn't*," he hastily clarified. "I had a vasectomy."

Amanda shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, Joe. This really is none of my business. I didn't mean to . . ."

"Sure you did," Joe said gravely, "but it's okay. I don't mind talking about it . . . well, not to you, anyway." He sighed deeply. "Carrie and I discussed it for a long time, and she eventually saw things my way. With the kind of people in this world doing the kind of things they do to each other . . . I worry enough about Phillip and Jamie, let alone bringing another innocent life . . . well, it's just too hard, Amanda. I don't know how you and Lee can do it. Especially with your jobs."

Amanda sat very still, listening to Joe's shallow breathing. "I think we do it *because* of our jobs," she said at last in a small voice. "When you see too much . . ." She took a deep breath, letting it out ever so slowly. "Let's just say family, children . . . it all starts to mean a whole lot more. It's kind of a promise that things will go on."

He whistled in admiration. "You always did see that glass half-full, didn't you?"

"It's no business for a pessimist," she quipped, her laugh echoing in the darkness. The hollow noise continued, and Amanda strained to listen.  "Joe," she said in a rush, "did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Shh," she admonished, adding in a gravelly murmur, "That!"

They sat frozen, listening to the fast-approaching footsteps in the hall. "Hey, in here," she yelled, while Joe added a resounding, "Help!"

The door burst open, light suddenly flooding the small room. "Federal agents," the first man intoned, while two other men joined him, guns drawn.

"What the . . . ?!" the second man cried suddenly, his exclamation trailing off into a sheepish smile. "Amanda?"

She craned her neck to get a better look. "Hank?" she said incredulously as she recognized one of the agents from their section. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled as he holstered his gun, instructing the other men to do likewise. "Scarecrow put out an alpha alert earlier tonight when the special background came back on this fellow Walters," he explained. "I popped over to reel in the net." He bent down, trying unsuccessfully to stifle his laughter as he went to work on their cuffs. "I didn't expect you'd turn up in it, though."

"Ha, ha," she groaned, rubbing her sore wrists as he freed her from her bonds. "I walked into the middle of something." Standing, she stretched out her cramped muscles. "Where's Lee?"

"I don't know," Hank replied vaguely. "By the river, I think. Something's going down."

"Where exactly by the river?"

"Uh, the stone bridge."

Her eyes narrowed sharply. "Give me your gun, I'm not armed."

"Amanda, Scarecrow will have my head if I let you over there."

"And I'll have your head if you don't," she snapped. "Don't make me remind you that I outrank you."

"I'm going with you," Joe said suddenly, jumping to his feet as the other agent freed him. His breath came in wheezing gasps. "Carrie's there."

"No, you're not," she replied harshly. Softening her expression, she looked Joe in the eye. "You need medical attention."

"I'm perfectly fine . . ."

Amanda regarded him with narrowed eyes. "You are not *fine*," she told him grimly. "Please, Joe. I don't need one more person to worry about."

Joe drew another ragged breath, rubbing the handcuff mark on his left wrist with a shaking hand.  "Okay, okay," he said, reluctantly conceding the point.

Nodding, she turned back to the agent. "Come on, Hank," she said in a softer tone.  "I'm not going to leave my partner hanging. I'll tell him I made it an order."

Engaging the safety, he handed her his gun with a small groan. "You'd better," he warned. "I hate working nights and weekends."

Smiling grimly, she tucked the weapon inside the waistband of her jeans. "Me, too."

TBC