Filled with reluctance, Pedro showed him to the bathroom. 'There you are, Tony. Upstairs, the first door on the left. Don't make a mess. And dump your clothes somewhere; you can throw them in the washing machine later.'

Tony nodded his appreciation and pulled off his clothes, peeling away five days of grime. The dirt from the road and sleeping outdoors turned everything grey, including his fingernails. He stepped into the shower, pulling the glass door shut, and turned on the hot water, taking care to keep his injured right arm outside the stream. Slowly he relaxed, leaning against the tiles, loosening his stiff muscles. The door opened a few minutes later and Pedro entered, placing a clean towel beside the basin.

'Tony, I found you some old clothes. They'll fit your cover of a semi literate peasant, and at least they're clean. You may keep them.'

Tony opened the glass door and examined them. There was an undershirt with a slight tear along the side, a stretched green t-shirt that had faded several shades since its purchase with a crocodile along the top, and a pair of black jeans with threadbare knees. He glanced at his cousin in silence while Pedro grinned at him. 'Gracias,' he muttered.

'You're welcome. You can wear them to work tomorrow,' Pedro told him. 'You coming out yet.'

'In a minute,' Tony replied, returning to the warm shower. There was little reason to hurry, and his fingernails were still black. He sensed his cousin's changing attitude to his presence, from resentment to deep amusement. Why did you have to boast about my grades to Abuelo, Papa? Now Pedro's gonna make me work till I drop for a little cash, and I can't refuse. I got nowhere else to go; I need money to move further. The bastard looks like he's gonna enjoy the next few days! He allowed himself to relax further and found himself smiling too. So you're gonna do some building, Almeida? Well, you better hope this doctor fixes your arm properly then. His grin faded, replaced by a worried frown. The bullet was lodged deep, and hurt him badly; it would be hard to remove. The evening was going to be terrible, despite having shelter. He felt his heart begin to beat wildly and reached up to turn the cold water on, shocking himself out of his gathering panic. Focus, Almeida. The doctor had to fix his arm, the pain was becoming intolerable.

Pedro banged on the door a few minutes later. 'Tony! Are you coming out, or do you want me to charge you for the water? It costs a lot round here.'

'I was just coming,' he replied mildly, amused by his cousin's meanness. He rubbed himself dry and pulled on the clothes donated by Pedro, glancing at himself in the mirror. A tuft of hair stood up, refusing to be tidied by his fingers. A quick examination of the shelves showed him a comb, which he rinsed thoroughly under the tap before running it through his hair. Now he really needed a pair of scissors to trim his nails. He pulled open several drawers, poking through the contents as his cousin entered, furious.

'What are you doing, Tony? Spying?'

'You got to be kidding,' Tony retorted. 'You see these nails? It would be suitable only for a caveman.'

Pedro pulled open the bottom drawer and handed him a pair of scissors. 'Hurry up; the doctor will be here soon. He'll be curious, but won't ask any questions. Don't worry about him.'

Tony nodded, following him a few minutes later, his stomach knotting. He accepted a glass of water from his cousin and settled on the couch, glancing at him warily in case he objected but he remained silent.

'So what did you do this time?' Pedro asked, sitting opposite him with a beer. 'I can't offer you one now Tony, until the quack's been, in case it would interfere with his anesthetic.'

'Its ok,' Tony replied, examining the room. It was cheerful, obviously meant for a family. The walls were of pale cream, and a few pictures hung opposite the kitchen. 'I looked into something my former boss classified. He's a little annoyed at the moment.'

'He wants to kill you?' Pedro asked, glancing at him.

'Something like that, yeah,' Tony agreed.

Pedro laughed aloud, shaking his head. 'You never could mind your own business, Tony. Anyway, you'll find me rude if I don't ask after the rest of my American cousins. How are they all?'

Tony shrugged, watching a few goldfish swimming round an aquarium. 'They're fine. Anna and her husband are doing great with their tennis schools, Rita made associate professor recently, Janey's ok now, she had cancer a few years back, Marco made captain and Joey's somewhere in the north of Norway right now, at an observatory. Maria's actually been going out with the same guy for six months now, and Papa and mom are the same as usual.'

'What about your other brother, the funny one?' Pedro questioned, nothing escaping his notice. 'The one who always had the wise comments? Bobby?'

Tony got up and went to the window, staring outside into the gathering darkness. 'He's dead.' He remained in the same position, face pressed against the glass, until a knock at the door distracted him.

'Buenas tardes,' Pedro greeted the new arrival. 'Tony, the doctor's here.'

You will NOT start shaking, Almeida! Tony ordered himself, turning to face the doctor.

'So what can I do for you, Señor Rosales?' questioned the doctor, glancing at Pedro.

'This peasant got himself shot entering Mexico. Remove the bullet, would you? He's a good builder.'

The doctor laid his bag on the coffee table and turned to Tony. 'It would help if I could see it,' he said, not unkindly.

Tony blushed and removed his sweater, allowing the doctor to remove the bandage. 'Ah, yes, you certainly got a bullet there. When did it happen?'

'A coupla days ago,' Tony answered, turning red under the doctor's scrutiny.

'More like a fortnight, I'd say,' remarked the doctor. 'You've been taking antibiotics, I gather?'

'Sí,' Tony admitted.

'Good. Otherwise I'd have to amputate that arm by this time. Now Señor Rosales, I'll need you to boil me a little water and fetch a few clean towels.' Pedro left the room and the doctor turned to Tony. 'I'll need you to remove that t-shirt too, Señor Almeida. And lie down on the couch.'

Tony froze, his t-shirt halfway off. 'What did you say?' he choked.

'Oh, I recognize you, of course I do. Your picture is posted all over my surgery, and every other doctor's in the country. Don't worry; your secret is safe with me. I betray you, you betray me, and I lose my license, possibly end up in jail. The t-shirt,' he reminded.

Tony pulled his clothes off and lay on the towels, his heart pounding. 'Could I ask you a favor? Don't tell…'

'Of course not,' the doctor agreed, as Pedro returned. 'Why should it hurt,' he continued. 'Now that is quite deep, it'll take well over an hour to extract and repair the damage. It's 400 dollars, Señor Rosales.'

Pedro handed him the watch which the doctor examined with interest. 'Alright, I'll take that. Now, I have to cut quite deep, part of the bullet is lodged near the bone. Do you want anesthetic? It'll be 15 dollars.'

'15 dollars!' Pedro exclaimed. 'Does he really need it?'

'Pedro,' Tony cried, horrified.

'I'd say that unless you were to bring a dozen men to hold him down, yes, he'll need it.'

'It's coming out of your pay,' Pedro hissed. 'Alright, go ahead.' He pulled a chair up to the couch and settled down, obviously used to assisting in emergencies before. Tony watched the doctor open his bag and remove what resembled a giant pair of tweezers, together with a needle, which he filled, and some knives. His heart skipped a beat and he felt his face grow hot. He stirred restlessly, sitting up.

'Lie down, señor, I'm about to administer the painkiller,' the doctor ordered. Pedro threw him a disgusted look and Tony lay back, unable to watch. He pressed his lips together, remaining silent as the needle stung him.

I don't think I can do this, mom. He concentrated on his breathing, forcing himself to relax.

'Relax señor, you won't feel a thing,' the doctor assured him, pulling out a stethoscope while he waited. He listened to Tony's heart, frowning. 'Señor, it really won't hurt. You must calm down, or I'll be forced to put you under, and that will cost over 200 dollars.'

'Tony, you'll relax this instant,' Pedro cried, agitated. 'He really is fine, doctor,' he assured him. 'You can start.'

The door opened before Michelle had a chance to ring the bell and she found herself wrapped into her mother-in-law's arms. 'Michelle, thank God you're back.' Michelle read the anxiety and unspoken question in her eyes and marveled at her restraint. She slipped her hand inside her pocket and pushed over a note, placing her fingers round her mouth. Please read it. I wrote down everything I know about Tony's disappearance.

Tony's father appeared from the dining room, a glass of wine in his hands. Alert brown eyes registered the presence of the note and he gave her a slight nod. 'Michelle, I can't tell you how glad I am to see you,' he said clearly, hugging her. The hug was genuine, she knew, aware of how close they both were to her. 'What do you know about Tony?' He winked at her and she nodded back. You're aware your house is bugged and you know whoever is listening would be suspicious if nobody asked after Tony. She stared into the face that was so like Tony's it brought tears to her eyes.

'I don't know where he is,' she said miserably. 'They're really mad at him for his recent hacking.'

'Mad enough to put him into jail?'

'Oh yes,' she said honestly.

'We had an agent Main here,' Tony's mother told her, playing along. 'He said Tony was wanted for selling information to our enemies. He'd never do that; surely they know it by now?'

'They're still looking into it, but it's being dealt with higher up, so I don't know exactly how it's going,' she said truthfully. 'I keep asking everyday. Right now it looks bad. I wish he'd return and clear his name.'

'He'll return when he knows his name is cleared,' Tony's father told her for the benefit of the hidden microphones. 'Have a drink?' he asked and she nodded.

'Dinner is ready,' Tony's mother told her, passing the note to his father while she poured Michelle some wine. She settled in her usual place at the table, noting the empty spot beside her. Exhausted, she blinked, seeing Tony's cheeky grin as he never failed to tease her by offering a few dishes he knew she detested while she would attempt to shake her head slightly, not daring to refuse out loud for fear of causing offence. A sudden picture of Tony hurt and alone came to her and she was unable to hold her tears in.

'Hey Michelle,' Tony's father exclaimed, pulling her towards him. 'Shsh. It's gonna be ok, you'll see. I know Tony; he can take care of himself pretty well. He's okay, I would know it if he wasn't.' He bit his tongue a moment later, aware how that would sound to whoever listened to them. His wife cast him an alarmed look.

'You always know if your children are not ok,' she said gently, getting up to stroke Michelle's hair. 'You just feel it inside if you're a parent. He is ok now.'

'Sit down, Jack,' Hammond told him, nodding his head at a chair.

Jack settled down and looked emotionlessly at the man opposite him, wondering again why he was summoned. Some undercover operation was going down and had taken a turn for the worse, or Hammond would never have ordered him into Division at 8:00 in the evening.

'I'm aware of the friendship between you and Almeida,' Hammond began. 'You ran CTU together for years; you developed a professional respect for the other's judgment. I think the two of you shared something beyond that respect. Your testimony at Almeida's trial tipped the balance in favor of his life sentence, and we're aware you never stopped petitioning President Palmer for his release. We know about your visit to him in prison using an old CTU card, the day after you were fired. I also know you released him from custody down in medical.' He held up a hand as Jack attempted to interrupt. 'You're not here for that indiscretion, Jack.'

'Why am I here?' Jack asked, impatient to be told the bad news. 'I don't work for CTU anymore as you might know, Brad! Did something happen to Tony?'

'Jack, we also happen to know you visited his family before. I need you to do so again, find out where he could be. They might have some clues, but their mouths are shut tight as clams and no one can get anything out of them.'

'Brad, you don't seriously expect me to ask them to betray their son?' Jack asked, unable to believe his ears. 'Why would they tell me anyway?'

'Because Tony's life is in grave danger if they don't,' Hammond replied, staring sternly at Jack. 'What I'm about to tell you stays in this room. Chloe already checked the information he hacked into, you're aware District has a mole.'

'I am,' Jack replied. 'I understood what he was looking for an hour after she checked his information, you could have seen it too, Brad.'

'We're not here to discuss Almeida's interrogation,' Hammond replied stiffly. 'Let me continue. The mole and other heads of District have sent out teams to find him. Whenever they do so, the mole will simply show up and one of his agents will have shot Tony, whilst he was attempting to escape, of course. We expect the mole would then take out the agents, pin that on Tony, and continue his clandestine operations. Now Mr. Hodgeson asked me to send some agents to shadow him and catch the mole, but no one has had any success locating him yet. It is imperative that we do so before the mole gets to him.'

'And you think Tony's parents would just tell me where he is likely to be if I ask nicely,' Jack said. 'They don't trust anyone from CTU.'

'So tell them a story, anything you like, except the truth,' Hammond told him. 'And Jack, I'm sending you down to Mexico. I want you to shadow Almeida, but let's get one thing very clear. No one must see you there, least of all Almeida, he's supposed to act natural or the mole's agents won't approach him.'

'You're playing with Tony's life,' Jack said, frowning mildly.

'National security takes precedence. He would approve too, if he had a choice,' Hammond told him. 'Now go see his parents, then get to Mexico. I'll be expecting your calls.'

'I'm on my way, but I need to know something, Brad. When this is over, will Tony be prosecuted for hacking into District?'

Hammond sighed and shook his head. 'That's most unlikely. Mr. Hodgeson seems to be impressed with him. He'll get away with an official reprimand.'

Jack nodded. 'Thank you, Brad. Tony's parents will be glad to know that.'

'You're lucky, Tony, the bullet didn't damage the bone,' the doctor told him, holding up a bullet. 'There you are - you can keep it if you like. Now I've got to clean up the area, but the worst is over.' He smiled reassuringly at Tony, who let out a sigh of relief. 'Feel better? Good. Now I need you to remain absolutely still, ok?'

'Sí,' he agreed, turning to watch the fish in the tank. You're doing great, Almeida! Another half hour or so, and you can go! It's almost over. The half hour appeared to stretch into infinity, but presently the doctor laid the needle down. 'It's over. Tony, look at me. I'm going to put that arm in a sling, and you're not to do anything with it for at least a week. Is that absolutely clear?'

'Sí,' he agreed, having felt the amount of work done to repair it.

'Señor Rosales, he mustn't attempt to use that arm.' The doctor threw Pedro a meaningful look.

Once Pedro saw him to the door Tony rose, folding the towels away. He carried them to the laundry and put them in the washing machine, and pushed open the door, stepping into a moonless night. Light from the house flooded the garden and he found the deck chair and sank into it, rubbing his face. You made it. It's ok now. He took deep breaths, pulling himself together.

The sliding door slid open and Pedro followed him outside, shaking his head. 'That's a brave agent, ah, Tony?' He laughed aloud. 'I was worried he would have to put you under. You looked terrified.'

'You know what, Pedro,' Tony replied, his face flushing. 'You're right. I was worried about it, and so would you have been, if he was cutting your arm open. But I got through it, so you saved your 200 dollars! Now do me a favor, leave me alone for a bit, ok?'

'Sí,' Pedro agreed. 'Whatever you say, cousin. I just thought maybe you'd like to sleep inside, on a mattress, rather than out here. It will get quite cold later, and the mosquitoes are already out.'

Tony turned to face him, nodding his head. 'You're right.' He slapped at a mosquito on his face. 'Damn these things. I'd be real grateful for a bed, Pedro.'

Pedro held the door open and he stepped inside, sick with relief. He had spent the daylight hours he had been forced to remain concealed dreading the inevitable surgery on his arm, and it was over now.

Pedro led him up the stairs and along the landing, into a small spare room. A light blue cover with a matching pillowcase draped the single bed, and the blinds were open, showing a view of the center of town far in the distance. Tony opened his mouth to thank his cousin, but before he could speak Pedro had pulled open the cupboard, withdrawing a ladder. He opened it and climbed up to push open the attic, calling to Tony to follow him. Tony sighed, glancing longing round the inviting room before he climbed the ladder, emerging into a dark attic.

'It's insulated, so you won't feel too cold,' Pedro told him. 'There's a mattress on the floor there, I'll get you some sheets and a blanket. You look a little tired, you should start getting ready for bed.'

'So who's going to sleep downstairs?' Tony questioned bitterly, pulling off his t-shirt with difficulty as his arm was in a sling.

'No one at the moment. That's my guest bedroom, Tony, and you're certainly not a guest. You work for me now; you owe me 17 dollars already, for the doctor and the lunch. Come on, don't give me that look' he snapped, seeing Tony's face. 'Count yourself lucky I found you a sheltered spot. The rest of the men live in sheds, or on the building sites. Now is there anything else you need tonight?'

'Yeah,' Tony muttered, removing his shoes. 'A toothbrush, paste, and a comb. You can take it off my pay!'

'I will. Buenas noches, Tony.'

'Buenas noches.' Tony removed his trousers and settled on the mattress, waiting for the sheets. And if you ever come to LA, Pedro, I might be nice and find you a spot to sleep in the garage, between our cars. Or wait, it's a little crowded there. Maybe there'd be more room in the shed! He was still fuming five minutes later when Pedro returned with the things. Placing the sheets and blanket on the mattress one handed proved challenging. Pedro watched while he struggled, nodding his head at the entrance.

'I put your stuff in the bathroom.' He turned to go, leaving Tony alone in the silent attic.