Chapter Three

Jaime had been jubilant upon returning home from NSB headquarters. A clean bill of health from Rudy, as well as their success with Jack Hansen had her almost floating on air. She couldn't help noticing that Steve's mood did not match her own. He was silent and morose, his eyes dark and sad. Jaime curled up next to him on the sofa and looked at him with question marks in her eyes.

"You were awfully quiet during dinner. Didn't eat much, either. What's up?"

"We have to talk, Jaime."

"That sounds serious."

"It is." Steve took her into his arms, trying to brace her (and himself) for what he had to say. "I saw that security tape today."

"Was it...bad?"

He drew her closer, tenderly caressing her face and hair. "It was really bad, Sweetheart, and in ugly, vivid technicolor."

"And - you can see...everything?"

"Yes. To be honest, it made me sick to my stomach. But it wasn't you. It was your body being used used like some sort of macabre robot, but you weren't there. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

"Jaime, watching that video would cause you a lot of unnecessary pain, and you've been hurt far too much already. If Hansen can answer your questions tomorrow, and I'm pretty sure he can, you might wanna consider not seeing the tape."

"But I need to know!"

"To know, yes - you have every right. But that doesn't mean you should see every graphic, gory detail. It was almost too much for me! Will you at least give it some thought?"

"I'll sleep on it."

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The next morning, as Jaime and Steve reached the door of NSB headquarters, Oscar met them in the entryway, having already been there for several hours. "Jack tells me you both had some very valuable advice for him. Thank you."

"I'm glad we were able to help," Jaime answered.

"Can I give you a little valuable advice, Babe?" Oscar asked.

"Is it about the security tape?"

"Yep. Jaime, I just -"

"Steve doesn't think I should see it," Jaime told him.

"You know I have a strict policy about not taking sides between the two of you, but in this case, Steve is definitely right."

"We'll see."

Jack met them at the conference room door. "We'd probably be more comfortable in my office," he suggested. When everyone was seated and Hansen - himself! - had provided coffee, Jaime got right to the point. "I need to know what happened - what Kirk did to me. All of it."

Hansen looked at the two men who had accompanied her: Steve, sitting directly next to her, listening warily, and Oscar - who'd found he couldn't remain seated - pacing protectively and anxiously behind them.

"Ok," Jack began, "I know you've speculated they took you in the middle of the night, and you were right. One week before they took you to the Pentagon, they broke into your house with chloroform and took you while you slept."

"A week?" Jaime exclaimed. "I lost seven days? I thought maybe two or three."

"No, it was exactly a week," Jack confirmed.

"That's a lot more time for them to manipulate her," Steve noted.

Jack shook his head. "Manipulate? Try torture."