Bright sunlight reflected off white stone blinded Tony as they emerged into the tiny courtyard. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to place his hands over them as they were cuffed securely behind his back. Instead he turned his face downwards, giving himself a few seconds to adjust.

A large black van stood outside the door and he was pushed over to it. 'Get inside, Almeida. Mr. Alvarez thanks for all your help.'

Miguel threw him an encouraging nod and laid a hand on his phone, letting him know he would contact Jack and tell him where they were headed. Tony nodded back, resolved to call and thank him should everything work according to plan.

An agent pushed Tony firmly onto the seat and pulled out two more cuffs with which he restrained him. Tony chewed his lip, forcing himself to sit passively while his feet were shackled to two iron rings on the floor. He ignored a strong urge to lash out and tear his restraints apart and run as far as he could, knowing he had to allow his capture to discover the mole. You'll behave real well, Almeida, right up until someone tries to shoot you. Then you better get some names quick! He wondered which of the agents was entrusted with murdering him and how he planned to carry it out, surrounded by all the others.

Agent Andrews settled opposite him and the door was slammed shut on them, leaving them all in semi darkness. 'Let me warn you, Almeida, try anything at all, you'll regret it,' Andrews told him, a challenge in his tone. 'I know all about your tendency to leave custody. You won't leave mine alive.' Tony remained silent, head bowed, feeling the van start up. Doors were slammed and it gathered speed, jolting him as it sped over dozens of ill repaired holes. He struggled to remember the location of the nearest airfield. The town he was in didn't sport anything remotely like a landing field but Chihuahua certainly did. It would give him around an hour before he would be forced to attempt to flee.

A blow to his arm shocked him back to the present and he gasped in pain, instinctively moving his wrists to rub the ache. Chains clanged as his cuffs tightened, held in place by the iron rings. He let out a deep breath and raised his eyes, seeing Andrews' smirk.

'That woke you up, Almeida? I thought it might. I expect your full attention when I address you. Is that clear?'

'Yeah,' Tony muttered, glaring at him.

'Good. Now I want you to repeat my warning. What did I just tell you?'

'That you want my full attention when you speak,' Tony repeated, unable to protect himself from the descending rifle butt. Once again his right arm was struck, inches away from his wound. 'Dammit, Andrews, what's your game? You touch me again, my lawyer will file a complaint and you'll be suspended!'

'Is that so?' Andrews inquired, raising the rifle a third time. It connected with Tony's arm harder than on the previous occasions, directly above the healing wound. Tears of pain filled his eyes, while he struggled to keep silent, chewing his upper lip. 'You hear him threatening me? Just what kinda rights do you think you still got, Almeida? You betrayed us all, damn you to hell. My friend was captured, you bastard and he's missing. Hopefully they killed him by now. You're gonna pay for it you know, for every one of those agents you sent to their deaths. You're gonna fry!'

Tony gazed at the ground, his heart sinking. This man would beat him to within an inch of consciousness before they even reached the plane, justifiably outraged over the compromised agents. Come on Jack, I could use your help around now.

'They said you knew one of them, Ben Green. You worked with him at CTU and now you blew his cover. He's dead.' Once again the rifle descended, this time on his head. The ferocity of the blow knocked him sideways, the agent beside him pushing him back into an upright position while the van spun sickening around him. Tony tasted blood where he had bitten his tongue and swallowed it down, not daring to spit it on the floor. Ben's dead! Oh God, he didn't deserve that. He was real decent when I started at CTU, helping me out and even covering for me once when I was a little late and Chappelle visited the place.

'You don't give a damn about anyone, do you?' the outraged Andrews continued. 'And now you're going home and you'll get a fair trial and a nice cozy prison cell in return for your cooperation! You'll get cable TV, a swimming pool, and if anyone lays a hand on you, you'll call your lawyer. What the hell rights do you think those agents are gonna receive?' Tony turned his face away, closing his eyes as the rifle swung at him sideways, raising a bruise along his forehead. 'Not many, I guess! And I'm gonna forget about yours, too. You better pray this plane doesn't get delayed. I don't care if they suspend me, I'll resign first!'

You got a real weird idea of prison, Andrews. An uneasy thought crossed his mind. Would it be Andrews who would kill him, having five agents testify that he was mentally distressed over his friend's capture? It was possible, but he doubted it. He would hardly beat him so hard if he expected to kill him later. His behavior showed he fully expected Tony to evade his due punishment and his burning eyes showed his indignation. So if not you, then who? The other agents watched without comment, unwilling to intervene.

'What have you got to say for yourself, Almeida?'

Tony turned away, the shadow of the rifle warning him seconds before it slammed into his ribs. His breath was knocked out of him and he struggled for air, feeling himself pushed backwards by the same agent.

'I'm warning you, Almeida. Gimme a reason a man would care so little about someone they said was his friend?'

Tony raised his head and returned Andrews' gaze. 'I didn't betray anyone. You want it to stop, you better find the real culprit.'

'Bloody liar! You think that will save you?' yelled Andrews, raising the rifle again.

'He's had enough, Andrews,' protested the agent into whom he kept sliding. 'I'm sure they wanna interrogate him, he'll get what he's due there.'

'Not for long enough,' muttered Andrews, hate in his eyes. 'Stay outa this, Miller!' Tony caught the shadow of the rifle raised again, bracing himself.

'They're transferring him to the airport,' Bill told her, putting his head into her office. 'He should be on the plane within two hours and home by 14:00. Just thought you'd like to know.'

'Bill, wait,' Michelle called, standing up in a hurry. 'Who's in charge of collecting him?'

'Agent Andrews from Division. He's got an impeccable record; you've no need to worry. He'll bring Tony back alright.'

Michelle thanked him again and sat back down before she gave in to her urge to pace the room. Never had she felt more helpless. She tried searching for Andrews' latest assignment but found nothing. Tony would have a coffee were he waiting for news from a mission. Her hands felt along the desk and closed round the Cubs mug which she had taken to work with her since Tony's disappearance for reasons she was unclear about herself. Who are you kidding, Michelle? You brought it with you again to feel closer to him. You always drink from his mug when he's away, it's like a silent plea from him to return and repossess it. Clutching the handle tighter in her hands she squeezed her eyes shut, unable to prevent the picture of Hammond sitting in Tony's office while he was held prisoner in the holding room after the virus outbreak.

'They're in a box. Kim put it by your locker,' Chloe informed her as she stumbled round CTU dazed.

'What?' she managed to ask. They've taken Tony; they've taken him to prison!

'His things,' Chloe told her a little more tactfully than usual. 'Hammond didn't want them. He cleared all Tony's stuff in a box. I don't think he'll be allowed to keep them in jail so you might as well take them home. It could help you remember him!'

'Shut up, Chloe,' she'd cried in despair. 'I don't need his stuff to remind me of him, he'll be home soon. They'll release him!' She rushed to her locker, hating the pitying look Chloe had given her and found a brown cardboard box lying on the floor. Collapsing beside it she pulled out his treasured items thrown inside so carelessly. On the top she found a photo of them on their honeymoon, arms wrapped round each other. Below that lay his favorite grey sweater which he often changed into when he was forced to work late at night. Underneath that she discovered several more photos of herself taken just before she moved in with him, a few of which she hadn't seen before. Seeing her insanely happy look made the tears flow harder, blinding her to the remaining item at the bottom of the box. Her fingers groped for it and she pulled a cold shape out, wrapping her hands round a handle before she guessed what it could be and let out a loud sob. 'He's gonna need this.'

'He needs this Jack, I got to get it to him,' she sobbed in the rec room where Jack had discovered her sitting on a couch with her knees drawn up to her chin, clutching the mug to her stomach. 'He always drinks his coffee from this. We got to take it to him. You know the warden, tell him Tony's got to have it…'

Jack had slipped his arm around her. 'You know they're never going to allow a mug inside federal,' he told her. 'Take it home, Michelle. Hey, I'll do everything I can to get him out. He'll use it again, ok.'

'Be careful, Tony,' she whispered, clutching the mug to her again. 'Please be careful.'

'From the look in his eyes, you'd better hurry,' Miguel said. 'He's gonna deal with Tony long before they reach that plane.'

'I'm on my way,' Jack promised, watching the road ahead of him. 'It would really help if you could give me a precise location.'

'Well, you're in luck there. I put a tracker on the van,' Miguel told him. 'They're about 150 miles from the airfield, which they should approach without the need to cross town. Right now they're approaching the Conchos River. Hold on, they're stopping. How far are you?'

'Five minutes away,' Jack answered. 'You might wanna send an ambulance this way, just in case.'

Tony was pushed out, landing face forwards in the weeds at the edge of the road. His stomach heaved again, even as his body registered the pain from the fall. 'Watch him,' Andrews said, his voice floating over as he retched. The remainder of his breakfast poured out of him while he gasped for breath, shivering despite the heat. His head ached, his ribs hurt and his stomach had a sharp pain which refused to leave, while his arm throbbed. For an awful moment he struggled with his tears, refusing to allow any to drop.

'Get some of those weeds and clean out the floor,' snapped Andrews' voice, clearer now that he had pulled himself together. 'The place stinks!'

'Sir, you kinda asked for it,' one younger agent replied, pulling armfuls of weeds out and passing them into the van. 'You shouldn't have bashed his stomach that often.'

'I don't recall asking for your opinion, Abel. Now get inside and clean the place. Who's watching Almeida?'

'I am,' Miller called, standing a few feet away, his gun trained on Tony. 'He's ok now, sir.'

'No he's not,' Andrews exclaimed, moving over to give him a final kick. Tony fell forwards, unable to prevent his fall without the use of his hands. 'He stinks. Clean him up a bit in that river, he'll never be allowed on the plane!'

'Yes sir,' Miller said, reaching forward to haul Tony to his feet. 'You heard him, Almeida. I'm gonna need Abel and Garrison as back-up in case he tries anything.'

'You got it,' Andrews called, watching as the two agents surrounded Tony. 'Not that he's in a condition to run for it, but we won't take any chances. Just throw him in a couple of times.'

'Move it Almeida, straight ahead,' Miller ordered and Tony stumbled over to the river, finding himself pushed inside. 'Get in. No further.' Miller grabbed his hair and pushed him under, holding him a few seconds before pulling him up. He examined the prisoner critically before pushing him back.

'Keep him under a bit longer,' Andrews remarked, joining them on the bank. Tony took a shuddering breath of air, wondering how long he would be required to hold it as he was again pushed under. His last sight was of the clear blue sky and green water plants before his eyes shut. Shots rang out while he was submerged and he struggled to free himself vehemently.

He found himself released as he sat up, gasping for air. Abel and Garrison lay dead beside him, their brains blown away and Andrews lay on the ground, clutching his neck. It's beginning. Three agents are down Almeida, watch out. Most likely the rest are out to kill you. He crawled behind a group of reeds, hauled out moments later by another agent who had watched the executions from further along the shore. 'We got him, Miller. You take out the rest?'

'Yes, they're dead.' Miller returned, forcing Tony to his knees. 'Keep him there.'

Looks like you got a little respect! They sent four assassins, Almeida! He struggled in the agents' grip, desperate to free himself and discover the name of the mole that had sent them. Being murdered on the highway would solve nothing for CTU, quite apart from that fact that he wanted to live. His desire to live was stronger than at any previous critical time. He had been pardoned for treason and Michelle had waited for him. It really wasn't the time to be killed.

Two agents cuffed his arms around a tree as Miller took a step backwards, snapped an order to the other agents to return to the van and raised his gun. 'God help me,' Tony whispered, hearing a shot ring out. He wondered why he heard it at all, knowing he shouldn't have, before he saw Miller topple forwards.

'Jack, watch out, there's more in the van,' he yelled, a fraction too late. Another shot rang out and his friend fell forwards, surrounded by the two concealed agents.

'Is he dead?'

Tony's heart twisted as he waited for the answer, held forcibly in place by his cuffs. In one instant Jack rose, shooting both of them while Tony watched, praying aloud for success. 'Jack, Cedric's gone,' he shouted, struggling with his cuffs. 'He ran that way, downriver.'

Jack sank down, his face twisting in pain. 'Jack, are you ok?' Tony demanded, struggling harder.

'Stay where you are Tony, I'll release you,' Jack told him, crawling over to Andrews to collect a key. He made it over to Tony on hands and knees, and Tony slid lower to enable him to unlock the cuffs.

'Jack, you're hurt. Lemme see.'

Jack shook his head. 'Just go, Tony. Agent Cedric's out there, he'll call for back-up and we're no wiser. You've got to keep going.'

'I can't leave you,' Tony protested, pulling up Jack's t-shirt. 'It's in your shoulder, there's no exit wound.'

Jack gave an angry exclamation. 'Dammit Tony, the ambulance is already on the way. National security is more important than my life, now go!'

'You've just joined their hit list,' Tony told him, reaching forward to pick up a gun. 'They'll say you came to help me, they're gonna take you back home in cuffs, they'll…'

'I know all that,' Jack told him, allowing Tony to prop him against a tree. 'Tony, they'll call me a rogue agent, I've been called that before. I'll be fine; I'll spend a little time in a hospital. They don't have anything else on me except that I helped an old friend, so don't worry, they won't try to shoot me. I'm sorry, ok.'

'For what?' Tony asked, wrapping a make-shift bandage round his shoulder. 'You just saved my life.'

'For being unable to help you any further. We don't know who sent Miller, but… Tony, wait a minute.' Jack grabbed his arm and Tony settled next to him. 'Cedric'll call his boss. The mole might even get worried now, if he's not sure how much I know and when you'll surface and talk. He might come take charge of your capture personally this time. Disappear in some wilderness where you can keep your eyes open and make certain you leave a few tracks. Give me a coupla days to recover from this and I'll track whoever comes after you. You got it, Tony? They've got to be able to track you, but not right away. Take care.'

'Oh, I will. I kinda hoped it would all be over today, but…' He shrugged. 'I'm going west, Jack. There's a large wilderness area there, he'll take a while to track me and hopefully you can trace the leaks to him while he's occupied. It would help if you'd have access to Cedric's phone.'

Tony got up and returned to the river, carrying Andrews back with him. 'He got a bullet in the neck, he's still alive. Can you keep pressure there till the ambulance arrives?'

Jack nodded, waving his hand at the river. 'Go Tony, or you'll be recaptured and the mole will go free. We're fine.'

Tony nodded and placed the gun in the holster he put on. 'Good luck, Jack.'

'You too,' Jack answered, his fingers tight on Andrews' neck. 'And be real careful, Tony. They might not listen to me, so you'll find yourself blamed for these murders as well.'

'Yeah,' Tony said, getting up and stumbling away, forcing his sore body to move fast. The river turned and he walked into it following it along, determined to lose any trackers. This is never gonna be over. Now Jack is hurt and you're totally alone. You're wanted for just about every crime under the sun, you've got half a million dollars on your head and a dangerous agent who's determined to kill you. Whatever you do, lie low!

The sun shone directly above him as he walked and he longed for the hat he had left behind in Pedro's house. Soon he pulled his sweater off and tied it round his waist, stopping to drink a little water. He wondered whether the water was drinkable, but there was little other choice. Tony estimated half an hour before a massive man hunt would begin with himself as the target and he determined to put as much distance between the dead agents and himself as possible. Birds sang around him as hurried startling him with their sudden cries. Focus, Almeida. Sure this resembles a place you'd have gone to on family picnics, but you're not here for that now. Right now you got to keep moving and buy Jack a little time to discover who sent those agents after you. Chances are, they'll need to track you down again before any concrete evidence can be pinned on someone.

A distant hum shattered the peace and he paused, listening. 'Helicopters,' he muttered in despair to a water bird arranging its feathers. Tony glanced round hurriedly for a place to conceal himself, coming up blank. His training kicked in automatically and he grabbed a reed, sucking air through it. Satisfied it would double as a straw he waded into a deeper part of the river, surrounded by hundreds of reeds and lay on the riverbed, his pipeline one among a crowd. Easy Almeida, there'll be men on the ground and probably dogs too. Stay put and don't move! You've been trained to spend hours this way, you've done it before. He had really, though things hadn't worked perfectly the first time. He sucked steadily on the straw, too exhausted to grin at the memory of himself years ago, a few weeks into Marine training, when Sergeant Wills had taken the platoon out to an exposed field and yelled that their cover had been blown, they were to conceal themselves on the double! He had glanced around, drawing the full wrath of the impatient instructor. "Where the hell are you looking, Almeida? The wrong place, as usual! You're to take a reed, breath through it and hide in the lake. The water's not real clean," he had added unnecessarily, "don't drink any! Move it!" Tony had hesitated a second longer than the rest, amazed to hear the weed covered pond referred to as a 'lake.' Sergeant Wills had grabbed him from behind and had given him a vicious push, shaking his head as he had fallen in. "Right away, Almeida!" He had waded in, picked a reed and settled on the ground, shuddering in disgust at the slime around him at the murky bottom, only to discover that he had chosen a defective reed, one that appeared blocked. He had been forced to sit up and pick another, and his sergeant had been less than impressed. "You've messed up again, Almeida!" he had howled, his face so furious that Tony refrained from reminding him that he had not in fact missed a step all day. "You mess with me, I'll mess with you! Now get back inside!" He had managed to conceal himself the second time, though it hadn't saved him from scrubbing the kitchen floor that evening.

The water moved all around him and he froze, not daring to move a muscle. Careful Almeida, they're here in the river, searching for you, quite a few of them judging by the amount of mud they're stirring up. Scrubbing the kitchen floor with a nailbrush was child's play compared to what they'll do to you if they catch you. You are after all wanted for murder as well as everything else.

Tony pressed his eyes shut to prevent them being filled with mud and listened carefully, feeling the water wash against him. Dogs barked in the distance and men swore as they moved past him. Easy, they're going. Just stay put for a coupla minutes. You're doing great. He felt another few waves rock him as boots walked past mere feet away, stirring up the riverbed, waking something that had lain a few feet further down. A soft slime moved against his foot, a water weed, he hoped, learning seconds later that it was nothing of the kind. Tony breathed a little harder through his reed, the only indication of the pain of a dozen leeches latching onto his feet and drawing first blood.

'We're wasting our time. Almeida's not here,' stated a voice on the shore, opposite him.

That's right, I'm not! Please go.

'So where did he leave the river? The dogs failed to pick up any scent. He's here, alright.'

'Is he? I don't see anyone, do you? We don't even know which way he went. Let the helicopter keep searching, let's go.'

'Ok, listen up. River opens wider a kilometer further down, he's probably there. Search it. And there's a backwater just nearby, I want two of you down it with a few dogs. The rest of you keep searching the river. He's here somewhere and everyone, be careful. He just shot three Americans in cold blood. He's got military training, he's been to war, he'll kill you within seconds if you miss him. Don't attempt to capture him. Remember the American's order? I want to hear it.'

'Shoot to kill,' echoed dozens of voices.

'Sí, so do so. They want a body by tonight, their plane is waiting.'