Woody leaned back and stretched in the plane seat, glancing over at Jordan who was fast sleep in the window seat next to him. So far the whole experience had been, well, uneventful. Not something he exactly expected from Jordan. He had prepared himself for at least one or two power tussles from her.

The bureau had stressed to Woody and the other agents how vital Jordan could be to this case. Getting her safely to New York was of primary importance. So they had carefully plotted out the course, then checked and re-checked it. Drive to Logan. Fly out. Go due east for awhile to throw anyone who may be interested off course, then fly back to New York.

Getting her safely to Logan was one thing. Getting her into the plane and the plane safely down the runway was another. Woody had been thankful Jordan was cooperative. She had said hardly a word as the agents doubled back, led her through tunnels and down back hallways to the plane. Once on board, she buckled herself in, took one last look at the Boston landscape, and fell asleep, hardly acknowledging Woody.

Did that disappoint him? Maybe, in one way. When he left Boston, there were a lot of issues they had never taken the time to work through. Maybe not, in another way. He had been gone five years. He couldn't expect them to pick back up where they left off. Perhaps she had moved on, too. Right now, the only concern he had was her safety ... and those dark circles under her eyes. It seems that this situation might be wrecking havoc on her peace of mind. She looked like she hadn't slept well in days, although she was sound asleep now. She didn't even budge when Woody had covered her with a blanket.

Woody smiled to himself. He guessed some things never changed with Jordan. He was still protecting her...still keeping the bad guys away from her. He glanced at her again. And he still thought she was the hottest woman on earth, dark circles and all.

===================================================

"Jordan, wake up, we're here," Woody said, gently shaking her awake. Jordan woke with a start, unsure at first where she was and what was going on. Then it hit her – she was on a plane, bound for New York, and Boston was hundreds of miles and a memory away. And her life had been put on hold all because she answered the call for Bob Scalanti. She shook her head. One lousy call and her life, everything she was familiar with, was turned upside down.

And on top of that, if that wasn't enough, the FBI decides to let Woody be responsible for getting her from Boston to New York. Damn, if the gods of fate didn't have a strange sense of humor.

Pulling the blanket off of her, she unbuckled and stood up. Immediately, she was surrounded by agents. "Hey, guys, I'm not going anywhere," she said. "I'm just stretching."

"They're just doing their job, Jordan," said Woody.

"I know. I'm just still getting used to this 'protective custody' thing. Bear with me, huh, guys?" She smiled at the agents, hoping to charm them into loosening up a little.

It didn't work Not a one of them cracked a smile, including Woody. "Damn," she thought, "This is going to be harder than I ever imagined."

Jordan was soon escorted down the steps of the plane into a waiting car. Again, Woody slipped into the car seat beside of her, this time plugging an ear piece in his ear. The drive to the FBI building was quiet, except for the few times Woody had to give directions over the ear piece. The vehicle pulled into the underground parking garage. Once again, Jordan was immediately surrounded by agents as they escorted her upstairs to the interrogation offices.

"Sit down and make yourself comfortable," Woody said, motioning to a couch in the room. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Some coffee would be great, Wood."

Woody opened the door and told someone to bring in some coffee. He turned back around. Jordan was still standing.

"Sit, Jordan."

"Gee, Woody, can't a girl go to the powder room here? And do you have to follow me there?"

Woody closed his eyes and counted to ten. He should have figured somewhere along the way, Jo would stop being entirely cooperative and test his good nature. Now was the time.

"Yes, you can go to the bathroom. And yes, I have to follow you. But I'll stand outside the door while you take care of business."

Jordan smiled. Woody followed her to the restroom. A few minutes later, they were back in the interrogation room, along with the requested coffee and five other FBI agents.

"Good evening, Dr. Cavanaugh," said one of the older men. "My name is Agent Winstead. We need to ask you some questions and then we'll get you settled for the evening. Okay?" He motioned for Jordan to sit down in the chair opposite him. "Can I pour you some coffee?"

Jordan nodded, sitting down and crossing her legs. "Thank you."

"Cream and sugar?"

"Black is fine. Could I have my briefcase, please?"

Woody handed her the briefcase and sat down beside Agent Winstead. After Jordan got her coffee, the questioning began.

"Could you tell us, from the beginning, what happened the night that Bob Scalanti was killed?" Agent Winstead began.

Jordan had grown up a cop's daughter and had worked with police all her professional life. She knew what Agent Winstead wanted. She proceeded to tell them, in great detail, all about the crime scene. From her briefcase, she produced pictures of the body and the scene. "What is most important, at least to me, is the fact that any one of these shots, even if thought of collectively, were not fatal. It was the type of bullets used – the hollow tipped ones. They are generally deadly regardless of the area of the wound."

Woody knew that was significant. Most mob hits are to the head and done with fairly standard ammunition.

Jordan continued. "What is probably most important to you, though, is the fact that Scalanti told me who his murderer was before he died. It was Pete Gavanotitch."

If it had been professional to audibly gasp at the table, Woody, as well as Agent Winstead, would have. Gavanotitch was a direct link to the rival mob. Jordan had just turned their suspicions into fact.

She had also just put her life in incredible danger.

Agent Winstead followed up with a few more questions. Finally, he looked at his watch. "It's almost nine o'clock, Dr. Cavanaugh. I'm going to have Agent Hoyt take you to your hotel and secure you there. We will talk again tomorrow morning. Is that okay?"

Jordan had a feeling it had to be 'okay' whether she wanted it to or not. "Sure. Then can I go back home?"

"Er, no. Actually there's a few other folks you're going to have to talk to before we can send you back to Boston. So plan to stay a few days in our lovely city."

Jordan rose and began to gather her briefcase and reports together. Agent Winstead shot Woody a look over Jordan's head. There was no way in hell she was getting out of New York before an arrest was made. And it was up to Woody to break the news to her