A/N: I forgot to mention this when he was first brought into the story: Bryan Pierce is not my character, he is Lieutenant Pierce from Taken, I just needed a first name for him and he looked like a Bryan to me. So, he still belongs to good old Les Bohem (lucky bastard).

Legacy: chapter 11

Mary watched the activity on the street below as a construction crew moved box after heavy box into the ground floor of their rundown apartment turned NSA operational headquarters. The disguised crew was courtesy of the U.S. Air Force Special Forces, and the boxes apparently contained the weapons and other gear that their 'helpers' had shipped separately in order to conserve a small measure of secrecy. This operation was already drawing attention from the neighbors. The fake crew was intended to create the impression that this building was being renovated. Anything to maintain the cover.

The cover that was so important that the Special Ops unit had trickled in over the past week. One at a time, dressed in civilian street clothes and doing their best to enter the building through a hidden entrance. The last member of the unit to arrive was its commander, Major Bryan Pierce.

Mary waited nervously all week. By her logic, Pierce should have been the first to arrive. Now that he was here, she waited for a good time to confront him. She had seen some of the other familiar faces from the previous project. They all had about the same confused reaction. But it was Pierce Mary was worried about. He would be a different story. Mary had talked with him once before when he was still a Lieutenant. The day after the 'ship' had 'taken' Allie, and he had aided the girl's true escape.

If there was anyone on earth Mary knew she could trust to help her help Allie, he was the man. The only problem: she was the last person in the world he would trust.

Mary just felt it. When she had spoken with him that day five years earlier, she could see the contempt in his eyes.

Mary also knew that, once he learned what the assignment they were to carry out was, he would be the first to try to stop it. So they were both soldiers on the same side of the battlefield, Mary just had to find a way to convince Pierce of that.

The 'construction crew' piled into their now empty truck and sped away.

Mary watched the truck disappear around a corner, swallowed hard, now is as good a time as any.

She had no idea how to reveal herself to the major while still keeping Keith in the dark. This would be one of her most challenging performances yet.

"Mary… Agent Crawford, what are you doing?" Keith called from the elevator behind her as she strode confidently toward the door leading to the room where the temporary field base had been set up.

"I would like to speak our helpers," Mary turned and glared at Keith, "is that agreeable to you, Agent Sheppard?"

"I have something to tell you about that." Keith replied, holding the door of the old elevator open.

"Well, what is it?" Mary asked impatiently.

"I've decided to hand the military part of this over to you."

Me… Mary was stunned, she had expected some seemingly bad decisions from the man but nothing this blatantly idiotic… He was still playing his game, after all.

"I'm glad to see that you've thought this through, Agent Sheppard," Mary grinned.

"Well, you seem to know more about this type of thing then I do."

Should I be flattered or enraged? Mary was at a loss, Keith's act had fallen apart; he was either telling the truth or taking the game to a whole other level.

Mary persisted with her cold grin; Keith stepped back into the elevator, allowing the door to slide shut.

This was like nothing Mary had anticipated. She was going to be alone, introducing the troops to the plan. Only her and the Air Force team, and Major Pierce... Things just got a whole lot easier.

She took a deep breath, placed a hand on the doorknob. There were easily audible voices coming from inside the room. They seemed to be laughing about something, Mary didn't care, she was just glad that they would be in a good mood.

Inside the field headquarters, which was really just a large apartment unit filled with crates and cots, the men and women of the 107th Special Operations Ground Infiltration Unit sat around in several small groups. Sharing stories and idle chatter. Bryan knew that bonding times like this were good for such a young unit. More then half of them had been assigned to his command right before departing for this mission. But all the high-spirited comradery in the world could not calm Bryan's nerves.

They were sitting in the middle of Seattle, an American city, in deep cover-condition: Black. Operations on American soil always made his stomach turn. It was wrong on so many levels. The U.S. government using its military against its own citizens, no matter what they had done, was an affront to everything Bryan loved about his country. And here he was, commanding his unit in just such a situation.

The sound of a door opening behind him cut off his thoughts. All the laughter in the room died as every eye turned to watch the interloper. Bryan turned as well, to see a face he never thought he would have to see again, standing in the doorway.

Mary Crawford? What the hell is she doing here? Last he had heard, she was in federal prison for killing Dr… what's-his-name.

Mary tentatively scanned all the faces in the room, settling on Bryan for a moment, then she stepped the rest of the way into the room and closed the door behind her. Every person in the room, it seemed, had her fixed in their sights as she darted her eyes from corner to corner, looking for something. But then she turned directly to Bryan, he could see in her eyes that she had something she desperately needed to say. Her body language said she had no idea how.

She started talking: "hello, my--name is Agent Crawford…" she had all the poise of a shivering Chihuahua, "I am, in charge of the military part of this operation."

Whispers arose from some, one of the younger soldiers raised his hand like a schoolboy, Bryan felt embarrassed for both the solder and himself. "What is 'this operation'?" the young man asked. Several others showed interest in the information as well.

"Well… it is…" Mary stumbled over her own words as she realized that she had forgotten the special briefing folders that had been prepared. She decided to wing it without them. "It's a travesty, that's what it is!"

The outburst grabbed everyone's attention, especially Mary's. She didn't intend to be so open, so soon. It was an extreme risk, but she was satisfied that there were no bugs in the room, and Keith had foolishly given her authority over the special ops team. The only possible hitch would be if Pierce were not as willing to help Allie as she believed he would be.

"Major Pierce," Mary addressed him directly. "I need your help."

Bryan stared at her for a moment, then: "Why would I help you?"

Mary felt a small amount of relief; she had expected a response very similar to that. "Well, not me exactly, I need you to help me help someone else."

The room was silent, an uneasy silence, the kind Mary hated.

"Who?" Bryan finally demanded.

Mary reminded herself to breath, "I believe you might remember her. Blond hair, blue eyes… about three foot seven when you met her…"

The description clicked in his head almost instantaneously.

No way! She couldn't possibly be talking about:

"Allie?" he asked.

"Bingo!" Mary managed to calm herself back to her normal wittiness, "They don't let dumb ones rise to Major in five years do they?"

Again, the room fell utterly silent and still. All eyes were fixed on the exchange between the Major and Mary.

Bryan absorbed the idea, turned it around and around in his head. Why was he being told this? Why was Mary Crawford the one telling him? And what did Mary mean by 'help'?

"Don't worry, I know its a lot," Mary paced toward the back of the room, "well, coming from me it's a lot. I was shocked at first too."

"I assume the little girl is back?" Bryan turned to look Mary in the eye, "but why are you here? Why are we here?" he was almost afraid of the answer.

"I think you already have an idea why we're here."

"I might."

Mary waited, signaling him to continue.

"You're running the project again," Bryan said in his most practiced official tone, "You need us to catch Allie for you."

"You're half right." Mary paced back, stopping right in front of him. This was the moment of truth. If she was wrong about Pierce, Allie was dead… or worse, captured for Keith to do god knows what to, and there would be nothing she could do about it. If she even lived through the rest of the day. "Agent Sheppard and I are running a project. But we have very different agendas."

Bryan lifted an eyebrow. Excellent! Mary thought, he's on my side.

"He wishes to capture the girl," Mary continued, "I want to keep that from happening."

"And I should believe that because…?" Bryan ventured.

"Allie trusts me," Mary stated flatly, and watched a flood of confusion flash over his face. "Will you help me?"

"Do you mean, will I disobey orders, putting myself in a wonderful position to be court-martialed and lose my position?"

Mary said nothing.

"All based on the words of a woman I wouldn't trust to clean my toilet?" Bryan finished.

"Yes." Mary said, "you, technically will not be disobeying orders though. That shit-for-brains, Keith, gave me control over this part of the operation. You will be following my orders while I 'follow' his orders."

Bryan silently stared Mary in the eye for a while, then a sly grin started creeping across his face as he came to a decision.

"Should I take that as a yes?" Mary asked.

"Take it as a 'we'll see'."

Mary straightened up, walked back toward the door. "I hope you can make up your mind before 20:15."

"What happens then?" Bryan asked.

"I take you to meet with Allie."

With that, Mary let the door close behind her as she made her way back to the elevator. That had been much easier then she had dreamed. Everything was working perfectly into her hands, and Keith was totally clueless about all of it.

The cold morning air buffeted the tails of Keith's coat as his eyes scanned out over the city. The roof of the apartment building was a place where he felt reasonably secure. Any attempt to eaves drop would be easily thwarted by the wind and the noises of the busy city below. And he could always keep an eye on the only stairwell up; ensuring that no one could get close enough to hear anyway. There had been many secret cell phone calls back to D.C. from this spot, this morning would be no exception.

Pulling his phone out of an inner pocket, Keith proceeded to dial the familiar number belonging to the office of Mr. T.J. Richards. Keith stored All important numbers in his brain instead of the speed dial, security before convenience.

"H-hello?" Richards answered. His rough voice filled with as much energy as a snail on Prozac. The time difference had slipped Keith's mind momentarily; it was only 4:30 in D.C.

"Were you sleeping, Mister Richards?" Keith tried to sound concerned, a mimic he was not very good at. "I am so sorry I woke you."

"No, sir. It's my fault…"

Keith rolled his eyes. It was nice being the top dog, but he hated all the suck up desk jockey underlings, always treating him like a god. It was fun… but it got old fast.

"Shut up Richards." Keith said, "I have a progress report for you to give to the director."

Richards cleared his throat; it sounded more like an old cat trying to cough up a hairball, over the phone, "ready, sir."

"The operation is progressing as predicted," Keith started the daily dictation with a sigh, "Crawford continues her actions, she believes me ignorant of her plan. The Air Force units commander has already sided with her as predicted also, they are speaking with each other at the time of this report… there has been an interesting new development with the target. She has made new friends. I will investigate them further and pass judgment on what, if any, tactical value they hold for my operation. End."

"Understood sir…" Richards trailed, Keith could hear the hesitance in his voice.

"What is it?" he asked.

"'Tactical value', what do you mean?"

Keith had to smile at that one, "bait, my dear friend, bait. Friends are a chink in this girls otherwise bullet proof armor."

"You mean…" Richards old voice wavered. Keith was starting to think that his long time assistant no longer had the stomach for the job.

"Yes, civilian casualties are a small price to pay for what we can learn from the girl, and what that information is worth…"

"Yes sir…" Richards sighed. The resignation in his voice frightened Keith. The old man has become passive. He's realized that his job gave him knowledge of some very distasteful things, yet gives him no power whatsoever to do anything about it. Making Thomas J. Richards the one person that could pose a serious risk to Keith and his operation, to the whole NSA.

A person with no hope or confidence in his future has a very low price tag. Keith knew from his own experience. Richards would talk for money, it was no longer a question of if, but a question of when. He would have to be disposed of as soon as possible.