Author's Note: In response to some email questions about how much of this is from actual spoilers, let me say that the majority of the dialogue and specific scenes in the five chapters of thisfic are completely my own (twisted) imagination. If you're familiar with the specific spoilers floating around on the board for this episode, you'll recognize them. But most of this is just me.

If you like the story so far, please review and let me know. Pretty please? Just press the little blue review link at the bottom and write a few words. Reviews help keep me motivated to finish the last two chapters! Thanks!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Sir, may I speak to you?" Kara stood in front of Commander Adama in the CIC, exactly four and a half minutes after her shift had ended.

Adama was paging through reports Dee had just handed him, and barely glanced at her. "Go ahead, Lieutenant."

"I was wondering if you knew when Captain Adama might be returning to the Galactica, sir?"

At this, both the Commander and Dee looked up at her.

"I would imagine we'll see him soon," the Commander said, after a pause.

"But sir, where exactly is he? I mean, it has been three days, and…" Kara caught herself, and tried to adopt a more nonchalant tone. "I had some questions about the roster he gave me, and uh…"

Adama cleared his throat. "He didn't tell you where he was going?"

Kara shook her head, and the Commander gazed down again, clearly not seeing the papers in his hand.

Then, "Maybe we should talk about this in my quarters, Lieutenant." He handed the papers back to Dee, and gestured for Kara to precede him into the corridor.

In his quarters, he poured some water for himself and Kara, and motioned for her to take a seat.

"I know you two are friends," Adama began, a little hesitantly. "I assumed that Lee had talked to you before he left."

Kara felt a painful sting at his words. "Maybe we're not as good friends as you imagine. If you feel that he would rather have me not knowing where he is, I understand." And she moved to get up.

"Kara," the Commander put up a hand. "You're misunderstanding me. I had thought—hoped, I guess—he had spoken with you before he left. Because," he gave her a rueful smile. "He didn't say much of anything to me."

Kara let out a small sigh of disappointment. "So you don't know where he is?"

"No."

"But, sir?" She leaned forward. "Aren't you getting a little worried about him? I mean, this is Lee, after all. Responsible, dependable, conscientious Lee. Why wouldn't he have contacted you?" Her voice rose a little. "I mean, he's the CAG! He's got responsibilities! If he's going to disappear like this, and get us so frakkin' worried—excuse me, sir—doesn't he at least owe us some kind of explanation?"

The Commander swirled the water in his glass thoughtfully. "We've all been pushing ourselves very hard for months now. It was only a matter of time before people started reaching their breaking points. When Lee came to ask me for some personal time, it looked like he had reached his. He looked …drained. He's been putting a lot on himself, and I think he's simply exhausted. It didn't seem unreasonable to let him have some time…"

Kara cut in. "Sir, with all due respect? There's a lot more going on than Lee being tired."

The Commander didn't look at her. She pressed on. "The last couple of days before he left, he wasn't himself. I mean, he got drunk, for one thing. He never does that. And he seemed to be in some dark place in his head, agonizing over mistakes or regrets, or something. I'm worried that he might, … I don't know… do something to himself." And she swallowed, having voiced a fear she had been reluctant to acknowledge. "Did you notice any of this, sir? Did you ask him about it?"

The Commander sighed. "I did notice that something seemed to be bothering him. And I asked him a question or two, but he didn't say much. I didn't want to press him about it. Lee and I…well, we've never been very good at talking to each other, Kara."

Yeah, join the club, Kara thought, then said, "Why don't I try to find him? I could take a Raptor…" She stopped. Adama was shaking his head.

"Kara, I think you need to give him some time right now. I think you—we—need to respect his privacy. If he's not back by tomorrow, I'll make some inquiries, try to locate him."

"Sir, I don't think this should wait until tomorrow! I really feel that he may need someone right now, and…"

"Kara, wait. There's something else. From the little that Lee said, I think…" He looked at her with his eyes full of a pained sympathy for her. "I think he's with a woman."

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

Frakkin' moron. That's what you are, Kara Thrace. She was alone in the senior officer's duty locker, pacing angrily in the small confined space. Why the hell had she thought Lee might need her? Lee was apparently doing fine, probably lying in the arms of that Mystery Bitch right now, not sparing her a second thought. The bastard was probably….

A tentative knock on the half-open hatch door interrupted her angry reverie. It was Dee.

"What is it?" Kara said ungraciously.

"Permission to enter, sir?"

Kara shrugged. "Yeah, come in."

Dee approached her somewhat uncertainly. "Sir, I wanted to ask if you were going to try and find L...Captain Adama?"

Kara gave a noisy sigh. 'No, I think Captain Adama is doing just fine and doesn't need anyone to go and find him."

Dee bit her lip. "I'm not so sure about that, sir." At Kara's annoyed glance, she drew a breath and continued. "I saw him the day before he left. He looked…terrible. Devastated, somehow. I had never seen him look like that, even after the Attack. I was worried about him, and I tried to find him when my shift ended."

"You tried to find him? Why would you…?" Kara stopped at Dee's flustered expression, and it hit her. The young communications officer had a thing for Lee. She wasn't totally surprised, indeed had suspected it for a few weeks. But it was absolutely the last thing she wanted to deal with now.

"You're dismissed, Petty Officer Dualla," she said coldly.

"Wait," Dee said drawing herself up determinedly. "Let me finish. I did find the Captain that night. Right here, as a matter of fact. He had been drinking. A lot, it seemed. I tried to talk to him, told him I was worried about him, asked him if I could help him, somehow. He asked me to leave." She looked a little hurt at the memory. "Told me I couldn't help him, that no one could help him. But then, he stopped himself, and said that wasn't quite true. But that the only person he wanted to talk to, wouldn't talk to him." Dee swallowed. "You."

Kara drew in her breath. Dee continued, looking at the floor. "I think he was surprised he said it out loud to me. He tried to laugh it off, saying he had learned not to expect anything from Kara Thrace, since she wouldn't be caught dead showing her sympathetic side."

Kara looked down. Her emotions were swirling, and she tried to figure out which one to give vent to. Bitterness won. "Yeah, well, I saw him that night too. And he certainly seems to have forgotten he said anything like that when he…" She trailed off, remembering how confused Lee had seemed that night. Wanting her, yet pushing her away.

"Lieutenant, I don't understand you." Dee broke into her thoughts, looking both angry and annoyed. "If I found out that he had said that about me…" she shook her head. "I'm worried about Lee. He's in some sort of trouble. But there's nothing I can do to help him. But you can. He's your best friend. Or so I thought."

Kara's face looked stubborn, images of Lee and the blonde still crowding out Dee's words.

"Don't you get it?" Dee continued impatiently. "I sit in the CIC and I listen to all of you as you fly out there. Lee is always so professional, so controlled. But when it comes to you?" She shook her head. "His voice can't hide how he feels…he can't hide his panic when he thinks you're in trouble." Her voice tightened a little. "He cares about you. If you needed him, what do you think he'd be doing right now?"

Kara stared for a few long moments at the petite young woman. Then, "You're right," Kara whispered. "Thanks."

Dee nodded, then turned businesslike. "There's more you should know. I tracked Lee's Raptor on dradis when he left. He's on a ship called the Prometheus. Its residents seem to be kind of a rough element, at least according to the many people who have asked for transfers off there to other ships. Been a lot of reports of people getting attacked, even a couple of mysterious deaths that are being investigated. Also, there's a lot of shuttle traffic between the Prometheus and Tom Zarek's Astral Queen."

Kara was caught between wonder at Dee's thoroughness, and rapid calculation of the best course of action. Dee was right. She had to do something. Mystery Bitch or no Mystery Bitch, Lee's vulnerable emotional state, combined with this new info about the ship on which he had somehow landed, raised serious concerns about his three day absence.

Then her mind fixed on one name. Someone who could prove useful here. "Would you be able to get Tom Zarek on a secure line for me?" she asked Dee.

Dee gave a curt nod and moved to leave.

"Dee?"

Dee turned back to face her.

"I just wanted to say that… well, I couldn't have done what you just did. I'm not that noble. And I wanted to say, again, that I appreciate it."

Dee looked steadily at Kara. "Lee's a good man. He deserves a lot." She lifted her head a little higher, and left the room.

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

"Zarek? Kara Thrace here." Kara stood in a corner of the hangar deck, the constant hum of noise keeping her phone conversation completely private.

"Lieutenant Thrace, to what do I owe this honor?"

"I need some information from you."

"Ah, I see. And why should I give you information?"

"Because," Kara said fiercely, "Ever since your good friend Meier held his gun to Lee's head during our recent little field trip to Kobol, Commander Adama has been looking for the least excuse to throw your ass in Galactica's brig for the remainder of your sorry life. If you help me now, you might earn some good will points with the Old Man. You sure as hell could use them."

A pause, then, "I'm listening."

Kara smiled grimly. "OK, then. What can you tell me about the Prometheus?"

"Hmm." Zarek hedged. "Can you be more specific with that question?"

Kara let out her breath noisily. "Lee went there alone three days ago, and no one has heard from him since."

"Captain Adama is on the Prometheus?"

"Yes."

There was such a long pause that Kara thought Zarek had hung up on her. Finally, "Stay at this phone. I'll call you on this line as soon as I know something."

For a half hour, Kara tensely paced near the phone, drawing annoyed looks from Tyrol, and curious ones from the rest of his deck gang. She snatched up the phone on the first buzz.

"Zarek?"

"Yes, it's me. I've spoken to some of my contacts, and it seems that not only has Captain Adama been seen on the Prometheus lately, but that he's grown a little too nosy about some of the activities there. There's a man named Phelan, who runs the ship, for all intents and purposes. The word is that Phelan is going to ensure that Lee Adama keeps his mouth shut."

"What activities are you talking about? What's going on there?"

"Lieutenant." Zarek sighed as if Kara was being hopelessly naive. "The Prometheus is the hub of the fleet's black-market."

Kara mouthed an 'Oh' without making a sound. Then, her voice grew urgent. "Zarek, is Lee in danger?"

"Knowing Phelan, that's a very real possibility" Kara gave a sharp intake of breath, as Zarek continued. "But, listen, Lieutenant. If you go in there heavy handed, with a bunch of shoot 'em up Marines, you may sign his death warrant, and probably be the cause of other people dying as well. The men on that ship are armed to the teeth. And the word is, they're trigger happy."

"Frak," Kara whispered. "All right, I'll go alone. But you have to tell me where I can find this Phelan. And I need details on the layout of that ship."

Kara's military training kicked in, her mind carefully calculating possibilities as Zarek gave her information on Phelan and the ship. When he finished, she said, "Okay, I'm set. And Zarek? I owe you one."

"Yes you do, Lieutenant. And don't worry. I'll be reminding you of that."

Forty five minutes later, after grabbing some small arms and her Caprican jacket—she knew she couldn't look like a Colonial officer for this op—Kara was piloting a raptor toward a small ship floating at the fringes of the fleet. The Prometheus.

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

The docking area of the Prometheus had just one exit, funneling new arrivals into a large adjacent poorly lit lobby, where an odd assortment of sofas, chairs, and tables were scattered with little semblance of order. About a dozen people were there, some lounging, playing cards, others sorting through some stacked boxes. A low hum of conversation filled the room

A burly, unshaven man approached Kara immediately after she entered the room.

Now or never, Kara thought. If Zarek had set her up—a thought that had crossed her mind on the flight over—she was about to be well and truly screwed. Her right elbow surreptitiously pressed against one of the guns she had secreted under her jacket.

"What do you want?" the man asked suspiciously when he reached her.

So much for the social niceties, she thought. But Kara Thrace didn't intimidate easily.

"I'm here to see Harris," she said, using the name Zarek had suggested.

"What do you want from him?"

"I don't think it's any of your godsdamn business."

"If it's not my godsdamn business, then you can get the frak off this ship."

Kara stared at him for a minute, then adopted an air of grudging concession. "I'm trying to get hold of some Amaroxin. Tom Zarek suggested Harris might have some for the right price."

At the mention of Zarek, a measure of respect touched the man's eyes. He appraised Kara a moment longer, then asked, "Did Zarek tell you where to find Harris?"

At Kara's nod, he inclined his head, giving her tacit approval to leave. "Okay."

Damn, I do owe you one, Zarek.

Kara took the closest stairs, ascended to Deck Three and immediately began to look for Corridor B. She had no idea in hell where to find Harris, but she knew where to find Phelan—Deck Three, Corridor B, according to Zarek.

She didn't have a clear plan yet how she might locate Lee. Mostly she hoped to see or overhear something that would provide some clue to his whereabouts. And the first place to start was in the vicinity of Phelan's quarters.

But once she reached corridor B, she saw the flaw in her plan. Unlike the other corridors she had passed, which rang with voices and bustled with activity, Phelan's corridor was deserted.

Frak, Kara thought. Hell of a lot easier to hide in a crowd.

She unzipped her jacket so her guns were more accessible, entered the corridor warily, and glided silently down the hall.. As the silence enveloped her, her nerves keyed up tighter.

Most of the doors she passed were shut, but a few stood ajar, and she cautiously peered into those rooms before passing them. Illuminated only by the dim lighting in the corridor, she couldn't make out much, but they appeared to be deserted storage rooms.

The silence was broken suddenly by the low hum of an elevator, sounding softly in the hallway about ten feet behind Kara. She froze momentarily, then slipped into the closest open storage room on her left.

She heard the elevator doors swish open and heavy steps start down the hallway toward her. In her darkened room, Kara pressed back against the wall, consciously quieted her breathing, and put a hand on her gun..

The footsteps came closer. They sounded odd, erratic in some way. When the figures passed her open doorway, Kara realized why.

There were three men—two large men on either side of a shorter dark-haired one, who was being held—no, pulled by the other two. His stumbling steps had created the uneven sound. The three figures were past the doorway in an instant, but Kara had clearly seen a gun in the hand of the man closest to her.

Her glimpse of the man in the middle had been brief and obscured. But it was enough to make her breath catch in her throat. His height, the color of his hair, and some indefinable something suggested it was the person she had worried over for the previous three days.

The footsteps stopped, and she heard a loud rap on the adjacent door. A muffled voice inside responded. Then, more clearly, she heard one of the men in the hallway. "We got him." A door opened, and the same man said, "In you go, flyboy."

Flyboy. It had to be Lee. It had to be.

Some people panic when hit with the flood of adrenaline brought on by a crisis. Some people lose the ability to think clearly. Some people give in to the urge to run instead of fight.

Those people don't become Viper pilots.

Kara's thoughts clarified, crystallized in a crisis. Her reactions seemed to speed up, her muscles obeying her instincts with lightening agility. It was what had kept her alive through countless dogfights.

And it was what was going to allow her—she hoped—to save Lee's ass.

With adrenaline coursing through her body, Kara took quick stock of her surroundings, scanning the dim gloom of the storage room, willing there to be a…yes. She saw it. A small panel on the back wall near the ceiling, probably an air vent. Within seconds she had shoved boxes under it to reach it, flipped out the knife she carried in a hidden pocket on the side of her pants, and was using it to pry off the metal screen. Successful, she noiselessly placed the screen on the floor, replaced the knife in its sheath, and pulled herself into the small passageway.

It had all taken her less than a minute.

No light from the corridor penetrated up here. In the pitch black, she pulled herself forward on her elbows cautiously, in the direction of the room where Lee had been taken. After about twelve feet, her hand touched an implacable metal wall in front of her.

Kara cursed silently, and traced her hand over the metal. Relief flooded her when her fingers touched a handle. An access panel, not a dead end, thank the gods. She turned the handle slowly and winced as it gave a small squeak. Then it was open, and a dim light fell on her. It came from a square of checkered light falling through a vent ahead.

Bingo.

Kara shifted on her elbows in the tight passageway, and managed to pull her gun from under her jacket. With its reassuring weight in her right hand, she shimmied forward soundlessly, getting to within about two feet of the vent opening. The space narrowed here, prohibiting her from getting any closer.

She was peering through the metal lattice of an air vent opening, high on the wall of a large room, cluttered with piles of boxes and half emptied crates. She could see a couple of men underneath her vantage point, sorting through a haphazard pile of electronic equipment. A little farther off, she glimpsed the corner of a solid wooden desk. She inched forward a fraction, and more of the desk slid into her line of vision, as well as the person standing in front of it.

Lee.

He looked like hell, Kara thought, wincing at his battered, bruised appearance. Clearly he had been in a fight, and from the looks of it, he had lost. Badly.

He was wearing his familiar pilot tanktops, but they were spattered with large, rust-colored bloodstains. Dried blood also covered his right hand, reaching up his arm. There was a nasty cut over his left eye, and blood rivulets had streaked that side of his face.

Despite the two large men securely holding his arms, Kara noticed Lee stagger a little, then shake his head slightly, as if trying to clear it. The effects of a concussion, from the looks of it.

Kara grasped the gun in her right hand tighter. Between the cramped space, and the heavy metal latticework in front of her, getting off a clean shot into the room would be almost impossible. Despite an overwhelming urge to try and take out the motherfrakkers holding Lee, she knew that by doing so, she ran the real risk of getting him killed. She bit her lip, knowing her only choice was to sit tight, and see how this played out.

A door opened on another side of the room, out of Kara's line of vision, and she heard a smooth voice from that direction say, "Captain Adama, so good of you to join us." A man then strode into her view, and seated himself at the desk directly in front of Lee, so that Kara could only see the back of his head. He reached for a bottle, poured something into a glass, then extended it to Lee. "Drink?" he asked him.

Kara could see the hatred on Lee's face as he silently stared at the man, who casually shrugged, gulped the drink himself, then set it down with a sigh.

Finally Lee spoke, his voice coldly furious. "Is she dead, Phelan?"

Phelan laughed. "Shevon? Of course not." He paused. "But I can see why you'd want her back. She's always been one of our best."

Watching this, Kara's eyes narrowed.

Lee stared at Phelan for a moment, then very slowly asked, "What do you mean, one of yours?"

Phelan leaned back in his chair and linked his hands behind his head. "Our trade isn't limited to dry goods. A good 'escort' like Shevon understands that it's about more than sex. They learn to listen, to smile... to forgive. Before you know it, you're trusting them with everything. Your regrets… your secrets." He chuckled a little at Lee's stunned face.

Any spurt of jealousy Kara felt at having her fears confirmed about Lee sleeping with another woman was overwhelmed by her rage at the way Phelan was mocking him. The bastard had set Lee up. Still held by the guards, Lee glared at Phelan. "How much did she tell you?" He spit the words out through clenched teeth.

Kara heard a door open again—the same one Phelan had entered minutes earlier—and saw Lee's eyes go to it. His face registered anger, betrayal, and loathing. In a moment Kara understood why, for a petite blond woman crossed into her line of vision, and slid up seductively behind Phelan at his desk.

"Everything," the woman said.

Shevon. The beautiful blonde whose rapt attention on Lee had caused Kara such spasms of jealousy days earlier. So the Mystery Bitch truly IS a bitch, Kara thought. But she could find no pleasure in the knowledge. For nothing was worth the pain of seeing Lee's humiliation played out before her like this. He had trusted Shevon with whatever painful secrets he hadn't been able to tell Kara or his father.

And Shevon had betrayed him.

She was speaking again, without looking at Lee, her hand trailing down Phelan's face. "Yes, I shared all your interesting revelations about Gianne."

Clearly enraged at the betrayal, Lee tried to break away from the guards, but they tightened their grip on him.

Gianne. The name stirred a memory within Kara. Lee had once brought a girlfriend by that name to Zak's place to meet them. Dark-haired, soft-spoken, and sweet-tempered -- the polar opposite of herself, in fact. Kara still remembered the strange tightness in her chest when Lee had introduced them. They had shared a pleasant, though slightly strained evening, with the gregarious Zak doing most of the talking. When they had left, she had bitched a bit to Zak about Lee's new girlfriend. Gianne wasn't a good match for Lee, she had said. She had no understanding of life in the Fleet. She wasn't strong enough, she wasn't independent enough. She wasn't … "Good enough?" Zak had finished for her. "Maybe no one is good enough for Lee." And then he had flicked an odd look at Kara. Suddenly self-conscious, Kara had dropped the conversation.

Phelan was speaking again. "I'm not trying to embarrass you, Lee. You're alive because I could see you through Shevon's eyes." He glanced up as Shevon moved away from him to sit in a nearby chair, crossing her legs seductively. "And what I saw seemed... reasonable."

Lee shook his head in disgust. "Like Fisk? Did you work out a little deal with him, too?"

Phelan's voice hardened. "Fisk was a pig. We had an arrangement, but then he tried to force us to renegotiate."

"So you killed him."

In her hiding place, Kara gasped silently, her eyes widening. Fisk had been the XO of Pegasus, and his mysterious death had been the talk of the fleet over the last three days, ever since his dead body had been found. Found in the most macabre way imaginable, actually. His body, floating in space, had collided with one of Cloud Nine's shuttles, en route to the Rising Star. The wireless had buzzed with eyewitness accounts describing—in lurid and sensational detail—the way his corpse had suddenly splayed itself across the large viewing window of the luxury shuttle.

Fisk's body had been duly retrieved by one of Pegasus's Raptors, and for a day speculation was rife that Fisk had somehow gotten himself accidentally vented into space while on a drunken binge. It wasn't until the coroner's report was leaked to the press two days ago that the truth was revealed.

Fisk had been shot in the head three times. The murderers had apparently thrown his body out an airlock in an attempt to dispose of the evidence in the vastness of space. It was their bad luck—and that of the passengers on that shuttle—that the corpse had instead drifted directly into the fleet, and in a one in million shot, had collided with a ship.

Lee must have somehow discovered a connection between Fisk's murder and Phelan's men, Kara realized. And thanks to that bitch, Shevon, Phelan had been told everything Lee knew.

But Phelan was shaking his head now in response to Lee's accusation. "I didn't kill Fisk," he said. "He did." He jerked his thumb behind him and to the left. Propped against a pile of boxes, Kara could just make out the shadowy figure of a slumped man. Even from her distance, it was immediately clear that the man was dead.

She pulled her eyes back to Phelan when she heard him speak again, this time to Lee's guards. "It's okay. Let him go."

Lee jerked his arms to his sides the moment they were released. He stared coldly at Phelan as the man continued talking in a pleasant, even tone. "Look, Lee. I can provide you with the murder weapon, fingerprints, whatever it takes so you can legitimately close your books on Fisk's murder."

Lee took a deep breath. "Then what?"

Phelan leaned back again. "Just look the other way. Forget what happened. Forget what you saw. Forget you know anything about the Prometheus. And in return, we'll forget anything that happened between you and Shevon." He gestured to the woman, whose mouth lifted in a small, faintly mocking smile.

Lee gave Shevon a long, hard look, then turned back to Phelan with his jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. Kara grew distinctly uneasy watching him. Her heart had leapt when she heard Phelan offering Lee an out. Come on, Lee, she had urged him silently. Promise him anything. Lie. Just make sure you walk out of this room alive.

But Lee stayed implacably silent. Phelan's voice took on a note of impatience. "Look, despite the President's feel-good trade policy, the fleet needs us. When rationing gets too tight or a supply shipment runs late, we're the pressure valve. We provide. Without us, people would have nowhere to turn. The fleet would tear itself apart."

But Lee was shaking his head at Phelan's rationalizations. "And it doesn't hurt that you get to live like kings while everyone else starves," he said scornfully.

Phelan's voice was cold now. "After the Cylon attack, fairness became an abstract concept. I'm talking about survival."

Lee pulled himself straighter, and locked eyes with Phelan. "Then you never should have killed a command officer," he said softly.

Oh, Gods! No, Lee! Kara pleaded silently.

Phelan's voice was icy and low. "Is that a threat?"

"I came alone, but Galactica tracked me on dradis. They know all about the Prometheus by now."

Kara felt suddenly sick. Lee had hoped—expected—that his extended absence without a word of communication would have worried them enough to look for him. But she and Adama had let him down. She, because of her stupid jealousy and pride. And his father, from some misguided reluctance to intrude on Lee's privacy.

But she bore the heavier load of guilt, she realized suddenly. For if she had any sense at all, the Commander would have known about the Prometheus by now. The instant Zarek had told her that Phelan was a threat to Lee, she should have gone to Adama and told him. He had the right to know, as Lee's commanding officer.

He had the right to know as his father.

She had totally, completely frakked this one up.

Lee was continuing. "Remember what I said about commitment?" he looked scornfully at Shevon, then back at Phelan. "If I know my father, he'll send in a full Marine squad. All they'll need to vent you into space is an excuse."

Shevon put her hand to her mouth, "Oh my Gods."

Lee turned and walked slowly up to the nearby guard. He nodded at the gun the man was aiming at him. "So go ahead."

Kara gave an soft gasp, her throat constricting with a sudden fear. What was Lee doing? Did he want to get himself killed?

Phelan was leaning forward, "Wait a minute…"

But Lee was leaning into the guard's outstretched hand now, pressing the man's gun deeper into his own chest.

"Come on," Lee said fiercely. "What are you waiting for?" His voice rose, "Do it. DO IT!" Watching him, Kara felt sudden tears sting her eyes. She fumbled with her own gun, but knew there was nothing she could do now but watch helplessly, her heart in her throat.

The room was still for a long tense moment, Lee's heavy breathing the only sound. Kara held her own breath, hoping, praying… The guard holding the gun to Lee's chest threw a glance at Phelan for instruction.

And at that moment, lightening fast, Lee pivoted, grabbed the gun from the man's hand, shoved him aside, and aimed it at Phelan.

Phelan was on his feet now, yelling. "I made you a fair offer!"

Lee nodded. "You're right," he said scornfully. "And maybe I should compromise. See both sides." His voice was low now, filled with self-loathing. "Back off like I've been doing all my life…"

"You better decide…" Phelan said slowly. Then he suddenly reached down, as if he was going for a weapon, and...

The room exploded with the sharp crack of a gunshot.

Kara had an instant of pure terror.

Then Phelan gasped and fell awkwardly backward, tipping over his chair, hitting the floor with a loud crash.

And Lee stood, breathing heavily, gun hand steady, eyes shadowed.

The other four men were raising their own guns when Shevon's voice cut through the tense silence. "No, don't!" She nodded toward Lee. "He's right. Galactica will come for him."

As the men hesitated, still stunned, Shevon moved over to Phelan's body and checked his pulse. She looked up at Lee, who had his gun trained on her.

"You son of a bitch. So, am I next? Are you gonna kill me?"

Lee's voice was low, struggling for control. "I just want to know the truth, Shevon. Did you know Gianne? You said you did."

Shevon's voice was contemptuous. "You said her name first. I just ran with it."

Lee shook his head. "No. No, you knew things about her. That's why I trusted…" He stopped himself, his face confused and angry.

She gave a derisive laugh. "Look, we had dug up some information about you, okay? When I met you I said I knew someone you had been close to on Caprica. Then I just waited for you to fill in a name. As soon as you said 'Gianne,' your eyes told me everything. Then it became a game—to get from you all the information I needed in order to use you." Her voice was cutting. "I've done this before, Lee. Many times. I'm very good at reading men. You were easy."

Lee stared at her coldly. "But Paya? You hinted that she might be…"

Shevon cut him off scornfully. "She's my child, of course. I couldn't believe you were stupid enough to think she might be Gianne's. Did you really think that somehow your long lost kid survived an attack that killed fifty billion people? Conveniently giving you a chance to work out some of that guilt you've been carting around?" She shook her head disbelievingly. "I knew you only kept seeing me because of Paya. So it was to my advantage to help you keep your fantasy going."

Secreted high in her cramped air vent, Kara's face was ashen. She shouldn't be hearing this. Lee's secrets should have stayed hidden, his alone, until he was ready to tell her. She felt sick, like she had been caught spying on him when he was at his weakest, his most vulnerable, and most humiliated.

Never, ever, would she let him know that she had heard any of this. She owed him that much.

Shevon had left Phelan's body and moved to the front of the desk, stopping just about three feet in front of Lee, who had turned to keep his gun trained on her.

"I found out a lot about you in the last few days, Lee. I learned you're a coward, for one." Her dispassionate, dismissive hatred was chilling. "And from all you've told me, it seems pretty clear that Gianne didn't leave you." She paused and leaned a little closer. "You pushed her away."

Lee's face drew back as if she had slapped him. Kara closed her eyes, unwilling—unable—to watch this any further.

A sudden sharp sound made her eyes fly open again. Shevon had kept her eyes locked on Lee's as she taunted him. But now it was clear that it had mostly been to distract him. Just out of Kara's line of vision on the right, the hand of one of the guards had appeared, and slammed a pistol butt into the back of Lee's head. Kara's eyes had opened to the sound of the impact, and she watched Lee stumble onto his knees, one hand reaching out to grab the desk, his gun hand swinging around. But his attacker was too fast, kicking Lee viciously in the head, knocking him out.

Lee fell heavily to the floor, sliding out of Kara's view behind the desk.

It had happened so quickly that Kara gasped. The guard who had hit him was now dragging him away to the right, apparently toward the room's exit, followed by Shevon and the other men.

Frak, Frak, FRAK! Kara couldn't see them anymore, as they had moved out of her line of vision. Her gun was cocked, and she fought down an urge to just start firing into the room. The fact that they had knocked him out instead of shooting him outright was hopeful. And shooting from her awkward position could just make things worse.

She strained to hear their voices.

"You can't shoot him. It'll be Fisk all over again. You guys totally frakked that one up." Shevon's voice.

"I'm not going to shoot him," protested the guard. "I have a way to make this look like an accident. We take him down now and put him out the airlock alive. But then we send out his Raptor after him, with the hatch controls jammed. If they find it, it'll just look like an accident. Like it malfunctioned in flight and vented him into space. No one could pin it on us."

A silence, then another voice. "Shevon, it'll work. And we don't have many options here."

Shevon's voice came, slightly hesitant. "I didn't think we'd have to kill him." Kara was surprised to detect the faint sound of regret. "I don't want to be a part of this, all right?" The sound of footsteps, and Shevon crossed back into Kara's line of vision, but only briefly, as she was heading for the door she had entered by. Kara heard that door open, then Shevon's final words drifted back into the room.

"Do whatever you feel you have to do, Weller. But as far as I'm concerned, Lee Adama left this room alive and well. Whatever happens after you leave here isn't my responsibility. And I don't ever want to know about it."

The door closed with a soft click. Almost at the same moment, she heard a man say, "Come on, Maddox, help me with him." Then another door opened, and shut.

Kara was already scrambling back through her narrow passageway, her heart racing. Lee had hoped someone would come to his aid. And so far, she had done nothing to help him, merely listened voyeuristically while his long buried secrets were dug up and mocked by a vengeful bitch.

But it wasn't too late. It couldn't be too late.

She reached the storage room, and dropped as quietly as she could back to the floor. Gun in hand, she stole to the doorway, then cautiously peered out. Hearing nothing, she moved swiftly into the corridor, gun extended, ready to fire. Two quick glances revealed the frustrating truth.

The corridor was empty. Lee and his captors were nowhere in sight.

To be continued….