Michelle entered the cave hesitantly instinctively looking around for Marco. She blinked in the gloom, struggling to see Tony's figure curled under the rug, his breathing steady. At least he's improving. Come on Michelle, something's gotta go right! She chewed her upper lip, uncertain she should disturb anyone, but the conditions outside worried her.

'Hey,' Marco said, joining her silently. 'Do you see anyone out there?'

She shook her head, tiptoeing back into the strangely dim sunshine. 'The weather's changing,' she observed.

Marco stared round the silent mountains, his face grave. 'I see what you mean.'

'Is it just mist?' she asked doubtfully.

He gave a facial shrug, shaking his head. 'Sweetie, you're speaking to the wrong man. We have high mountains at home but I never visited them. The only mountains I spent time in were down south, and we didn't go too high up. This place is entirely different. It could be mist, or it could be an approaching storm. I wouldn't know the difference.'

'Maybe that's why we haven't been pursued,' Michelle guessed, voicing her bewilderment at the lack of a search. 'They could've heard some weather forecast.'

'You're probably right,' he agreed, eyeing the encroaching mist uneasily. 'Listen, sweetie, just to be safe, I'll fill this bottle with water now.' She nodded, sitting back on the designated look-out position to continue her search for all moving things, but the valley was strangely silent. The insects no longer chirped and the birds appeared to have vanished. Nothing stirred beyond Marco who filled their bottle, his eye on the northerly mountain peaks. 'Time to come inside, sweetie,' he said, returning to join her once the bottle was deposited within their shelter.

She shook her head in protest. 'What for? They could creep up on us any moment. Someone must keep a look-out. It's not even cold yet. There's no wind.'

'It's coming,' he said uneasily, brow furrowed. 'I can smell it.'

Her eyes met his and he threw her an apologetic look. 'Can't explain it any better, I'm afraid. Come inside now, Michelle.'

'Ali's men could still be out there,' she protested again, following him in.

'They won't be, trust me. I just hope this cave will be adequate to keep us alive,' he muttered, and for the first time since she had observed the unusual mist an icy feeling of dread crept over her.

'Are we in any danger?' she inquired, brushing the thought away.

Marco glanced at her, shaking his head. 'No, sweetie,' he replied, the need to protect a woman paramount in his mind. Wish you'd be sure of that, Almeida. You haven't even got anything to place over the mouth of this cave to keep the wind out. He paused at the mouth, eyeing the disappearing valley. At least the cave faces south.

'Marco,' Rita said, joining him, slipping into his arms. 'What's wrong?'

'We got an approaching front,' he explained, pulling her closer to him. 'It's gonna get a little cold querida.'

She sighed quietly, snuggling closer against him. 'Just when I thought we had a chance,' she whispered.

'Hey, we'll get to spend a little time together, that's all. Something to tell our friends about back home, a Himalayan storm,' he comforted. 'With tales like these, we'll be dining out for years.' They grinned at each other, reading the love from the other's eyes. Whatever awaited them would be faced together, each protecting the other with their last breath. Watching them, Michelle felt like an intruder.

Tony stirred, woken by the cold. Puzzled, he forced his eyes open searching for the source of the dismal howling that appeared to have no origin. It echoed within the cave, drowning out the voices of his family, the whine reverberating through his skull. He pushed himself onto an elbow. 'What's going on?' he inquired groggily.

'A mountain storm, m'ijo,' Marco told him, wrapping him back into the sheepskin. 'Get some more rest, Tony. We're as secure from pursuit as we'll ever be.'

Tony lay back, frowning at the roof above him. 'A storm? Could last for days,' he observed tiredly, his body craving rest. 'Do we have enough food?'

'We'll last,' Rita assured him, kissing his forehead. We haven't got as much as a single bite, sweetheart, but we'll pull through. We haven't got any other choice. She settled beside him brushing his hair back over his forehead. 'Go back to sleep.'

His eyes closed despite his urge to keep them open, Michelle's pale face the last thing he saw. Summoning his remaining strength he opened them again. 'Wait a minute. Just how prepared are we?'

'Get some sleep, Tony, before it gets too cold,' Michelle begged, cuddling beside him.

'We're as prepared as any group of people fleeing for their lives without food or clothing can be,' Marco pointed our wryly, aware his son would no longer rest. 'We're gonna be pushed to our limits, m'ijo.'

Tony blinked to clear the swaying world, holding an arm towards Marco. 'Help me up.' His father complied, to the disapproval of both women and helped him over to the mouth of the cave where they observed the swirling snow in grim silence. 'Okay, rule one: no going outside for anything, not even to the mouth of the cave. We got zero visibility and we'll fall over the ledge if we try. Two. We'll huddle together for warmth and ration our water. Three. The snow will build up; we'll dig ourselves in, make a kinda igloo. Once that's done we'll be sheltered from the wind. Understand?'

They nodded, marveling at the Marine that had re-emerged. Tony's eyes sought Michelle's. 'Sweetheart, you're not to leave this cave, promise?' She nodded reluctantly, aware what he referred to. 'Alright,' he muttered, settling as close to her as he could and slipping his arm round her. 'We wait it out.'

The storm caught Jack unprepared as he sheltered in a shallow cave. Equipped with a rucksack of food and medicine, and dressed for the harsh mountain conditions he fared better than any of the group. Cursing the weather he called CTU to demand updates, but Gael had nothing to report besides a long lecture from Chappelle who appeared ready to place the blame for his rescue attempt on anyone including Alberta. It had been a stormy meeting, Gael's irritated tone indicating he had not yet settled down. Jack advised him to distance himself from the lecture and continue with his work. The temperature dropped sharply once the full brunt of the wind struck, covering his surroundings in ankle-deep snow within hours. Jack could do little beyond watch.

He set off the next day once the weather cleared, lugging his rescue equipment on his shoulders determined to reach the camp. He was several yards from his cave when Gael called him with disturbing news. The camp showed no signs of habitation.

'Dammit, Gael, you gotta give me more than that,' Jack snapped, sinking to his knees in a pile of snow. 'Where did they go?'

Gael narrowed his eyes. 'I can only take an educated guess based on what we see – you understand I could be way off?'

'We're running out of time, Gael. Tell me what you know,' Jack snapped, rejoining the track with difficulty.

'We got two groups in the mountains. One has over a hundred individuals, the other only four. We can't be certain they're even human, but the larger group appears to be wandering aimlessly…'

'It'll be them,' Jack guessed. 'Wild animals don't hunt in such large packs. I need their location Gael. I'll work my way to them.'

'Yeah,' Gael agreed, reading him a set of coordinates. 'I'll keep you updated on their location. Do you need the location of the stationary group?'

Jack studied the path before him deep in thought. 'Why not? It could be some of them were left behind.'

'It appears we were fortunate,' Marco observed, ankle deep in snow. 'The storm's over.'

'This one - yes.' Tony frowned in concentration as he studied the route they had taken to the cave. 'Hassan will be here soon. He had a whole day's start on us. We must go today, Papa.'

His father nodded. 'I have to agree. Are you strong enough to face such a hike, Antonio?' Steady brown eyes met his seeking to draw the truth of his weakened condition and weigh the chances of his survival.

'You guys wouldn't consider leaving me behind?' Tony inquired.

'Not for a moment,' Marco assured him. 'Either we all go, or we all stay.' He glanced carefully at his son.

'I'm ready to continue,' Tony said quietly, eyes fixed on the snow. 'I can't promise I'll move fast, but I'll move.'

'No one will move fast through this snow,' Marco predicted, squeezing his shoulder. 'You sure you can do this, m'ijo? We could always barricade ourselves…'

'Without food? That would be pointless, Papa. No – we gotta go today.' He organized them into a line, his father ahead pushing a path through the snow followed by Michelle and Rita who would support her, and he stationed himself in the rear. It would require every ounce of self discipline to stagger along behind them but he would do it, just as Michelle would. Failure to move would mean death by a number of possibilities each grimmer than the one before - death by exposure, death by starvation or death by execution should Hassan catch up to them. The thought of the last eventuality froze the blood in his veins as he struggled after his family. He would crawl on hands and knees to keep ahead of the man if necessary, or throw himself over a cliff, anything to avoid further interrogation. Weak from typhus and his torture he stumbled behind Michelle, amazed at her stoicism.

'You're doing great, sweetheart,' he told her as they paused for what he suspected was a rest for his benefit. 'How's your leg?'

'Okay.' She said nothing more and he slipped his arm around her, aware how exhausted she was struggling on one leg. 'How are you coping, Tony?'

Ready to lie down in the snow and die, sweetheart. 'I'm fine,' he said firmly, managing to look her in the eye. I'm as fine as you are! Worn out, she leaned against him with closed eyes, allowing his body to support her weight.

'I love you, Tony,' she whispered.

Heart warm, he pulled her closer. 'Me too, sweetheart. You're the only reason I'm still moving,' he admitted softly.

They continued their trek downwards, Marco testing every inch before him by placing his foot down hard. Miraculously they reached lower ground without mishap, staring at the fiery red snow as the sun sank behind a peak. 'We should seek shelter,' Tony reminded them and set off determinedly, forcing another half hour of struggle from his body.

Their efforts to find shelter were fruitless. Faced with no other alternative they spent the night outdoors in the snow, huddled together in their thin clothes, stamping their numb feet and flexing their fingers. Rita checked Tony's bandaged hands regularly as he was unable to move them. Their sheepskin was wrapped round him and Michelle as he lost the battle he had waged the entire day and fell asleep.

'You still think we'll make it, Marco?' Rita asked softly, her voice coming over to him in puffs. 'We haven't eaten for four days.'

'Humans can last around six weeks without food,' he reminded her, hugging her.

'In a hospital, yes. Not out here in this snow. I'm not sure how the children will cope tomorrow,' she admitted. 'Tony pushed himself way beyond his limit already. He's not well at all and he's in agony. His hands are swollen. And Michelle's good leg must be cramped from hobbling on it.'

'We must move a little further, querida,' he insisted, stroking her hair. 'The moment we'll find a village I'll go and steal some food.' He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. 'Last thing I stole was an apricot off someone's tree when I was in high school. Still, I guess I proved I'd do anything to keep this family safe.' He fell silent, fingers working through her hair.

'What are you thinking about?' she asked softly, aware he was in turmoil.

'I killed twelve men, querida. They were all Tony's age, some younger.'

'We had no other choice,' she told him quietly. 'You can talk to someone about it when we get home, honey.'

Marco shook his head swiftly. 'That won't undo it, Rita. I'll just have to live with it.' The look he threw her was empty.

'You'll feel better once you go to Church…'

'I can't go there again, querida. I don't deserve to be allowed in,' he said, his tone flat. 'I killed people, and I'm not even sorry. If they catch up to us, I'll kill more. How can I walk into Church and lie about feeling regret, when all I feel is emptiness. And here's the worst part. I know I'd do it again anytime someone threatened you or Tony, or any of our other children.' He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, studying her pale face. 'I'm just a machine now, sweetheart, nothing more. I don't feel anything!'

Tears filled her eyes as she drew him towards her. 'Now you listen to me, Marco Almeida. You saved our lives when you killed those men. How much longer do you imagine they would've kept so many useless foreigners? No longer than another few days. No one will blame you for what you did.' He gazed at her dully, shaking his head. 'Weigh it up, sweetheart. You killed twelve and saved over a hundred. That's gotta count for something.'

'I killed twelve,' he repeated monotonously. Wordless, she squeezed his hand, determined to speak to Tony the moment she got her first chance. He had been in combat dozens of times and would know what to tell his father. 'I always thought I'd see Papa again someday,' Marco continued, his voice so low she could barely hear it over the breeze. 'I even had stuff I was going to tell him about.' He shook his head hopelessly. 'I'll never get to do that now, querida.' She stroked his fingers, a tear sliding unchecked down her cheek. 'I really miss him,' he admitted, even quieter. 'I never got a chance to say goodbye…That's why I didn't go home for the last three years. I pretended to be too busy, but it wasn't that true. I just couldn't face going home and not seeing him there.'

Rita wiped her face with a frozen hand, turning to face him. 'We'll go back together, Marco. Once we get home and check the others, and wait for Tony to recover we'll go back. Just you and me. We'll stay as long as you need to.'

As prepared as possible mentally, Gael nevertheless jumped as Alberta laid a hand on his shoulder. He cursed himself, turning to face her with a resigned expression. 'You needed something, Alberta?'

Her smile was chilling. 'Mr. Chappelle's here. He'd like to speak to you,' she informed him, searching his face intently. 'He seems convinced that you're aware of Jack's whereabouts.'

'Alberta, I haven't the time for this,' he protested with feigned indignation. 'I'm running behind…'

'Naturally, as you're devoting the majority of the day to guiding Jack through the mountains,' she said sweetly. 'Now Gael, you've got a chance to admit you're helping him and get fired now, or continue to lie to us and face the consequences. I assure you those won't be pleasant!'

You're busted, Ortega! 'For the hundredth time, Alberta, I'm not hiding anything from anyone,' he insisted.

She nodded. 'Mr. Chappelle's upstairs. He wants you right away.'

Gael rose obediently and headed towards the stairs, diverting at the last moment for a quick trip to the restroom, where he sent Jack the coordinates of both groups as he had last copied them five minutes before and added a hurried line that he was about to be busted. Once the message was sent he headed down the corridor, depositing the sat phone in the store room for want of a better place, straightened his shirt and climbed the stairs to the office reserved for visiting dignitaries from Division. Play it cool, Ortega. They've got no evidence whatsoever. Drawing a deep breath he tapped on the door.

'Come in,' Chappelle snapped, his nasally whine grating on Gael's taut nerves. 'Shut the door and sit down.'

Gael obeyed, heart hammering.

'I understand you're married,' Chappelle began, his eyes boring into the depths of his soul. Bewildered, he nodded. 'You have children. I commend you on that – raising a family is no easy challenge these days. You'd have schools to pay for; sporting lessons, other activities…that takes money and commitment. Do you enjoy providing for your family, Gael?'

'Yes sir,' Gael agreed, dreading the rest of the discussion.

'That's good,' Chappelle told him. 'I'm going to give you a chance to continue to do so, Gael. Your children are quite young; it would be a real shame to have them grow up without a bread winner. Where's Jack now?'

'Sir, I have no idea,' he said, telling himself it was the strict truth. At the present moment he had no knowledge of Jack's precise location. It's not a real lie, Ortega.

Chappelle nodded. 'Your loyalty is to be commended. How is Almeida?'

Gael's eyes widened. 'Sir, he was kidnapped by some group…'

'Don't give me that, Gael. You and Bauer spent hours in his office together. Just give me the number on his sat phone. This insubordination will stop today.'

Gael shook his head slowly, returning his scrutiny. 'Mr. Chappelle, I would help you if I could. I had no idea of Jack's plans, and have even less knowledge of his whereabouts. If I knew anything, I'd tell you.'

Chappelle shook his head. 'Tell me Gael, who are you protecting? Bauer or Almeida? Trust me, neither of them would return that loyalty. I'm going to have my systems people take a look at all communications from this building and we'll find what we need. You'll spend that time in a holding room.'

'Sir, I got that much work,' he protested, knowing it was futile.

'You're officially suspended pending our investigation. You're throwing your life away needlessly, Ortega. Escort him to holding room two,' he told the burly security guard.

You're wrong, Ryan. It's not needless. Tony's in real trouble, he sent a plea for help. He done enough for you already that you won't ignore that. And you're wrong about his loyalty too. He'd do the same for you were the situation reversed. Unemotionally he rose and followed the guards down the stairs and along the corridor, where he entered the holding room alone. Resting his head in his hands he pictured his family. I'm real sorry. He pressed his arms to him wondering how he could explain his actions to Teresa.

Jack studied the final coordinates and set off towards the larger group cursing Gael's removal. Without the location of the passengers he would be forced into a game of hide and seek in the mountains with the distinct possibility they would pass him without his knowledge, or the worse scenario of his running into the militants. Heartily sick of the constant climbing he was forced to do he pushed himself onwards determined to reach the group. Tony had sent the C code – he was in trouble. He had faced torture and had been unable to hold out any longer. How the passengers had escaped he didn't know, but one thing was certain, Tony was not in a good condition. At best he would be weak and badly hurt…At worst sick or dead.

He struggled on, dismissing the thought. Tony was alive, he had to be. He was alive because of the sheer fact of the passengers escape directly the C code had been activated. Somehow he had ordered them to leave…No matter how battered he might be, he had sent them word.

Jack paused, eyeing a precipice dangerously close to the path. Tony had certainly faced torture to make his capitulation appear more believable, so he was bound to be hurt. There was a chance the passengers would help him move – there was an equal possibility they would abandon all the injured. If he were in fact too weak to move with the group, Michelle would stay with him as would…Jack swore aloud, pulling out the last coordinates he received from the smaller group of four. They had made substantial progress in the last day, slower than the larger group but progress nonetheless. He had no way of knowing whether the slower progress was due to them being weaker than the rest, or whether the paths were worse in that region. Had he been able to contact Gael he would have checked the conditions of the route. Without that ability, he turned his steps towards them.

The larger group had spent the previous day walking in a valley, climbing gradually. According to the coordinates, the smaller group was close behind. If they maintained their heading they would intercept. He moved faster, determined to reach them.