Russ turned a concerned glance toward Goldman as he quietly sat down in the limo, but he said nothing. Judging from Oscar's pallor, the young man knew that Jaime Sommers was now lying unconscious in the Director's office. Oscar looked out the window, and clasped his hands tightly together, as though that would somehow atone for the guilt that consumed him. Russ noticed that Oscar's grip on his own hands was causing the flesh around his fingertips to turn bright red. The agent studied his mentor's face once more, and was struck by the sickly shade of grey it had turned. Russ took in a long breath of air, apprehension crashing through him like a tidal wave.

His voice was low and soft, "Is there something I can do?"

Oscar looked down at his own hands, and shook his head. A moment later, he again turned a blank stare to the darkened window of the towncar. Russ frowned and swallowed hard, his own guilt seeking exoneration through compassion. As he had seen Rudy do hundreds of times when Oscar was wound up, Russ softly pat the man's arm and tried to comfort him.

"She'll be all right. It was just a sedative."

Goldman looked into the young man's face, the indignation in his eyes searing into Russ as sharply as a laser beam. Oscar said nothing; but then, he didn't have to. Russ pulled his hand back, and turned away, suddenly unable to breathe. Oscar glared at him a moment longer, then silently turned back to the window and his own dark thoughts of self-recrimination.

Rudy looked at his watch and realized that it was long past time for him to head home. He closed up his lab, and walked to the elevator. As he depressed the button, he remembered that he had promised to stop by Oscar's office before he left for the night. Sighing, Rudy stepped onto the waiting car, and punched the button for the top floor. The doors opened into a silent corridor, most OSI personnel having long since left for the day. The doctor walked through the glass doors of Goldman's outer office, and seeing that Callahan too had gone home, proceeded through the wooden doors, lightly knocking as he opened them. He peered around the door and found an empty desk chair. Rudy looked to his right and saw the figure asleep on the couch. He shook his head, not at all surprised that Oscar had finally given in to his exhaustion. He stepped into the office, closing the door behind him, and walked toward the couch. As he drew nearer, he saw the blonde hair and curvy figure, and realized that it was Jaime lying there. He gently shook her shoulder.

"Jaime....hey, Jaime...."

She didn't rouse. Rudy frowned and shook her a little harder.

"Come on, Jaime, rise and shine, let's go."

When she still did not wake, an alarm in Rudy's head sounded. He sat on the edge of the couch, and turned her body toward him, quickly taking her pulse. It was slow and steady, and her respiration seemed perfectly normal. Wells let out a breath of air, and looked down; the white piece of paper on the coffee table caught his eye from its periphery. He picked it up and saw his name scribbled on one side of the note; he recognized Oscar's handwriting. Rudy opened up the folded paper and quickly read the words on it.

Rudy:

Forgive me for the ruse in getting you to my office, but I wanted you to be able to check on Jaime, and I couldn't risk telling anyone of the NSB's plan in advance, not even you. The Shia Hizballah intends to make its move tonight, and I didn't want to take a chance that Jaime would try and stop me, or that these maniacs might target her as well. To that end, I sedated her with 45 mg's of temazepam. I'm trusting you not to wake her with a stimulant and tell her; and that's for her own protection, Rudy, as much as for my sanity. I simply needed to know that you would be with her to make sure she's all right. In the event that something goes wrong, please tell Jaime that I'm sorry for violating her trust; I only did so out of love.

Take care of yourself, Rudy, and if I don't make it back, you know what to do.

Always,

Oscar

Wells could feel the panic rising within him. Panic and conflict. If he did as Oscar asked, Jaime would be safe, but she would never forgive either of them if something happened to Oscar. And Rudy knew damned well he couldn't entrust Oscar's life to the NSB; Hansen was good, but never as sharp when it came to protecting Oscar and the OSI. It all boiled down to a violation of trust: first Oscar to Jaime, and now Wells to Goldman. So much for the conflict. Rudy shoved the note into his pocket and ran for the elevator. He looked at his watch: he needed to inject Jaime with 20 mgs of Dextroamphetamine, give her a few minutes to rouse, brief her on Oscar's situation, and then hopefully catch up with Goldman before he turned himself into the latest name on the OSI deceased list.

Rudy felt his stomach begin to churn. Oscar would probably never forgive him for what he was about to do; but in the end, Rudy could live with the loss of the friendship a lot easier than the loss of the friend.