A/N: Hey BadSlayer! Yeah ok, maybe it was an overshare, but you know. What's done is done! LOL 'no spelling errors', you know it was actually my perogative NOT to have spelling errors? LMAO. (Personal joke...lol) jtbwriter - maybe you're right, maybe she should have followed but remember she didn't know who it was, it could easily have been someone on his side, and she wants to get out of this, and figures that the longer she leaves it the less likely she is to be killed. I dunno. lol. hottemolly - don't worry I'll finish it. I have as much fun writing this as you do reading! Possibly more! lol. mdnghtblu518 - shirtless Woody definitley is always good. Fool-proof. Even if it was only in his musings. Thanks everybody else for reviewing! If I'm lucky I might finish chapter 10 by tonight! haha. If you've ever got any suggestions I'm all ears...coz how this is going to finish is really up to the muses at the moment 'cause I don't have much of an idea. lol. So I am impressionable. Okay - read ahead!

Chapter 9: Square Minus One

"Morning sleepy head," Ayres said as Jordan sat up, looking around, momentarily disorientated. As soon as she spotted him, however, she remembered exactly where she was.

"That's what you do at night," she muttered defensively.

He put his hands up. "I know, I know, I didn't mean anything by it. Jeez you're paranoid."

"You'd be paranoid too if you'd been kidnapped as many times as I have."

"What?" he asked, wondering where she was going. She looked at him, careful to make her voice sound thick and groggy.

"Do you know how many times I've been in this situation?" she said casually. "Well neither do I! I gave up keeping tally after I went through my first notebook."

"Yeah," he said. "Sure you did."

"I'm dead serious, no pun intended. This is all in a day's work," she paused, looking at her watch. "Or rather two days' work. Same with Hoyt and Macy. I predict that we'll all, well except you of course, be in our beds by tomorrow night. Who knows, we may have even forgotten about this by the next day. You're nothing special to us." She made sure to work some contempt into her tone, and watched him fume.

"Really, you're nothing full stop," she continued. "I've been in far worse situations."

"Oh?" he said, voice strained. "What?"

She looked at him, putting on a bright 'I don't give a damn' voice. "Well there was this one time, where I was buried alive. Had the coffin and everything."

"Well aren't you the escape artist?"

"Oh yeah," she said airily. "This is just another one for the books. Not even worth telling to the next guy that tries this."

He stood abruptly, and slammed his hand into the chair by her head.

"Shut up!" he shouted, staring into her eyes. Their head were inches apart, and still he shouted. "Shut your smart mouth!"

He took his hand away, gave her a black look and left the room.

"Round five goes to the good guys," she said, smiling.

---------------

"You didn't sleep." It wasn't a question, so the detective didn't provide Garret with an answer.

"We have to trace the records," he said. "We find out who the body is, we may find…something that points us in her general direction.

"It's a long shot. However we need to identify her anyway."

"And how does one go about that without dental records?"

Garret looked at him. "Same way we would any other. Anything at all." He walked away, leaving the detective in the corridor.

"Nige?" he called. The criminologist poked his head out of the office he and Bug shared.

"Dr. M?"

"Come help me in trace. The Jane Doe from the train wreck."

"Ah, our mystery woman. I did anticipate that you would want to work on her."

Garret came closer. "And?"

"Well, if you hadn't already guessed from the fact I called her our 'mystery' woman, she could not be identified."

"Nothing?" Garret asked, and Nigel shook his head grimly.

"Not a single match. No one has reported her missing, or said she was on a train."

"Did you measure her?"

"Yep. Around Jordan's height."

Garret nodded. "Yeah I figured." He paused. "Look, this girl had to have dental records, if they were to be swapped with Jordan's. Whoever did this needed to have something to swap with."

"I don't know how they did it though, Dr. M," he said. "Woody called me last night, told me to see if I could get in there. Spent most of the night on it! But nothing, I could not crack the code. And it's not just my ability, or seeming lack thereof. It's damn near impossible to do unless you have insiders access."

Garret frowned. "No way to interview them all, I don't suppose?"

Nigel looked at the Chief ME. "Now you would probably know the FBI better than me," he began. "But they don't take too kindly to being investigated."

"No," Garret agreed. "But we might have to, if there is nothing else."

"All I can suggest is that we work on cracking the train wreck mystery," Nigel said. "Because whoever faked her death either caused it or knew that it was going to happen."

Garret nodded. "Even though it's likely the feds already have the answer," he said. "They haven't exactly been down here probing us for our information."

"I wouldn't speak so soon. Don't look now, Dr. M, but…"

Garret looked anyway, and walking towards them was a woman he recognised from the train wreck.

"Dr. Macy," the woman said, and held her badge out to him. "Agent Farrell, FBI."

"Agent Farrell," he said politely. "How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a list of those you have identified. How many left?"

"All but a couple who have proved impossible to identify," he said, then told Nigel to run and get the list. "I would be grateful if you told me what you know."

"I can't divulge details…"

"One of my people is at great risk," he said quietly, as if commenting on the weather. "I suggest you tell me what you know."

"I can't," she said firmly. "Take it up with my supervisor, I am not…"

"I am talking to you," he said. "Tell me what you know, or I swear I will uncover it and unmask whatever it is you're trying to cover up, with great insensitivity."

Farrell looked at him, as if weighing him up. "Your threats don't sway me."

"Please," he said, and she read the desperation in his eyes. She sighed.

"It wouldn't have much to do with your doctor," she said. "We are pretty sure it was a terrorist hit."

"Who?"

"I am so not at liberty to say," she said, trying to make him smile. For some reason she found herself liking this forward man.

"Whoever it was is allied with the guy we're after."

"We would have no way of finding that out," she said gently. "They cover their tracks well."

"Guess we'll have to raid every house in the neighbourhood, then," he said mildly. She sent him a look.

"Sure you will."

"I will if I have to."

Nigel returning with the list broke their staring contest. Handing it to Farrell, he glanced at Garret, who shook his head slightly. Farrell's eyes skimmed over the list, and, apparently not finding anything of interest, thanked the two and left, list in hand.

"What did you get out of her?"

"Nothing we didn't already know. They think it's a terrorist job."

"'Course they do," Nigel said blandly. "Where does this leave us?"

"Well if squares had negative polarities I could tell you," Garret said, and left, leaving Nigel to ponder his answer, bemused expression on his face.

---------------

They next day passed quicker for Jordan, compared to the previous one. They sat and they did not talk. They were both waiting, Ayres for something she couldn't pin, and herself for a slip on Ayres' part. Or a chance to worm more information from him.

"How long are we going to sit here for?" Jordan asked finally. He glanced at his watch, both for show and otherwise. It was getting late.

"As long as it takes," he said. She looked at him.

"What needs to be done?"

She was treading on thin ice. He studied her, as if weighing her up.

"They need to find you," he said. "So you see it isn't really up to me."

"Are you going to give them any hints?" she said stiffly.

He grinned. "Their little visit from yesterday was more than I was going to give them."

"But they didn't recognise you?"

"No," he said quite calmly, though a nerve next to his eye flickered and Jordan knew it was a sore point for him that none of them had remembered him. They would by the end of this, she thought grimly. And, she supposed, that was what he wanted. "But the tall one looked at me funny, so maybe it'll come to him." He grinned.

"So tell me," she said. "What happens once they get here? They're not stupid enough to not call for backup."

"And you think I have not planned for such an occurrence?" he asked, surprised. "It's all worked out, you need not worry your pretty little head about it."

"Well that's a load off my shoulder," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. He raised an eyebrow.

"Glad I could help," he said, equally as mockingly, and continued to watch her. "So what's up with you and those two?"

"What do you mean?"

He paused. "Well," he began. "They did seem awfully worried about you."

"Isn't that what you wanted?" she asked bitterly.

"Oh yes," he said, delighted. "But of course, I did not expect success to this extent. The young one looked different to last time I saw him. Bitter."

"Woody, bitter?" she scoffed before she could help herself. He grinned.

"I knew it," he said.

"Knew what?"

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You saw him recently, no? Well, if he wasn't bitter then, and he is now, what do you think occurred?" He feigned being puzzled, then stuck a finger in the air as if an idea had just come to him."Oh, it could have been your death that did it. Or was it just that his coffee was cold this morning?"

She had no answer for him, so just sat and looked at him.

"So," she said after a while. "You're not going to give me a tour of your house?"