The eerie silence of the holding room threatened to crush the life out of Tony as he sat on the plastic chair, elbows on the table, head in his hands. Disconcerted by the lack of noise he considered his options and discarded them both. You're up to your neck in this, Almeida. He rubbed his face vigorously in a vain attempt to calm himself. Focus, Almeida. You've faced the no win scenario before and managed to get yourself and your men out of it. Think hard. Clarissa's words echoed back to him. "You sold us out. People are going to be deported because of you…You're worse than the gringos, you're their lapdog! You saw what we went through to get here; doesn't that mean anything to you?" His heart ached and he ran his hands along his forehead, wincing with the unexpected pain the friction caused. "Don't ever come near us again!" Hot tears filled his eyes which he blinked away furiously. "You deserve to be fired for your actions, Almeida. That was direct insubordination…" "I'll have you prosecuted for holding up a government investigation. You will go to prison." He wiped moist fingers into his trousers, trembling. "I brought my house. Can we bring it?" "We've all got our secrets, Tony. I love you." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Don't ever come near us again…" Chewing his lip so hard it bled he rose from the chair and paced the narrow room. "I'm ready to talk now, you bastards. Give my men water." "They're gonna find out I told them shit real soon." He sank back onto his chair as the door opened, admitting Hammond.

'You ready to cooperate with the investigation, Almeida?' he demanded.

'Sir, I assure you I'll do everything I can, but I'm not sure of the location of that book,' he pleaded.

Hammond's eyes turned colder. 'I see. I thought you might need something to help your shocking memory. Look through these and pick one. They're essentially similar but they do contain minor variations in their daily routines. Don't worry, Almeida, I'll give you fifteen minutes to choose. After all, you'll be spending the better part of your life there.' He laid two black and white booklets on the table in front of him. 'Take your time.'

Filled with foreboding he turned the booklets over, the blood freezing in his veins. Both contained pictures of prisons on their covers, one showing a prison complex from the air, the other sporting an even more nerve racking picture of the inside of a block with five rows of cells surrounded by a narrow tier, every door locked. The blood rushed to his head as he read their names. God help me. I can't end up there. Once again he buried his head in his hands, welcoming the sharp sting as they took its weight.

You got an awful decision to make, Almeida. Whatever you choose, you'll be hated for the rest of your life. How the hell can you decide what to do? He rubbed his face in despair. There's only one logical way to decide this, Almeida! Who would be hurt more by your actions? Glancing at the table he saw himself held down by a group of militants in another dismal mission. "American dog, I will teach you about coming here and destroying my country." A shiver went through him as he relived being dragged outside the stone building and thrown into the village square surrounded by bearded men carrying stones. The translator threw the first one at him which he successfully dodged, hearing the echoing roar of the men as they hauled their own stones. "You tell us where the attack will take place, American, and I'll let you live." He had shaken his head, praying for a quick death. I can't give up my career and my freedom. I've earned this position! I've NEVER let anyone down before! Once again the faces of the people on the truck came to him. "You don't need to be scared, Clarissa. I'm here, I'll help you." So who would suffer more, Almeida? Blanca nearly died getting here. If they get deported they'll only try again, using more risky methods as they're out of cash! And they WILL get picked up sooner or later if you find that book. Their names will be entered on the INS database and someday, somewhere, once they're settled, they'll get picked up. Are you really prepared to ruin their lives, look them in the eye as they get rounded up? Did they harm anyone? You'd be the only one to suffer if they got to stay. He bowed his head, breathing slowly before he straightened and pulled the documents closer, opening the nearer one.

His door opened and someone strode purposefully to the opposite chair. 'What the hell are you doing, Tony?' snapped a familiar voice expressing its customary indignation. Tony glanced up in silent relief. 'Give me that.' Jack reached for the untouched document and shook his head. 'I'll take those. Now Tony, I'm guessing you don't desire to visit either place.'

He shook his head in silent misery.

'Then why won't you show Hammond the book? It's all he needs.'

'I'm not real sure where it is,' Tony said softly, his mind numb.

'I think you'd find it soon enough if you went over his office,' Jack said. 'Go find it, Tony. You're already suspended for a month. I need you back after that.'

Tony blinked rapidly before he dared look up. 'I can't do that.'

Jack sighed aloud. Now he's gonna blast you, Almeida. 'You're sorry for the people you got to know while you were undercover, right?'

Tony inclined his head, praying for a reprieve.

'I'm guessing we've already got plenty of people with identical surnames in this country legally,' Jack said quietly. 'I don't think you gotta worry, Tony.'

'But those on the nearby properties will be arrested,' he said softly. 'Jack, I saw how they lived. You better hand those leaflets back to me.'

Jack exhaled sharply. 'Think about it for a moment, would you. Do you seriously imagine they're still there after the raid on Christianson's farm? I'm guessing they used this opportunity to run for their lives. Go do your job, Tony.'

Tony studied him in silence, his thoughts spinning. The door opened again and Hammond returned, frowning at Jack. 'He's supposed to be alone, Jack. You picked a place, Almeida?'

'Brad, Tony's willing to help you,' Jack assured him, getting up to face Hammond. 'He'll find that book – I give you my word. Come on, I'll drive you.' Without another word he held the door open, returning both leaflets to the outraged Hammond. Tony pushed himself up, gasping in pain. He slipped past Hammond without glancing at him and followed Jack outside and across the car park. The sea breeze never felt as refreshing as it did ruffling his hair.

Jack glanced compassionately at the silent agent beside him on the drive. The man's clenched fists were white and his mouth was set in a tight line, highlighted by his somber dark eyes. 'Wanna give me directions?' he asked as he turned off the highway. Tony replied in monosyllables, guiding him over to the gate. Without a word he climbed out of the car and opened it, the rigid mask never leaving his face. 'Where's the main house?'

'Up ahead,' he muttered as he climbed back in. The place crawled with LAPD as they parked. Jack showed his ID and entered the house curiously. 'Quite a large place,' he remarked, his eyes roving the long corridors. 'Where's his office?'

Tony pushed past him and set off at a rapid pace needing a moment to compose himself. He was grateful to Jack for saving him from Hammond but was unable to dispel a lingering resentment at having been forced on the mission. He opened a sturdy wooden door and moved across the room where he rested his head against the glass. Focus Almeida. You gotta locate this book if you want a hope of seeing Clarissa again. You got things to give her, you'd better hurry.

'If you'd describe it,' Jack suggested patiently.

Tony turned back and nodded. 'It was a simple grey exercise book, the kind kids take to school. I saw him put it away when I worked outside his window.' Slowly he moved over to the ransacked cupboard and knelt down, the parquet hard under his knees. He glanced round at Jack who stood over him. 'Got a knife?' Jack handed him one and he pushed it between two pieces of wood, pulling one up. 'It's in here. You wanna go check what those cops are doing for a moment?' Jack threw him a stern look and left the room, holding up three fingers. He opened the book rapidly, running his eyes across the list of names until he discovered Clarissa's. Carefully he removed the sheet from the book, folding the clips back. He slid the folded sheet inside his jeans pocket and tiptoed to the door. Jack appeared busy discussing something with a police captain slightly out of earshot. He opened the book again, sitting at Christianson's desk to examine it in detail. Name, surname, date and place of birth. Not that much to go on, really. None of these names stand out in any way…

Jack returned, glancing at him, moving to the desk when he nodded. He held out his hand and Tony deposited the fat grey exercise book into it. 'Am I free to go now? There's some stuff I need to collect.'

'Yeah. Thanks Tony, you did the right thing.'

Tony paused in the doorway, throwing him a doubtful look before he turned and slipped silently from the room. Jack settled at the smuggler's desk and opened it, reading the list of names aloud in a soft murmur.

The hut appeared deserted as he approached. Tony chewed his lower lip; aware Clarissa was no longer there to welcome him and took a deep breath as he entered it for the final time. You never got round to washing the windows! Slowly he took a step forward and sank onto a kitchen chair. The urge to bury his head in his hands proved overwhelming and he allowed himself to curse fate, having thrown him together with a real friend and so cruelly ripped their friendship apart. A few minutes later he rose, determined to collect his things before any agents arrived to search the place. He threw the clothes on the line into his backpack and glanced through the blankets, discovering one of Clarissa's t-shirts and a toy armchair. Heart aching, he slipped them on top of his things and bent to collect his guitar. Don't pretend you'll miss this dump! He knew he wouldn't, he would miss the friendship he had formed within it.

'Is this where you stayed?' Jack inquired, stepping through the open doorway. Tony gave a slight nod and climbed the ladder to the attic, lifting the hatch. He pulled himself up and felt for the phone and the bundle of money, handing them down to his boss.

'It's all there, Jack, apart from the 5000 dollars I paid him, which you'll find listed in the book.'

Jack stared at the money in his palm. 'I didn't doubt you, Tony,' he told his subordinate.

'Count it,' Tony insisted, pulling a chair out by its back legs and thrusting it at him. 'I don't wanna hear about thieving Latinos in the future. I didn't waste a dollar!' Eyes narrowed and lips pressed together he remained motionless while Jack counted it all out on the kitchen table. 'I need a receipt now!'

Jack glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes before he nodded and tore an empty page from the exercise book. 'There you go, Tony. Look, I know Hammond gave you a hard time over at Division, but…'

'But I'll deal with it,' Tony interrupted, heaving his backpack onto his shoulders. 'Now if I'm not required for anything further, I'd like to go home.' Their eyes met, Tony forcing his anxiety aside.

'Sure,' Jack agreed, getting up. 'I'll call you at home if I need anything further. Good luck,' he said quietly, aware of the approach of Hammond who puffed as he crossed the field.

'Where's the book, Almeida?' he demanded, blocking their exit. 'You were supposed to wait for me in the house.'

'I got it, Brad,' Jack assured him, handing it over. 'Tony, take Jones's car, he can ride back with the rest of the agents when they're done. Just return it to CTU.'

Tony thanked him and walked past Hammond avoiding his gaze, not trusting himself to remain silent. 'Not so fast, Almeida. You'll leave when I dismiss you!' Hammond leafed through the book studying the names and dates in minute detail. After leafing through the entire exercise book he reluctantly raised his eyes. 'It appears detailed enough. You may go now.' Tony stepped forward. 'Wait a moment.' Hammond moved closer to him, his eyes boring into the depths of his soul. 'This better be the complete record, Almeida, otherwise you will join Luis Torres. He didn't exactly last long once we established law and order! How long was he a citizen of this country? Three months? Four?' Fingers clasped round the book he strode from the room, leaving him shaking in silent rage.

'Who the hell's that?' Jack demanded, eyeing Tony's white fingers grasping his rifle warily, determined to protect Hammond from a bullet in the back. Tony refused to reply, working off his rage by slamming his fist into the wall with full strength, raising a crack along a plank. He hissed aloud in pain from his injured hand, burying his head in the wall. 'Tony, don't make me repeat my question. Who the hell's Torres? I never heard of him.'

Tony turned to face him, raised his eyebrows and pinned him with a sarcastic glare. 'You don't need to concern yourself about him, Jack. He can't hurt you anymore.'

Jack's patience snapped and he raised his index finger, shoving it into Tony's face. 'You tell me right now, Tony. That's an order!'

'Fine,' Tony snapped back, taking a deep breath. 'He was one of my ancestors, right, from Texas. He owned a ranch with thousands of head of cattle. His neighbors envied him his land; they kept paying bandits to raid his herds. Torres failed to find justice in the local courts, so one day, once he was pushed beyond his limit, he rounded up his own men, raided that guy's property, drove off 2000 head of cattle right over the Rio Grande and sold the whole lot of 'em at bargain price to a guy heading south that same day. Smith, the neighbor, sent the Texas Rangers after him. They picked him up, brought him back and locked him in the local jail, where he was tried and hanged the same day! Satisfied now?'

Jack gazed at him bewildered. 'I'm real sorry, Tony. Hammond had no right bringing it up. Look, take it easy during this month, ok? I want you back focused.'

Tony nodded and walked to the main house, praying he would avoid a second meeting with Hammond. To his relief the grounds appeared deserted, enabling him to get into the CTU car and leave. He drove over to his sister's house as fast as he could and unlocked the door, failing to push his hope away. Maybe she's forgiven you, Almeida. One look at her tight lips showed him otherwise. She avoided his eyes as he closed the door softly behind him.

Blanca raced into his arms and he swung her up, carrying her into the family room. 'I found something,' he told her, handing her the missing armchair. She wrapped her arms round his neck and he laid his cheek close to hers. 'Your flight leaves in two hours. I'll give Blanca a bath,' he said quietly, carrying her upstairs without waiting for an objection.

'This is a beautiful house,' the child told him as he filled the bath and undressed her. 'Your sister must be very rich.'

'Her husband is,' he replied, adding a little bubble bath. 'I'll be right back.' He moved into Sandy's room and opened her closet, selecting a green dress he had bought for her a year ago that she had grown out of. 'What do you think of this, princess?'

'It's lovely,' she cried in pure joy and he dried her, putting it on.

'It'll be perfect for your first flight,' he told her smiling at her. 'Blanca, I need you to do something for me.'

The child nodded and he withdrew an envelope from his pocket. 'Your mama's a little cross with me right now, so I can't give this to her. Will you do that for me once you get on the plane?' She nodded again, placing the envelope into the dress's pocket.

'Did you do something bad, Tony?' she asked as he opened the cabinet and withdrew a hairbrush and butterfly clip. 'Mama's not talking to you.'

He nodded gently, brushing the tangles from her hair the same way he tidied his own niece whenever she spent the weekend with him. 'I did. She'll forgive me one day, but it won't be for a while. We still friends?' he asked causally. The child nodded and gave him a hug which he returned, pulling her tightly towards him. 'I wrote my address and phone number down there, princess. If you or your mama need anything, I want you to call me. Anytime, ok?'

She nodded again and he carried her out, depositing her on the couch. Clarissa glanced at her startled before glaring at him. 'I don't need charity, Tony!'

'Sandy's grown out of it,' he assured her, noting the fury in her eyes. 'We got a few minutes before it's time to go.' Avoiding her gaze he moved to the bookcase and lifted a small children's book down, taking Blanca in his arms. 'You ever heard of Chicken Licken, princess? It's my niece's favorite story. You listen quietly and I'll read it to you.' He read slowly, explaining the beginning in Spanish, amazed to note how soon she caught on, repeating the string of birds with loud giggles. He risked a glance at Clarissa, regretting it as her eyes flashed with fury. 'We should go now.'

The trip to the airport appeared to last forever as it passed in uncomfortable silence. Blanca sat at the back clutching her house, glancing from one rigid back to the other. He breathed a sigh of relief as they arrived and he carried their stuff over to the counter. Clarissa claimed their tickets and he led them further inside the building. 'How do you know the way, Tony?' Blanca pressed, her hand gripping his trustingly.

'He's been here before,' Clarissa told her. 'We'll be alright from here, Tony. You can leave now. Thanks for the tickets, but I guess I paid for them.'

Tony gasped as the blood rushed to his face. He shook his head blinking hot tears away and reached for her hand. 'The tickets are a gift. I want you to know something, Clarissa. You're the best friend I ever had. What we had was real – I kinda hoped it would be permanent.' He tightened his grip on her fingers, giving it a gentle squeeze for goodbye. 'Good luck,' he said, ruffling the child's hair before he turned and strode away, his heart threatening to burst. Once he rounded a corner he paused, staring through the window at the row of airplanes along the side of the building. Chewing his lip he turned and retraced his steps, using his skills to track them until they boarded their flight, determined to make certain they remained undetected. Forehead pressed against the glass window he watched their plane taxi to the runway, pause a couple of seconds and begin its run, gathering speed until the front wheels lifted off the tarmac and the plane rose steadily into the cloudless sky. He was certain he would never see either of them again.

He moved through the throng of passengers and returned to the car, aware he had a lot of things that required his attention that evening but unable to pick up his life. Head in his hands he allowed his eyes to roam the car park while he sat immobile. It took almost superhuman effort to start the car and return it to CTU. Jack met him as he handed the keys over, telling him something about the neighboring farms having been found deserted. The bus ride towards his parents' house passed in a blur and he was grateful for the twenty minute walk that faced him, knowing he needed the time to compose himself if he had a hope of asking for his car in anything resembling his normal tone. She'll be sitting beside Blanca on the plane, eating. He wondered whether she thought of him.

'Sweetheart, what happened?' his mother cried, drawing him into her arms as she took one look at him standing in the door, shoulders slumped in defeat. He shook his head rapidly and opened his mouth to assure her he was fine but the words refused to be forced out. A sob left him instead as he buried his face in her shoulder.

Mercifully they had the house to themselves. Tony allowed her to lead him inside and sit him on the couch and accepted the glass of warm milk she handed him moments later. He sat beside her wordless, sipping his drink and struggling to force thoughts of the plane from his mind. 'I need my car,' he explained half an hour later, unsurprised to find the room dim.

His mother shook her head. 'You're in no condition to return to your apartment tonight, sweetheart. You're staying here. It's ok; Joey and Maria are at a party. You'll eat with us.'

Lacking the necessary energy to disagree Tony gave a slight nod, watching her start dinner in the kitchen without making a move to turn on the lights. The room had never been as silent as he sat by himself. 'I'm never gonna have what you guys got,' he muttered when his mother looked in on him. He sighed heavily, aware she needed an explanation. 'I met someone while I was undercover. She was smart, funny; she was a real good friend. She hates me now.'

'Oh sweetheart,' his mother said gently, hugging him again. 'I'm real sorry. Tony, I'm not surprised she hated your job, you know I do too.' He managed to nod. 'One day you'll meet someone perfect, but you got to be honest with her. Undercover work doesn't lead to trust, believe me. You'll know who she is when you first set eyes on her.'

He raised his head startled, unused to hearing such comments from his mother. 'Really?'

'Oh yes. Ask your father. We knew, the moment we saw each other. She's coming, Tony, your perfect friend. You just have to wait a little longer. And when she does, there's nothing in the world you wouldn't do for her. I know you well, sweetheart. The woman you'll marry will be real fortunate.'

He nodded slowly, considering her words. 'Yeah.'