Chapter Four
"You are, legally and officially, husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride." The Justice of the Peace beamed at Colonel and Mrs. Steve Austin, thinking to himself that in all the years he'd been performing these weddings, he had never seen a couple more in love than these two.
That was why, several hours later, when he was contacted by someone named Russ who claimed to be with the federal government, the Justice had lied, saying he hadn't seen - and definitely hadn't married - anyone by those names or fitting those descriptions. A love that deep and that special deserved every fighting chance it could get.
Back in Washington DC, a single light burned in the window of the OSI's main conference room, long after the other offices had grown dark. Five people sat at the conference table, working the phones and picking each other's brains throughout the night, determined to find their friends and bring them home safely, before someone else - someone who wasn't nearly as fond of them - had a chance to find them first.
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Jaime smiled as she gazed happily at the form of her sleeping husband. In spite of the vigorous consummation of their marriage, she was still wide awake. She pictured Jack Hansen storming around his office, his face turning purple with troll-like anger and she felt absolutely no guilt at disobeying his directives. She just hoped Oscar wasn't getting both barrels of Hansen's anger. The more she thought about Oscar, the guiltier Jaime felt, until she couldn't live with herself anymore unless she set things right with her boss and friend.
Slowly and noiselessly, she got out of bed and padded down the hall to the tiny cabin's kitchen, where she settled onto the seat of one of the stools at the counter. It was after 1:00am, DC time, but instinct told Jaime to make the call anyway. If nothing else, she could leave a message on his machine for him to hear when he got there in the morning. She picked up the phone and dialed Oscar's direct "VIP" number, unsure if she'd prefer getting the person or his machine on the other end.
She didn't get his normal "Yes?" or "Hello?" or even the brusque, businesslike "Goldman" that he'd usually use when answering his phone. Instead, when the receiver on the other end was picked up, the voice was both worried and exhausted. "Jaime, is that you?"
She closed her eyes for a moment as guilt flooded her soul. "Hi, Oscar."
"Thank God. Are you alright? Is...Steve with you?"
"I'm fine. And yes, he is. We're both ok. We're also...married."
"Yes, I know. Under different circumstances, I'd give you my enthusiastic congratulations, but Babe, what in the hell possessed you -?"
"Look," Jaime said, "I didn't call to debate, and I'm sorry you're upset. I just wanted to let you know we're both ok, and -"
"Jaime, where are you? Why don't you let me send someone to bring you back quietly - both of you?"
"Does the word honeymoon have any meaning anymore?"
"Hansen put out an APB," Oscar said grimly.
"What?"
"At noon, less than eleven hours from now, there will be a warrant for your arrest - for both of you."
"No..." She closed her eyes briefly, but this nightmare still remained. "On what charges?"
"I'm sure he'll throw in anything he can even vaguely connect to you. Jaime, you haven't told Steve about the investigation, have you?"
"Not yet; not on our wedding day. He's my husband now, and I won't keep this from him; I can't. I'm gonna talk to him first thing in the morning. I will find out what's really going on. Hansen can't make me testify against Steve now - you know that, right?"
"He can still have you arrested as an accomplice..."
"Hold him off, if you can...please? I just need a little more time, and I'm sure I'll be able to clear all of this up."
Oscar sighed. "I'll try and stall Jack, but I don't think it'll work for very long. I hope you know what you're doing."
"Thanks, Oscar," Jaime said, hanging up. I hope I do, too, she thought to herself. She turned to head back to bed and jumped at the sight of her new husband, standing quietly in the doorway, his face a mixture of confusion and anger, and his eyes very, very sad.
"Sweetheart," he said flatly, "I'm guessing we need to talk."
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Jaime sprang to her feet, and the stool clattered to the floor as she took an involuntary step backward, out of sudden, paralyzing fear. She wasn't afraid of her husband; Steve would cut off his flesh-and-blood arm before he'd ever purposely hurt her. The overwhelming terror that gripped her was of the unknown she would now have to face head-on and of the conversation that was about to begin before she'd had a chance to mentally prepare and brace herself.
Steve, too, was in the grip of ice-cold fear. He'd heard enough of the conversation to know that he - they - faced more trouble, individually and as a couple, than either of them was ready to handle.
They had one major thing in common as they looked at each other in stunned silence. Their union, which just hours ago had been rock-solid and eternal, was in serious jeopardy, and they both knew it.
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