Determinant

by FinnsKeeper

"In every moment of choice, you create a new destiny." One small change can have a big effect. A Jamie/Mitch rewrite of the entire series. Chapters 28-38 loaded 9/15.

25. Pangaea - Pragma

Determinant: a gene or other factor that determines the character and development of a cell or group of cells in an organism.

Chapter 25: Pangaea - Pragma

Stranded in D.C., Jamie and Mitch search for a way to stop the Noah Objective as Jackson and the others finish the cure.

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Jamie followed Mitch out onto Wisconsin Avenue. Emergency personnel still bustled around hurriedly, and she had to stifle another gasp at the sheer number of injured that were still being treated. Mitch seemed stunned as well, but he shook it off and directed her toward a bus stop just outside the embassy fence.

"You think the bus will get through all of this?" she asked him, indicating the myriad of cars, ambulances, and fire trucks that were blocking the entire street. Mitch frowned and turned a complete circle as though searching for something.

"We'll have to go a few blocks north," he said finally. "Georgetown Hospital is south, so that's where all of the ambulances will be headed. There should be a bus stop at Massachusetts."

"Have you been to D.C. before?" He seemed to know where to go, but that didn't surprise her. Mitch seemed to have an endless fount of random knowledge.

"I worked at Georgetown for about a year," he told her as she fell into step beside him. Jamie noticed how he slowed his own gait to allow her to walk at a comfortable pace but didn't comment. "This was back before I realized that being a people doctor really wasn't for me. I made it to my first year of residency." She tried to picture him then, younger and more carefree. Ready to help people. A little less cynical and a little more vibrant. She wondered what she would have thought of him if she'd met him then.

They reached the next bus stop a few minutes later. No one was sitting on the bench, and for a moment Jamie panicked. What if the buses weren't running any more? What if they were attacked while they were waiting? They had no weapons, no means of defense at all. She glanced around furtively as she felt a rush of adrenaline she knew all too well. It had been her constant companion in Canada, never knowing what was waiting over the next hill. It had kept her alive then, and its sudden surge now actually put her more at ease. This she knew. This was familiar.

If Mitch noticed her heightened awareness he didn't show it. After a few seconds it was clear no attack was imminent and Jamie took slow breaths to calm her racing heart. Mitch kept his eyes on the map of the bus routes, spending much more time than she knew he needed to memorize their destination. He was giving her time, she realized. He had noticed, and rather than try to baby her or offer meaningless platitudes, he let her work through the moment on her own. She didn't know whether to be touched by his thoughtfulness or annoyed that he still felt he needed to use kid gloves with her. For simplicity's sake, she went with the former.

"Where to?" She moved just behind him to peer over his shoulder at the map.

He tapped his finger against the bus stop they were currently occupying, then traced a line southeast to a spot just south of Capitol Hill. "Jackson said his dad mentioned something about Shepherds."

"Shepherds? You think those are the people who created the animals?" It stood to reason that there would be a small group in charge of engineering the animals as well as maintain the populations.

"That's what we need to find out," Mitch turned his head to look at her. "I figure we'll sniff out as much as we can on them and forward it to the team. With Robert Oz leading them, there's no telling how much he's actually shared. They'll be flying in blind."

Information gathering was Jamie's stock-in-trade, but even she was stumped on how to begin. "How do you propose we do that? Secret organizations tend not to broadcast their existence, let alone what they're up to."

"Look where we are," Mitch turned around and leaned back against the map. "D.C. is filled to the brim with whack-job conspiracy theorists. The trick is finding the right whack job."

A memory came back to her, beginning as a tickle at the back of her mind but returning with more force as she focused on it. A name, not his real one but it would have to do. She pulled out her phone, opened a browser and turned so Mitch could see her screen.

"There's a blog writer here in D.C. He deals mostly with environmental stuff, cover ups, stuff like that." She didn't say why she knew about him. Mitch already knew the story of her mom and the tragedy that had very nearly destroyed her hometown. He stayed silent, letting the moment pass, and Jamie found the link. "Here it is." She held it up for inspection, and he squinted to read the small letters.

"The Green Piece. Cute. You know him?"

"We've emailed," Jamie affirmed.

"What's his name?" Mitch asked.

"I don't know his real name," she told him. "He goes by Robin, but I'm sure that's not his actual name."

"Robin?" Mitch scoffed. "As in 'Holy Hero Complex Batman?'"

"No," Jamie shook her head, "at least, that's not what he says. It has something to do with Native American symbolism about knowledge and wisdom." Mitch grumbled something under his breath but Jamie was too focused on her phone to bother calling him out on his attitude. "He usually responds pretty quickly. At least," she amended, "he did before everything went to hell." She quickly glanced the front page of the blog, encouraged by the current date on the most recent article. She found the contact link and clicked on it, shooting off a quick message with her own blog alias. The bus came before his answer, and they both decided that being out in the open was too dangerous.

The only other occupants were an elderly couple in the front row and a young man a few seats back in a three-piece suit. He was talking into an earpiece and didn't even glance at them as they stepped up. The driver was not much older than her, and he nodded at them as Mitch flashed the day passes he'd purchased at the kiosk. They had gone only a few blocks when Jamie's phone beeped with a message.

"He says he'll meet us at a cafe on Nebraska. Davenport?" She did a quick search and showed Mitch.

"That's close," he told her. "There's a bus stop at Nebraska and New Mexico." What was normally a ten minute trip took almost half an hour with the stops between. Finally they were standing on the corner of Nebraska and New Mexico Avenue. With only a cursory glance between them, they set off on the next stage in what was becoming a rather epic quest.

The Davenport Cafe was just across the street from the bus stop, a bottom-level piece of a larger beige building that seemed to be a part of a college. The standard A-frame sign sat out front detailing the day's specials, and a note near the bottom indicated that American University students received a 10% discount with student ID. Even in the crisis, business was business.

The barista behind the counter glanced up as they walked in. She couldn't have been much more than 18, all bright smiles and cheerful greetings as Jamie waved back lamely. Her contact had told her he would grab a booth near the back. They worked their way through the maze of tables until they found a lone occupant sitting with his back to the door. She had never seen a picture of him, but the quick glance at the screen of his tablet told her they had the right man. No one these days was too keen on saving the animals, and the ALF logo she could see told her all she needed to know.

"Robin?" she queried, and the man turned slightly. His hood obscured most of his face, but the scruff of salt and pepper stubble on his chin told her he was at least middle age or older. She stood frozen for a moment trying to reconcile this reality with the image she'd created in her head. She'd always assumed he was her contemporary, young and headstrong. She'd always felt a sort of kinship with him despite the anonymity of their relationship, and to see that he was closer to Mitch's age than hers startled her.

"Genie," he greeted. Next to her, Mitch turned his head sharply to glance at her. She hadn't gotten around to divulging the particulars about her own blog, or the reason behind the nickname, though he'd seen her tattoo more than once. No doubt his brilliant mind had already made the connection and was now pondering just how this stranger knew as well. Deciding that could wait until later, she offered Robin a perfunctory smile and slid into the booth seat opposite him. Mitch sat next to her, his critical gaze sweeping over their new companion quickly.

"Mitch Morgan," Robin beat her to the introductions, and both of them started in surprise. It was still a bit disconcerting to know they were somewhat famous around the world. The priest in Britain had mentioned something about following their exploits, but she had been so wrapped up in solving the next piece of their puzzle that she honestly hadn't given it much thought. The surreality of it came back in a rush as Mitch took control of the conversation.

"We haven't met," he said. His tone was gruff and to the point; Mitch didn't have many friends and this guy wasn't one of them.

"No," Robin laughed, his green eyes alight with amusement. "But I have heard of you." He glanced back at Jamie and his smile softened into familiarity. "I can't say I'm honestly surprised to find out that The Girl with the Genie Tattoo and Jamie Campbell are one in the same."

Jamie realized she was quickly losing control of the interview, and she utilized her years of journalism experience to redirect the conversation. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with us. With everything going on…" She let the end of her sentence trail off, allowing Robin to interpret as he would.

He didn't disappoint. "When they announced the Noah Objective, my friends and I immediately moved to counter it. We didn't get very far."

"No one did," Jamie replied sadly. "We almost had something, but it fell through at the last minute." She winced internally at the cold description of the attack that had claimed fifteen lives, including the bright-eyed girl that had been so hopeful about riding a horse again. Outwardly, though, she maintained her cool expression.

"Did you hear about the attacks at the Russian Embassy?" Robin leaned in a conspiratorially, and Jamie just nodded. She didn't want to reveal too much, and so kept the fact that they had been there to herself. "Well, rumors on the net are it was no random attack."

"What do you mean?" Mitch asked.

"I mean, come on," Robin laughed quietly, "there were no reported animal sightings anywhere near Wisconsin and suddenly there are huge angry gorillas? Not buying it. Word is they were released intentionally."

"Why?" Jamie felt a fire in her chest that was somewhere between confusion and rage.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Robin replied. "Russia was the biggest obstacle to the Noah Objective. An attack on their embassy would all but guarantee their support."

Jamie was stunned into silence. She'd known General Davies was a ruthless man, but to unleash that kind of madness on innocent people was unconscionable. A slow, burning anger began in the pit of her stomach. Davies was going to pay for it, and for Chloe. Jamie would make sure of it. She opened her mouth to ask for any proof, any lead she could follow to the man's demise, but Mitch had other ideas.

"Jamie said you could help us," he interjected. "We're looking for an island called Pangaea, possibly run by people that call themselves The Shepherds. Have you ever heard of them?" Now it was his turn to pull them back on track and Jamie forced herself to focus on the task at hand.

Robin leaned back in his seat and didn't say anything for a few moments. His eyes moved from Jamie to Mitch and back again, seemingly assessing each of them in turn. "I might have. I have a few people I can try, but I don't carry their information on me. It's at my house."

"Great," Mitch scooted toward Jamie immediately. "Let's go."

"Not you," Robin pointed his finger at Mitch, then at Jamie. "Just her."

"Absolutely not." Mitch's tone left no room for argument, no compromise.

But Jamie knew this was their only chance. If they didn't get this information then the rest of the team could be in danger. Mitch had been right before; there was no telling how much Robert Oz had actually shared with his son. The more information they had, the better their chances. "Okay."

"Okay?" Mitch barked. "It's not okay. You can't just go off with someone you've never met!"

"I'll give you two a minute," Robin stood and tucked his tablet into a messenger bag. As he slung it across his shoulders he added, "I'm leaving in two minutes either way. Blue Prius parked on the side of the building."

Jamie stood as he walked away, turning to face Mitch. He came to his feet just behind her, every muscle in his body tensed in frustration. She cut him off before he could begin one of his tirades. "Listen, it's not an ideal situation, but when has anything ever gone the way we planned it? This is our only lead."

"But you don't even know this guy," Mitch argued.

"Believe me," Jamie laughed mirthlessly, "I don't want to go. The last time I trusted someone I just met, he ended up betraying all of us to Davies. It's taking pretty much all of my willpower not to let him drive away. But if I do that we have nothing." She could see he was still unconvinced. His eyes were planted firmly on the far wall, his gaze over her head as he processed her logic. He knew she was right - he just didn't like it.

"Check in at regular intervals."

"Yes, sir." She mock saluted, unfazed by the glare he leveled at her. "Seriously, Mitch, it'll be fine. Why don't you work on getting us to Chile in one piece?" She raised herself up on her toes and kissed him quickly but warmly. She could feel the tension in him, and when she pulled back he gripped her hand fiercely.

"Be careful."

"I will," she promised. "I'll call you soon."

She turned and walked away before she could talk herself out of it. Robin was waiting with the car already in gear, and the moment she closed the door he backed out of the space and maneuvered toward the street.

"It's nice to finally meet you," Robin began. "My friends and I followed your work against Reiden pretty closely. Those bastards deserved to burn, and instead they get a federal pardon and a government contract."

Jamie really didn't want to talk about it, especially with someone she didn't really know, but alienating Robin now would only hurt her mission. She forced herself to stay friendly as she agreed.

"I've been reading your work for years as well," she added. "The science always went over my head, but I read every article you posted."

Robin laughed at that, a rich sound that reminded her of her uncle. "I suspect Doctor Morgan has helped with that," he shot her a half-smile without taking his eyes off the road. "I did some research on him when the IADG announced he was their lead scientist for the cure. His work was largely discredited, and I wondered why they had chosen him for the project."

Jamie bristled at the implication. "He helped me with my initial work in L.A. when the lions escaped the zoo. He was a part of the original team that had been assembled, before the IADG grew to what it is now. He'd already done all of the groundwork for the cure. It wouldn't have made sense to bring in a new scientist when Mitch had already developed the majority of the work."

"There were rumors circulating that they were thinking about replacing him after the plane crash."

Jamie turned slightly in her seat to level a glare at him. "Why the sudden interest in Mitch?"

"I don't trust him," Robin admitted. "Occupational hazard. I was just wondering how much you did."

"I trust Mitch with my life," Jamie answered quickly.

"I'm sorry if my questions offended you," Robin shook his head. "That's not my intention. I just...need to be sure before I can help you." He navigated the small car through the streets into a small subdivision. Jamie tried to keep up with the turns, but by the time they pulled into the driveway on Copper Lane she was a bit lost.

"Welcome to my home." He pressed a button on his key fob and opened the garage, parking the Prius neatly in the center of the space. He closed the outside door with the same button and gestured for Jamie to follow.

It wasn't anything like she'd expected. Jamie had always pictured Robin sitting in a small apartment surrounded by computer screens, monitoring global news for anything noteworthy and blogging in a dark room.

The lower floor was well lit by the sun shining through the gossamer curtains on the picture window of the dining room. Jamie caught a glimpse of a granite counter-topped kitchen and stainless steel appliances as they breezed past the kitchen toward the stairs. The hallway that ran the length of the house ended with the front door, locked tight with two deadbolts and a chain. On the right was a sitting room with several televisions mounted on the wall. On the left, a set of carpeted stairs led to the upper floor.

Every door on the second level was closed, except for the bathroom. Robin opened the first one they came to, and Jamie stifled a smile. A large, half-moon desk sat almost in the center of the room, topped by five computer monitors. Two towers sat on the floor on either side, identical save for the color of the light that glowed from within. Robin pulled his laptop from his back and hooked it up to the network, connecting it to the center screen.

"I don't have another chair in here," he offered by way of an apology. "But you can have this one in a minute. I just need to start the call."

"Who are you calling?"

"My friend," he told her. "He can explain it all."

Jamie was getting more nervous by the minute, but leaving now would be impossible. She could call Mitch, but she wasn't sure where she was or how to get to him. Her paranoia ratcheted up a notch, and Robin seemed to sense her discomfort.

"It's alright, Jamie. No one's going to hurt you." He glanced down at her hands, and Jamie realized one was already clutching her phone in her pocket. "You can call Doctor Morgan while I get this set up. Shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes."

Jamie stepped out into the hall and hit the number connected to Mitch's speed dial. He picked up before the first ring faded. "Jamie?"

"Yeah, I'm here. We just got to Robin's house."

"Where are you?"

"Uh...about twenty minutes from the coffee shop," she said. "There were a lot of turns, but I think the street name is Copper Lane?"

She could practically hear him pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Alright, are you safe?"

"Yeah." Jamie was surprised at the speed of her answer; just moments ago she'd wondered the same thing. "Robin wants me to talk to his friend. Hopefully he has some answers about the Shepherds."

"Well, I'm still working on getting us to Chile, but it's not going to be easy. Worse comes to worse, I'll have to ask Allison."

Jamie didn't like that idea, but they didn't have a lot of options. She knew Mitch already knew that, so she didn't say so. "Okay. I'll call you when I know more. I love you."

"Love you, too. Be safe." He disconnected first, and Jamie tucked her phone back into her pocket feeling a little better.

"Jamie?" Robin called from his office, and Jamie took a few steadying breaths before stepping inside.

A sharp-featured man with a hooked nose and dark, piercing eyes stared at her from the computer screen. Robin had vacated his seat, turning it invitingly for Jamie as he made introductions.

"Jamie, this is Bruce. Bruce, Jamie Campbell."

Jamie bit down on a Batman joke, silently cursed Mitch for his obviously bad influence, and smiled politely. "Hello."

"It's nice to finally meet you, Jamie," Bruce inclined his head briefly. "We've been following you for quite some time."

"Yes, that's what he said." Jamie shifted in the plush chair, making sure to stay on the edge and not sink back into the soft leather. "He also said you could provide information about Pangaea and the Shepherds."

Bruce steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. "What do you want to know?"

"Who they are," Jamie began. "Why they exist. Where Pangaea is." She knew, of course, but the first rule of information gathering was not letting them know how much you already knew. She'd learned a lot by playing dumb.

"We can help you with two of those," Bruce said cryptically. "But the location of Pangaea is still a secret we have yet to uncover."

Jamie thought about the string of numbers on Mitch's phone, coordinates that would lead them - anyone - right to the Shepherds front door. Something about Bruce's intense stare unnerved her, so she kept the information to herself for now.

"So who are they?" she asked instead.

Bruce sat back in his chair and let his folded hands fall to his lap. He smiled, though Jamie felt no warmth from it. "The Shepherds are a group that began in the mid-nineteenth century, at the end of the first Industrial Revolution. Iron production processes, chemical manufacturing, steam engines - the innovations grew so rapidly the world had a difficult time keeping up. A small group became concerned that with the development of these new technologies the earth would begin to suffer, that one day human progress would be the undoing of this planet. They began monitor and tracking potential threats to the natural order of things. When the mutation popped up, they were the first to begin to find a way to counteract it."

"I still don't understand their role in all of this," Jamie shook her head. "How could a group monitor the entire planet in the eighteenth century?"

"That part is still a mystery, Miss Campbell. The Shepherds have always had technology that baffles the mind. Did you know there are rumors that they began genetic tampering as early as 1895? We didn't even have a great grasp on it until the mid-1900's!"

"Yeah, we'd heard that," Jamie admitted. "Do you know how?"

"We do not."

"You keep saying 'we,'" Jamie glanced up at Robin briefly, the question in her eyes.

Bruce gave her that smile again, the one that grated. "We are part of an...Initiative," Bruce began, "who are intent on preserving the natural world. We, like the Shepherds, see our industrial progress for what it is - the destruction of nature."

"So you're what? Radical environmentalists?"

Bruce scoffed. "That term is so...clumsy. We at the Initiative see ourselves as stewards of the natural world. It is our job to safeguard it."

"How does that make you different from the Shepherds?"

"The difference, my dear, is all the difference. The Shepherds have perverted their mission, have decided to play God. We try to slow the pollution of man - the Shepherds want to eradicate it. They now work against the natural order of the world." He paused - probably for dramatic effect, Jamie guessed. "But, at the moment, our causes are one and the same: to stop Reiden and the IADG from launching the Noah Objective. Which is where you come in."

"Me?"

"Yes. As we speak, the repository for the clean DNA is being shipped from a secure facility in D.C. to its final destination. We have tried and failed three times to retrieve it. But I believe with your cleverness, Doctor Morgan's intellect, and our resources we will be successful this time."

Jamie jerked in her seat. "You want us to steal the DNA?"

"This is our last chance to stop the Noah Objective. The countdown is currently sitting at forty hours. But without their clean DNA, Davies will have to stop the launch completely."

"And if I...we," she amended quickly. "If we can't help you. Then what?"

"It's not a question of ability, Miss Campbell. Only will. Either you agree to help us, in which case we give you access to a safe house, all of our plans, schematics of the base and all of the various resources at our disposal. Or you don't, and Robin takes you back to where he found you and you can watch the world end along with the rest of us." He leaned forward slightly in his chair, his dark eyes piercing through her. "I would think that after all of this time, all of the work you have done, the pain and hardship you have endured...I can't imagine anyone in your position not seizing the opportunity to end it once and for all."

Jamie stared dumbfoundedly for a moment as the enormity of his words sunk in. "I need to talk to Mitch. I can't make this decision on my own."

"Fair enough." Bruce opened his hands in a gesture of acceptance. "I will await your answer." He reached forward and his image winked out.

Next to her, Robin shifted. "I'll leave you for a moment. Would you like some tea? A bottle of water, perhaps?"

"No, thank you." Jamie waited until he had left before pulling her phone out. Mitch answered on the second ring this time, and Jamie relayed everything to him in a matter of minutes.

"Why does it feel like everytime we hit a roadblock, things just get weirder and weirder?" he grumbled. "Now we're part of a heist?"

"No," Jamie swiveled absently in the chair, one foot tucked under her and the other rocking back and forth on the floor. "Not yet, anyway. I wanted to talk to you, see what you think."

"I think it's insane," he told her honestly. "I also think we're stranded here. There are no flights in or out of the city. The nearest airport flying to Chile is O'Hare, and unless you've got a car stashed away in D.C. somewhere, we're stuck."

"So there's no way to rejoin the others." Jamie felt her heart drop. After everything, she was going to miss the final leg of the journey. They'd come so far from two lions in L.A., and it felt wrong to sit on the sidelines while Jackson and the others worked toward the cure.

"What do you want to do?" Mitch asked.

"I...I know I don't want to do nothing. Sitting here, waiting for the end -" She didn't have to finish her sentence; Mitch could likely hear the disgust in her tone.

"So you want to do it. Steal the clean DNA?"

Jamie chewed her lip thoughtfully, weighing all of the outcomes. Worst case scenario, they were caught and killed trying to stop the Noah Objective. Best case, they prevent the end of the world. She didn't mind those odds so much. "Yeah, I want to do it."

"What the hell?" he answered. "We got nothing better to do."

Robin was delighted to hear the news. He called Bruce immediately and told him, earning Jamie another round of joyous smiles and gratitude. He signed off with a firm wish for them to be careful and a "good luck." Jamie hoped they had more than that.

Robin assured her they did. He gave her a burner phone and had her call Mitch with the address to a safe house. Once she hung up he ushered her back downstairs and into the Prius, his entire demeanor much more open and friendly now that he had their support. On the drive over, he chatted her to amicably about their first attempts to steal the DNA, first from the secure facility where it was created, then during transport, then again from where they had stored it at Fort Knox. Jamie was impressed with that last one - attempting to steal anything from Fort Knox was akin to suicide. Or at the very least, imprisonment for life.

"It was worth it," Robin told her. "Every one of the men on that mission knew the risks and chose to go anyway. For the fate of the world, who wouldn't?"

Who wouldn't indeed, Jamie thought. She'd had the same thought before, knowing her life was inconsequential when faced with the extinction of the species. The young, idealistic girl that had repeatedly taken on a corporate giant day after day was proud of her decision. The cynical woman who'd done what she had to in order to survive the harsh reality of the world now was screaming at her to abandon the plan, grab Mitch and hide away from the chaos that was about to erupt. She silenced the second voice with some effort, focusing on what Robin was saying about their target.

"It's a crate, large enough to hold DNA samples of every animal on the planet. The plan of attack is on a tablet at the safe house, but I can tell you it involves taking out the team after they load it into the truck. With the distraction we'll provide, you should have plenty of time to drive it off the base and to a predetermined location where it will be destroyed. With the DNA gone, and no other source of viable samples, they'll have no choice but to cancel the launch."

"You make it sound so easy," Jamie shook her head. "That thing will be guarded. Heavily guarded."

"That's where I come in," Robin smiled at her. "I'm your distraction." He turned onto a residential street and indicated the third house on the left. "Here we are. Doctor Morgan is meeting you here?"

"He said he'd grab a ride from the 'urban transport thugs.'"

"Good, then he should be here soon. I'll pick you both up tomorrow at noon. Our intel says the package is being moved at three o'clock. That should give us enough time to go over the plan one more time before we make our way to the base." He held out a small envelope. "Here's the key to the house. There are burner cells and secure laptops inside. Don't use your personal ones. We don't know if Davies is tracking your movements. I'll see you tomorrow."

He didn't stick around. The moment she shut the door, he backed out of the driveway and sped off down the street. Jamie stood there for a moment, taking in her surroundings. They appeared to be nothing more than a quiet neighborhood with tall trees and lush, green grass. She wondered how many of the houses on this street still had people living in them, and how many had been abandoned in the wake of the apocalypse that had gripped the nation. Did any of them contain the bodies of their former occupants, too slow in escape and victims of the rampage of animals that had seemingly swept over the city months ago? Were there any animals still sheltered within, waiting for their next victim?

Jamie shook off the questions and hurried for the door. She locked it behind her once inside, silently hoping Mitch wasn't too far away. She didn't much like being alone anymore, and his presence would go a long way toward banishing the cold that was creeping in her mind. She busied herself with a quick tour of the house. It was a simple, one story home with three bedrooms, two baths, and a small backyard. The grass out back had been overgrown with weeds, which made the neat, well-manicured front lawn something of a mystery. The kitchen was stocked with non-perishable items, and Jamie was suddenly reminded she hadn't eaten anything since that morning. Her stomach rumbled at the prospect of food, but she just grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and decided to wait for Mitch.

She didn't have to wait long. Ten minutes after she'd settled on the couch with one of the tablets left there, a knock broke the silence. She crept to the door and peered through the peephole, sighing in relief at the sight of his familiar form on the other side. She yanked the door open and grabbed him in a hug, and they stumbled back into the foyer with his arms still around her.

"Miss me?" he joked quietly, but the tight band of his arms around her told her he'd been just as worried for her.

"Well, I did leave you unsupervised. There's no telling what you could have gotten up to."

Mitch let her go and glanced around the house briefly before returning her teasing smile with one of his own. "Not much," he shrugged. "At least, not as much as you. I leave you alone for thirty minutes and suddenly we're conscripted into a heist."

"Not just any heist," she shot back.

"Right, how could I forget?" He followed her into the sitting area just off and to the right of the door. "We've skipped bank jobs and art galleries and went straight for military strongbox."

Jamie sat down on the couch and grabbed the tablet she'd discarded moments ago. "I know this is dangerous, and you have your daughter to think about. If you don't want to do this..." she looked up at him earnestly, searching for any sign of hesitation in him. They could lose everything - their freedom, their lives - and she wouldn't go through with it if he wasn't completely on board.

He seemed to understand what she was looking for, and as he sank down next to her he plucked the device from her hands. It clattered as he tossed it a little less than gently onto the formica coffee table. He replaced it with his own hands, and Jamie felt the warmth from his fingers seeping into her skin like the first rays of sunlight on a frozen pond.

"I didn't agree to this because you asked me," he said. "Okay, not only because you asked me," he amended at her pointed look. "I agreed because it's the right thing to do. You and I - and apparently everyone else except Davies and his goons - know that the Noah Objective is a monumentally, colossal, stupid, horrible idea. It's effectively the end of the human race. We have to stop it, no matter the cost. Clem -" Jamie watched his throat catch on his daughter's name, then dip as he swallowed thickly and tried again. She gripped his hands more firmly, as though she could will some of her strength into him. "Clem has her mom and Justin and Henry. She'll be fine. If my choices are die with you trying to do the right thing, or live with that regret hanging over me for the rest of my life, then there's no choice at all."

And just like that, Jamie fell in love with him all over again.

"Besides," he added with a roguish grin, "I can't let you have all the glory if this thing actually works."

Jamie shoved his shoulder so hard he almost fell off the couch, but they were both grinning as he righted himself. "Here," she grabbed the tablet and thumbed it on. "I didn't get very far before you arrived, but it's all on here."

They studied the plan for almost an hour until their stomachs growled loudly. Mitch glanced up at the clock and stretched. It was nearing seven and the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows through the picture window.

"Is there any food in this place?"

"Oh, yeah." Jamie stood and started for the kitchen. "It's mostly canned goods and water, but I'm sure we can find something."

Mitch uncovered several jars in the freezer that turned out to be frozen pasta sauce. Jamie found a box of pasta to go with it, and in less than thirty minutes they returned to the couch laden with plates of spaghetti and drinks. Mitch found a remote for the television and clicked it on.

"You think there's anything on other than news?" Jamie wondered.

"Let's find out." He flipped through the channels quickly, thirteen in all, until it started over. "Looks like local only." He found an old black and white movie, turned the volume up a bit, and tucked into his meal.

"Never pegged you as the Turner Classic Movie type."

"I don't really watch TV," he spoke around the bite he'd already taken. "Between the zoo and classes, I didn't really have much free time."

"Well, it's better than the news, anyway." She settled back into the cushions with her dinner and let her mind focus on the movie. If she tried hard enough, she could almost pretend that this was real, that none of the fifteen months had happened and that she and Mitch were simply enjoying a quiet evening together.

Would they have ever met, she wondered, if the mutation hadn't occurred? Los Angeles was, by anyone's standards, a huge city teeming with millions of people. The odds of her simply running into him on the street were astronomical. Her aunt had always believed in the concept of soulmates, but Jamie had never been sold on it. The idea that some preordained destiny had any say in her life didn't sit well with her. But the more she thought about it the more she realized that had any one thing in her life happened differently, she might not have ever met Mitch at all. If her mom hadn't died, if she'd given up her fight against Reiden when everyone else had told her to let it go, if she had taken the job at the Times instead of the Telegraph, if she had taken Ethan up on his offer of a reset...and that wasn't even considering everything that had happened in his life that put him at the L.A. Zoo at precisely the right moment. It gave her a headache to think about the possibilities.

"Earth to Jamie."

She blinked and realized too late that her eyes had been focusing, not on the television, but on a spot somewhere down and to the left. "Sorry," she set her half-eaten dinner down on the coffee table. "I was just...what's up?"

"I was going to ask if you wanted seconds, but it looks like you're not done with firsts." He set his empty plate next to hers. "Whatcha thinking about?"

"What ifs," she explained vaguely.

"You'll drive yourself crazy."

"I know, but I can't help it. Writer's brain." She sank back into the plush sofa and tried to focus on the movie, but her mind was keyed up. Mitch seemed to sense her restlessness and switched the TV off.

"Okay, let's have it."

"Have what?"

"Whatever it is that's got you sighing every five seconds." He turned and tucked one leg under him, resting his back against the arm of the couch as he laid one arm along the top.

Jamie chewed her lip thoughtfully, wondering how she should start. Finally she decided on blurting it out and dealing with the aftermath later. "Do you believe in fate?"

The question didn't surprise him as much as she thought it would. "No," he answered simply. "No, I think some things happen by chance, but ultimately the choices we make determine what happens in our lives. For instance, it was chance that I was working that morning instead of Doctor Bohner, so when you called the zoo looking for a vet it was me who met you instead of him. But it was my choice to ask you to lunch afterward. It was my choice to go looking for cats in Brentwood, my choice to ask you to get a drink after class the next day, or to go to Louisiana with you. I guess you could call it fate, but I don't really believe there's some mystical force that sets things into motion. Other than, you know, the actual forces that set things into motion, but that's just basic physics and -"

"Mitch?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up." She pushed herself up and over to him in a fluid motion, settling against his body solid and warm as she kissed him. He responded easily, raising one hand to thread through her hair as her arms snaked over his shoulders. He shifted enough to take her weight, allowing her to lay along his body as he stretched his legs out under her. His lips were eager against hers but slow, letting her set the pace.

Their dinner lay forgotten as they made out on the couch. Jamie had a brief nostalgic flashback to her teenage years and getting caught in much the same position at her boyfriend's house. She'd gone there after school to study, but teenage hormones being what they were, the textbooks had never made it out of their backpacks. At the time, she'd thought nothing of his frenzied hurry, or the rough, inexperienced press of his hands at her waist. His kisses had grown more insistent as he not-so-subtly hinted at his intentions. They were interrupted by the front door opening rather suddenly, and Jamie ended up on the floor as he scrambled in his panic.

His parents had been stern but understanding; Uncle Bo, not so much. He'd railed at her for nearly two hours about propriety and decency, about respecting herself and her body. She'd sat in stoic silence, hearing the lecture but not accepting it. She had known full well what she was doing, she'd told him once his ire had finally died down. She wouldn't have let it go too far. He'd called her naive and young before banishing her to her room. He'd been right.

But she was older now, wiser and more knowledgeable in both the ways of the world and her own pleasure. And Mitch was no Tommy Baker. She hummed in appreciation as his hand slid beneath the hem of her shirt. His fingers were warm on her skin, skimming along the curve of her back but traveling no further. Jamie made a sound that was halfway between a moan and a whine, and she felt Mitch's chest hitch with laughter beneath her.

"Did you find a bedroom on your tour earlier?" he murmured against her lips. "Not that this doesn't work for me." He let both of his hands drift to her hips, pulling her further into his body to demonstrate just how well this was working for him.

Jamie let her head fall to his shoulder at the contact, her breath escaping her in a quiet gasp. When she found her voice again, it was practically a growl. "Mitch." It was both a plea and a warning, and he answered earnestly.

They found the bedroom eventually.

The sun was just rising when they emerged freshly showered and dressed in sweats and matching black t-shirts. They had been surprised to find the closet and dresser stocked with clothes of all sizes, though it was abundantly clear someone had bought them in bulk from a box store.

"I'll clean up dinner," Jamie offered. "See if there's a laundry room somewhere."

Twenty minutes later the dishes were clean and their clothes were cycling through the washer. Jamie grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and joined Mitch back on the couch. He was focused on the tablet, perusing the plan again to make sure he understood it, and he accepted the bottle she offered without looking up.

"Are you scared?" It hadn't been what she meant to ask him, but his face was a mixture of intense concentration and a hint of worry. It unnerved her.

"We're breaking into a secure government facility to steal the one thing that's probably guarded more closely than the president." He swiped the screen with one finger, then glanced up at her. "Are you scared?"

"Terrified," she admitted. "But we have to do this."

"I agree." He handed the device off to her and stood. "I'm going to grab the laptop and call my mom. And Clem. I need to at least try to reach them before…" he trailed off hesitantly, but Jamie understood. Even if everything went perfectly, they would probably be fugitives for the rest of their lives. She had the sudden urge to hear her uncle's voice, and she reached for the burner phone on the table as Mitch disappeared back into the bedroom.

It was still early in Louisiana, but Bo and Fran Armstrong had been rising before the sun for decades. It didn't surprise Jamie at all to hear her aunt's voice answer the phone with a chipper greeting.

"Hello?"

"Hi Aunt Fran."

"Jamie? It's good to hear you, sweetie! Where are you?"

"I'm, uh, I'm not sure." She hated lying, but the less her family knew, the safer they would be. "I just wanted to call and check in. How are things?"

"Fine, fine," Fran told her. "Your uncle's outside mending a hole in the fence line. That pack of dogs that's roaming the area is getting bolder. Charlie's out there with him."

"Well, tell them to be careful. They don't want to get bitten."

"Oh, they know. Tucker's boy got bit last month and it got infected. Poor thing had to be taken to county and sedated, but the doc says he ain't never seen anything like it."

Jamie remembered Tucker Bradson from Reese's class. He'd always been a bit of a rebel but had mellowed out when his high school sweetheart had gotten pregnant with a little girl. He'd proposed right after graduation. Married life suited him, and Jamie had been a senior when he'd announced the arrival of his second child - a little boy named Matthew.

She'd seen firsthand what the mutation looked like in humans. Watching Jackson slowly deteriorate, knowing there was nothing she could do, was heartbreaking; she couldn't imagine watching a child suffer through it. Sedation was probably the best for him, though it wouldn't take long for his body to overcome its effect. Jamie didn't want to think about the options that would be left.

"How is Mitch?"

Fran's question pulled her out of her dark thoughts, and Jamie couldn't help the smile that stretched her face. "He's good. He's talking to his mom in California right now."

"He told me about her when he was here. She sounds delightful."

"She is," Jamie agreed. "I spoke to her a few days ago. She's in a safe zone in California."

"Jamie?" Fran's tone dropped a bit, the light, casual air falling away. "When is this all going to be over?"

"Soon, Aunt Fran. I promise." Jamie couldn't say more, not if it put her family and Mitch's in danger. But one way or another, it would all be over soon.

"And then you'll come home?"

Jamie's breath caught in her throat and she felt tears stinging her eyes. She could never go home again, and suddenly she wanted nothing more. But the fate of the world was at stake, and Jamie was prepared to make that sacrifice if it meant her nieces and nephews - kids like Tucker's son - got to grow up healthy and safe. "Yeah," she forced out, trying to sound as normal as possible. "Then I'll come home."

Fran's silence told her that she hadn't been fooled by Jamie's words. For a few seconds the only sound on the line was their breathing, and then Fran spoke. "I love you, Jamie. Please don't ever forget that."

"I won't, and I love you, too. So much. All of you. I never -" she choked back on a quiet sob. "I never did thank you and Uncle Bo for taking me in after Mom died. For being there when I needed you, even if I didn't think so."

"Oh honey," Fran was crying now, and Jamie didn't stop the tears that rolled down her cheeks, "you never have to thank us for that. We're family, and we love you so much. And we're so proud of the strong, beautiful woman you've become. I know your mama is, too, sweet pea."

The endearment was one Jamie hadn't heard in a long time, and it slid warm and sure straight to her heart. This time she didn't bother hiding the sob that escaped her, bubbling out on top of a laugh that echoed in her ear. Through the line she heard a door open and close, and then the deep bass of her uncle's voice asking Fran why she was crying.

"Can I talk to Uncle Bo?"

"Sure, sure." There was a bit of static, then her uncle's voice, full and rich.

"Jamie?"

"Hi Uncle Bo."

"Why is your aunt crying? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jamie wiped her face dry with her free hand. "I just...we got a little sentimental, is all. How are you?"

"We're fine. Patched up the fence again. Damn dogs tore another hole."

"Listen," Jamie sniffed and cleared her throat to make sure her words were understood. "I need you and the family to stay inside for the next day or two. Can you do that?"

"Jamie, what's going on?"

"It's fine," she hurried to reassure him, "I just want to make sure. Promise me?"

"Sure, bug. We'll stay here. Does this have something to do with that countdown that's all over the news?"

"The Noah Objective, yes. Sort of. It won't hurt anyone - it's meant to kill the animals - but I don't want to take any chances." She couldn't tell the truth - that it would also take out millions of people. She didn't think her family had the ghost gene, but she couldn't take that chance. Being indoors wouldn't likely protect them from the gas if that was the case, but every little bit helped her peace of mind.

"We'll stay inside, Jamie. I promise."

"Okay. I'll call you in a few days to check in. I love you, Uncle Bo."

"Love you, too, bug. Bye."

Jamie waited until she heard the click on his end before setting the phone down. It was likely the last time she'd talk to her family, and she took a few moments to commit their last words to her to memory. Another sob rose in her throat, this one more violent and devastating, and she buried her face in her hands as she wept. Soft footsteps padded quickly across the carpet, and soon she was wrapped in a strong embrace. Mitch's own voice was thick as he comforted her, and she was reminded that he'd just said goodbye to his own mother moments ago.

"Shh," she felt his soft consolation rumble through his chest as she leaned into him, burying her face in his shirt as she continued to cry. He leaned back against the couch and brought her with him. She felt his lips press soft kisses into her hair, and she let herself relax in his arms as her grief washed over her.

She stayed there even after her tears had dried, drawing strength and solace from the man next to her. She could feel from the way he was clutching at her that he was doing the same, and she shifted slightly to slip her arms around his waist and squeeze.

"It's not too late to back out," he whispered. "We can get a flight to Louisiana and wait it out with your family."

It was tempting and selfish and Jamie almost said yes. But she couldn't. They'd come too far to quit now. She turned her head to press a kiss into his shoulder before sitting up.

"Let's go save the world."

Robin picked them up a few hours later, his dark clothing a match for the somber mood that settled over the trio. He waved silently as they exited the house, closing the door on what was likely their last moments of freedom. Jamie reached for Mitch's hand as they walked down the short sidewalk to the driveway.

"Hello," Robin greeted them as they slipped into the car. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Jamie answered curtly. "Are you?"

"I am."

As they drove across town, Jamie ran through the plan again out loud to make sure everyone was on the same page. Robin would drop them a block from the base, then provide a distraction that would allow them to breach the fence line. Once they were inside, they had to find the crate, follow it and take out the squad protecting it before it was driven off base. Jamie briefly wished Dariela were here; this was exactly the kind of op she excelled at.

Robin dropped them right where Jamie had seen on the map. He gave them a duffel from the trunk that held two loaded tranq rifles. Jamie appreciated the non-lethal option.

"Good luck," Robin saluted them with a quick touch of his finger to his brow before driving away. Jamie took one more deep breath, nodded at Mitch, and set off toward the base.

The first part of the plan went off like clockwork. With Robin's distraction at the front gate, Jamie and Mitch made it past a chain link fence with no resistance. Mitch pulled the weapons out and tossed the bag aside. Jamie accepted one of them and spent the walk to the building growing accustomed to the feel of it in her hand. They kept to the back corridors and shadows as much as possible, but it wasn't really necessary. The place was almost deserted.

A steady rumble of wheels on concrete caught her attention, and she nodded toward the sound. Mitch took the lead, leaning just his head around the corner for a brief second to scope the area.

"Come on."

They followed the package through the halls, their footsteps careful but still audible. Jamie winced as she rounded a corner too fast and hit the butt of her rifle into the concrete. The noise echoed down the hall, and for a moment they both froze. If they were caught now, this would have all been for nothing. But no one came running after them, and Jamie let out a soft sigh of relief.

Another corner brought the sound of an engine and she realized they were at the end of the line. The next few minutes would determine everything, and she gripped the weapon in her hand just a little tighter as she readied herself.

Mitch took the first step, angling his body to maintain cover while raising his weapon. Jamie mirrored him, throwing herself to the other side of the hall to stay out of his line of fire. But no one attacked. Jamie looked at the prone bodies strewn on the floor in confusion.

"What the hell?" They took a few tentative steps forward, and Jamie wrinkled her nose. "What's that smell? It's like cotton candy."

Mitch grabbed for the handkerchief in his pocket frantically, shoving it at her. "Cover your mouth and nose," he ordered quickly. She did, and he tucked the collar of his unbuttoned top shirt over his face. "It's halothane. Knockout gas." They stepped carefully over the body of a soldier, then another. "Someone else is after the DNA."

They were careful but quick, moving toward the loading dock and the crate. It was half-loaded in the back of the truck, surrounded by the unconscious squad of men who were supposed to protect it.

"There it is," Jamie rushed forward. "Let's take it and go."

Movement from the front of the truck had her shuffling a step back, and Mitch leveled his weapon at the threat immediately. "Drop your weapon!" he yelled.

A man stepped forward slowly, his face covered by a military-issue gas mask. There was something familiar about him, and as he reached up to remove the mask Jamie gasped.

"Logan?"

"Hello Jamie."

It was impossible. She'd watched him fall from the plane, unable to pull his own chute. There was no way he could have survived, no way he could be standing here now. But there he was, just a hint of a smug smile playing around his lips. Jamie was immediately reminded of what he'd done, how his betrayal had hurt her. Mitch seemed to remember as well. Jamie jumped at the quiet hiss of a dart leaving his rifle, and Logan looked down in surprise at the bright feathered dart now sticking in his chest. It didn't seem to faze him, and Mitch fired again. And again. He ended up with four darts in him before he knocked on his vest.

"Dude, I'm wearing kevlar."

A speaker on a nearby wall crackled to life, and a warning about a security breach warbled from it. Jamie was done wasting time.

"Not on your face," she raised her own rifle, aiming directly at his slowly fading smirk. Mitch moved quickly around him, pulling the handgun from his side holster and holding it on him.

"Jamie, get in the truck."

She shouldered her rifle and ran to the crate. She leaned her full weight against it, straining to push it the last few feet into the back of the truck, but it wouldn't budge. "It's too heavy."

Logan still had his hands held out, but at Jamie's words his smile returned. "You're not getting out of here without my help."

Jamie caught Mitch's question the moment he glanced her direction. Wordlessly, she shrugged one shoulder. They could deal with Logan once they were free. Mitch didn't like it but they didn't have much of a choice. He dashed for the driver's seat as Logan stepped up next to her and helped her shove the crate into the back.

"How are you here?" Jamie asked quietly. "I watched you fall."

"Yeah," he grunted. "Out of the back of a plane. With a tranq dart in my chest. Thanks for that." The crate slid neatly into the cargo compartment as Mitch called a warning. "Lucky for me my altimeter deployed my chute." He reached back and shut the rear doors.

"You in?" Mitch called.

"Yeah!"

Jamie braced against the side of the truck as Mitch gunned the gas. From her vantage point she could see through the windshield, and for a brief moment she felt a thrill of excitement as they sped away with their stolen goods.

Sirens and screeching tires brought her joy to a halt along with the truck. Half a dozen armed soldiers exited the three trucks in front of them, along with General Davies himself.

"Freeze!" One of the soldiers shouted unnecessarily.

"Step out of the truck!" Davies ordered. "Step out of the truck now!"

Jamie saw Mitch reaching for the handle, but before she could protest he glanced over his shoulder. "I'm gonna buy us some time. Make it count." He shut the door behind him, but Davies was loud enough that she could hear his condescending tone through the doors as he identified Mitch.

"Only you would be arrogant enough to doom the entire planet by stealing that DNA just because your cure didn't work. Well I've got news for you. You failed. Again."

"Not yet," Mitch answered flatly, and through the window she could just barely make out his hand curled around something as he held them up. "We rigged up a little something in the back. My thumb comes off this button…I'd back up if I were you."

Mitch's bluff gave Jamie an idea. "You have any grenades?"

Logan looked appalled. "No, absolutely not. I need this DNA!"

"Why? So you can sell it? Do you even have a soul?"

"I don't need one after the check for this job clears."

Jamie hadn't expected anything more of him, but the fate of the world was more important than his bank account. "If Davies gets a hold of this DNA, it is over," she impressed. "We have to destroy it."

She left no room for argument. He stared at her for a few hard seconds before caving. "You're killing me right now." He pulled a grenade from his pocket and a piece of paracord, running it around the lever and twisting it round and round.

"What are you doing?" Jamie was vaguely aware of Davies and Mitch trading barbs outside the truck, but she could only watch as Logan fastened the string to the roof.

"According to you? The right thing. It's a little trick I learned from a guy." He kept spinning the grenade, winding the string tighter and tighter. "As the lace unwinds it slowly undoes the knot, which releases -"

"I don't care how it works," she cut him off. "Just tell me what it's gonna do."

"It's a delayed fuse."

"How much time do we have?"

"Twenty seconds."

"Take him," she heard Davies order, and she knew they were out of time.

"Twenty seconds?" she asked.

Logan pulled the pin and let go. "Nineteen now."

They burst from the back of the truck as the soldiers accompanying Davies opened the doors. Jamie held her hands up as they led her and Logan around to the front of the truck. Mitch looked at her apologetically.

"They called my bluff."

Jamie's steps quickened as her mental countdown hit one. "Wasn't a bluff!" It was all the warning he got, but it was enough. She felt him grab her and turn as the grenade detonated. The blast drove them forward, and a few unlucky soldiers were thrown to the ground. The truck was heavy enough to block any potentially deadly shrapnel, but there was no doubt that the DNA had been destroyed.

Mitch's stunned expression was amusing, but Davies' was wholly satisfying. He stared at the still-burning rear of the truck with a mixture of awe and horror on his face. "You just killed the Noah Objective."

"That was the idea, yeah," Jamie shot back.

His eyes flashed in anger, and for a brief second Jamie feared he would lash out and strike her. But the anger faded just as quickly as it had come, leaving only resigned failure in its wake. "Restrain them."

Their wrists were zip-tied tightly before three soldiers lined them up against the truck. Davies had the others extinguish the fire before pulling the wrecked remains of the crate from the back. There was no doubt that whatever had been inside was now thoroughly destroyed.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Davies demanded.

Mitch shuffled slightly next to her. "Pretty sure we just ruined your little genocide."

"You just destroyed humanity's last hope!"

Jamie raised her chin defiantly. "Now you have no choice but to try and cure the animals."

"Sir," a clean-shaven man with a name tag that read Mansdale approached. "What do you want to do with them?"

Davies pulled his phone from his pocket and looked down at it sadly. "Secure them for transport." He walked away and disappeared around a group of vehicles, no doubt to call in his failure and ask for direction.

They were left alone for a moment as Mansdale followed his commanding officer, and Jamie leaned in toward Mitch to keep her words from reaching their armed guards a few feet away. "I'm sorry, it was the only thing we could do." She hadn't wanted it to end like this - they would be tried as criminals and sent to prison, probably for the rest of their lives. It was very likely she'd never see him again, and suddenly the thought paralyzed her. Her head fell to his shoulder and she felt him shift slightly to press his lips into her hair.

"You did the right thing," he reassured her.

"They'll prosecute us for treason," she told him. "Your daughter -"

"The others will make sure she knows the truth. Your family, too." He sounded so sure that Jamie almost believed him.

Mansdale returned without Davies, and Jamie straightened up in confusion as he silently ordered the guards to lower their weapons.

"You and Davies have a nice cry?" Mitch asked snidely.

Mansdale pulled his handgun from his side holster, loaded a bullet into the chamber with a swift pull of the slide and leveled it at Mitch's head. "Shut up!"

Jamie felt her heart rate spike as adrenaline slammed into her system. Every muscle in her body screamed to throw herself forward, but fear and surprise kept her rooted. Next to her she saw Mitch tense, but his voice stayed calm as he stared the soldier down. "You gonna kill us?"

"I said shut up!" He moved again, lightning quick, but it wasn't Mitch who went down. With three clean shots, all the soldiers surrounding them were dead in as many seconds and Mansdale holstered his weapon.

Jamie recoiled violently, her mouth falling open in shock as she tried to process what just happened. "Oh my God."

But Mansdale was already reaching for his tac knife. He cut their bonds quickly and handed Mitch the keys to one of the trucks. "There's a car wash on the corner of Lincoln and 223rd Street. I'll meet you there. I'm taking you to your friends."

Logan found his voice first. "Who are you?

"Someone who wants to see the world back the way it was."

"What about Davies?" Jamie asked. "What about the Noah Objective?"

"I'll take care of it," Mansdale stepped back. "Now go before Davies comes back."

They didn't have to be told twice. Jamie could feel her body quivering with energy as Mitch pushed her gently toward the vehicle. Logan was close behind, and he slid into the backseat as Mitch took the wheel.

"What the hell is going on?" Jamie asked once they were safely off the base and on the road. Logan had a map of the city pulled up on his phone, but Mitch seemed to know where he was going.

"I don't know," he told her. "But right now, I'm not gonna question it."

"You think we can trust Mansdale?" Logan sounded like he'd already answered his own question.

"No," Mitch shook his head, "but it's not like we have much choice. If he can get us to Pangaea, then we have to take the chance."

"Pangaea?"

Jamie half-turned in her seat to answer him. "It's a secret island off the coast of Chile that's home to an old organization of protectors who have genetically engineered saber-toothed cats and are the only thing standing in the way of global catastrophe."

He stared back blankly for a moment before he scoffed. "If you don't want to tell me, fine. But don't insult my intelligence." Jamie just held his gaze, raising one eyebrow when he seemed to waver. "Seriously?"

"Yep," Mitch confirmed. "And we need to get there as soon as possible to synthesize the cure and figure out a way to disseminate it around the globe before this whole mess gets worse."

"Worse?" Logan shifted forward in his seat. "How can things get worse? We stopped the Noah Objective."

"Davies isn't a man who gives up easily," Jamie turned back around and braced an arm against the door as Mitch took a turn a little too fast. "He might not have a way to repopulate the earth with clean animals, but that doesn't mean we're out of the woods yet."

"You don't think he'll launch the gas anyway?"

"No," Mitch shook his head. "He's a lunatic, but he's a scientific lunatic. He knows that eradicating animals off the planet with no way to replace them would kill us all. I mean, I think he knows it."

"But he's not the one who makes the final call," Jamie finished his thought. "Whoever's in charge? The governments of the world? They're getting desperate and angry, and that makes people make rash decisions."

It was as much of an apology as Logan was likely to get for being shoved out of a plane. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him nod once. Message received.

Mansdale met them ten minutes later in a less descript vehicle. Jamie climbed into the back with Mitch, leaving the front for Logan. She felt a bone-deep exhaustion creeping over her as she sagged into the plush seats of the sedan. The adrenaline was finally wearing off, leaving her muscles aching and her mind a jumble of thoughts. She reached for Mitch's hand as they turned on Lincoln and sped away from the city. He was warm beneath her palm, and with just a little adjustment she was close enough to lay her head on his shoulder. She felt him squeeze her hand gently as her eyes slipped closed, the quiet conversation of Mansdale and Logan in the front seat lulling her to sleep.

"We're here." Mitch's quiet voice woke her, and she blinked blearily as she raised her head. They were parked on a private runway in front of a small jet plane. It was by no means the deluxe airliner she'd called home the last few weeks, and as they walked across the tarmac Jamie felt a flutter of nervousness in her stomach.

"Who's the pilot?" Logan asked as Mansdale yanked the door open and dropped the small staircase.

"I am," he said simply. "Come on."

They were airborne in a matter of minutes. Logan had offered to co-pilot, leaving Jamie and Mitch sitting in the small passenger compartment alone. The seats were nice, a soft leather that was worn around the edges, and there were small television screens at the front and rear of the cabin.

"There are drinks and snacks in the mini-fridge in the back," Mansdale's voice came over the intercom. "Help yourself."

Mitch was on his feet at the word "mini-fridge," and Jamie just nodded when he offered to grab something for her. He returned with a soda, a bottle of water, two bags of chips and a frown.

"I was hoping for something a little stronger," he told her as he held out the soda and the water for her to choose.

She took the water, unscrewed the cap and down half the contents. "We'll celebrate properly when this is all over."

"Last leg of the journey," he reminded her. "You still have your phone on you? We should probably call Jackson and the others and let them know we're on our way."

"Good idea."

She tried a few times but couldn't get through. A quick trip to the cockpit told her why.

"I have a cell phone jammer active," Mansdale indicated a small red light near the bottom of the console. "We don't want anyone following us. I've already contacted the island. They know we're coming."

"How long until we get to Pangaea?"

"Less than five hours. You and Doctor Morgan should grab a nap. I imagine there will be a lot of work to do when we arrive."

They took his advice to heart, only waking when the plane shuddered violently on their descent. At the unexpected turbulence, Mitch jerked awake and gripped her hand so hard she grimaced and tried to pull away. He wasn't quite awake - his eyes were wild and unfocused - and he tugged her toward him almost instinctively. One blink, then two, and the fog lifted. He looked around as if expecting something wholly different, and it was a few more seconds before he relaxed enough to let her go.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," he ran his fingers through his hair absently. "Fine."

Jamie recognized the after effects of a nightmare and realized what had probably happened. The tremors had been too close to those that had preceded the plane crash last year, and she knew from reading Chloe's letters that Mitch had harbored a lot of guilt over Jamie's supposed death. Hoping to reassure him, she slipped her hand back into his and let it steady him as they landed on the small airstrip amid the vast green of the forest island.

Their larger plane was sitting in the middle of the tarmac with the vehicle bay doors lowered and open. Jamie felt a sense of homecoming as they stepped through the door, and she could see the same relieved contentment settle over Mitch as they entered the lab. They heard a voice that had to be Robert Oz speaking from somewhere near the back.

"Why Doctor Morgan made the protocol so complicated is beyond me. I know a simpler way to prep the DNA from the saber-tooth."

"Please don't do that," Mitch stepped around the shelves first, followed by Jamie. "It took me hours of trial and error to get that protocol right."

Jackson was standing just behind his father near the wall, but at their arrival he smiled and crossed over to them.

"About time you guys got here," he greeted. "Come here." He reached for Jamie first, and she threw her arms around him easily. He looked good, not crazy, and for a moment Jamie wondered if they'd already administered the cure. Then she remembered his father's words and guessed they were still a few hours away.

Jackson pulled away from her and moved to Mitch, slapping the other man on the back in a brotherly gesture. Footsteps behind them announced Mansdale's arrival, along with their unexpected passenger.

"Logan." Jackson sounded wary, and Jamie didn't blame him. She hadn't wanted to bring him either, but getting rid of him now would be harder than it had been the first time.

"You brought one of Davies' men here?" Robert Oz seemed to be addressing Mansdale and Jamie wondered how long they'd known each other. Had Robert Oz been with the Shepherds this whole time? Had he been planted in Davies' circle to keep an eye on him, or to sabotage him? The possibilities made her head spin, and she chose to push all of those thoughts out as Logan tried to diffuse the tension with a joke.

"Considering we just destroyed the Noah Objective's supply of clean DNA, I'm pretty sure I'm off Davies' Christmas card list."

Jackson looked at his friends in alarm. "You did what?"

"It's gone," Jamie confirmed. "We blew it up. No clean DNA, no Noah Objective."

"That's unbelievable."

Mitch scoffed and crossed his arms. "Well, what's unbelievable is we intercepted him trying to steal it," he said.

Logan just shrugged. "Nobody's perfect."

But Robert Oz wasn't impressed. "He's a liability."

Logan suddenly realized what he was implying and he looked at Jamie imploringly. "Oh, don't look at me," she said sharply. "I don't even know your real name. Frankly, I don't care." She tossed her hands up, abandoning him to his fate with the simple gesture as she walked away. "Do what you want with him."

"Jamie!"

She ignored his pleas and made her way toward the work table as Robert Oz ordered Mansdale to keep Logan away from the compound. She wondered again what kind of pull the older man had when the soldier responded with a sharp affirmation and escorted Logan off the plane.

"Doctor Morgan," Robert Oz approached them with an outstretched hand. "It's an honor. The work you've done here is exemplary."

"Thanks," he shook Oz's hand quickly. "Looks like you've been busy."

"Yes, but now the real work can begin."

Jamie had a sense things were about to go way beyond her rudimentary understanding of their work and the cure, so she quietly excused herself with a promise to return with food for all of them. It took her almost fifteen minutes to make the sandwiches, hunt down the chips she and Mitch had purchased (was that only a few days ago?) and balance it all steadily enough to make her way back to the lab.

She heard Mitch before she even made the lab proper, his voice tight with barely restrained frustration. "No more medication until we figure this out."

Robert's voice was too quiet for Jamie to make out his words, but Jackson's answer to them was clear. "I can handle it."

"But can we handle you?"

Jamie set the food on a table near the stairs, far from any of the chemicals and compounds they were working with. Robert muttered something else and stalked away. Jackson followed him shortly after.

"Well, who's gonna eat all this now?" Jamie announced.

Mitch turned at her voice and she smiled as his dark mood lifted a bit. "Me," he said brightly.

"By yourself?"

"Of course not. You're going to help." He grabbed a sandwich and took a large bite, swallowed it almost too fast, then took another. "These are good."

"I'll pass your compliments to the chef." Jamie tucked into her own sandwich thoughtfully before gesturing vaguely to where Robert and Jackson had just disappeared. "What was all that about?"

"Jackson's father - in his infinite wisdom - had been dosing his son with medication to stave off the worst effects of the mutation. It interfered with the serum, so we have to wait for it to clear his system before we try again."

"How long will that take?"

"About thirty-six hours, he guesses, but I think Jackson's system is going to burn through it faster than that."

It turned out to be a lot faster. Jackson was pacing the upper level of the lab and muttering to himself when Jamie found him an hour later. She handed him the only sandwich she'd managed to save from Mitch's hunger and he accepted it gratefully.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like my skin is crawling," he said. "It's gonna get a lot worse before this is all over."

"Your dad and Mitch are going to figure this out," she rubbed his arm comfortingly, frowning at the heat pouring off of him even through his thin cotton shirt. "You're burning up."

"It's the mutation," he nodded his head in a single, decisive jerk. "I can feel it creeping over me like a vine, threatening to strangle me."

"Morbid, but nice imagery."

"Thought you might appreciate that." He finished the sandwich and wiped his hands on his jeans. "We're almost done."

"Yeah," Jamie tucked her hands into her pockets. "We are. Have you given any thought to what you want to do after?"

"You mean if I'm not dead?" Jackson laughed humorlessly. "I have no idea. You?"

"I'm going back to Louisiana for a while. After that? I don't know either. The world...it isn't what it used to be."

"No," he agreed. "But maybe we can help make it better."

It sounded wonderfully idealistic, and Jamie smiled at the small reminder of the eager, vibrant young man she'd met in a board room early last summer. "Well, whatever happens in the next few days, I'm glad the universe threw us all together. You're good people, Jackson Oz."

She pulled her hands from her pockets and slipped them around his slender frame. He hugged her a little more tightly than before, and she felt the tension in his shoulders as she rubbed his back.

"Let me know if you need anything," she stepped back and squeezed his arm once before letting it fall away.

"I will," he promised. Just as she reached the threshold of the corridor he called her name and she turned. "You're good people, too, Jamie. I'm glad you and Mitch found each other."

Jamie had nothing to say in answer that wouldn't cause her, him, or both of them to break down in tears. She wished more than ever that Chloe could have been here, and she could see in Jackson's fevered gaze that he was thinking the same thing. Jamie offered him one more reassuring smile before slipping down the hall to find something to occupy her time until the cure was ready.

That something turned out to be a journal entry. She hadn't written much since the letter she'd given Mitch, and a lot had happened since then. It took her almost an hour to get it all out, even with her faster-than-average typing speed.

"Anyone home?" Dariela's voice preceded her knock by a second, and Jamie saved her document as she called the for other woman to enter. "Whatcha working on?"

"Oh, just...collecting my thoughts," Jamie said. "What's up?"

"Just thought you should know Mitch is hooking up Jackson and his dad to some sort of machine. I think they're going to start making the cure."

"His dad?" Jamie stood up and stretched a little. "Why is Jackson's dad getting hooked up."

"Dunno," Dariela shrugged. "Science isn't my thing."

Jamie pushed past the shorter woman and toward the lab. They both stopped at the bottom of the central staircase where Mitch was messing with one of the monitors. Abe was bustling about behind them, obviously trying to help Mitch with whatever he needed.

"How you feeling?" Mitch glanced at Jackson.

"Peachy."

Abe came up on his other side and double checked the velcro straps holding him to the chair. "Make sure the straps are tight."

"I've seen a lot of improvised field medicine," Dariela said finally, "but this is something else."

"You know it's crazy enough it just might work," Robert glanced up at Mitch with a wry smile. "Wish I'd thought of it."

Mitch just double checked the screen behind his head that showed some sort of bar graph that Jamie couldn't make out. "We don't have to completely eliminate the badger acid from Jackson's system, just reduce it. If we can increase his blood volume with some genetically analogous whole blood cells…"

Jamie was pretty sure she caught most of that. "So Robert's providing a kind of genetic transfusion."

"Yeah, and we're only gonna get one shot at this," Mitch turned around expectantly. "So...everybody ready?"

Both Oz men nodded certainly, and Mitch only waited another moment more before pressing a button. The machine between them began humming and Jamie watched in fascination as the tube hanging between the men filled with a dark red liquid.

"How long will it take?" she asked.

"Thirty minutes should be long enough for Jackson's blood to be diluted enough to accept the serum."

So they waited. Jamie glanced at her watch compulsively, and as they entered the twenty-third minute the monitor began beeping ominously.

"What is that?"

"His blood pressure's rising," Mitch didn't glance up from the screen. "He's still within normal ranges." Another few moments passed, and Jackson tensed in his restraints as the beeping continued.

Robert glanced over his shoulder at Mitch. "What's happening?"

"He's hypertensive."

"Is his blood pressure still within range?"

"Barely. 190 over 130."

"I'm fine," Jackson hissed. "Keep going."

He didn't look fine. Sweat poured off of him, and his hands were clenched in fists beneath the wrist straps. Jamie shuffled closer instinctively as Abe offered words of support, but he didn't seem to hear them.

Something beeped, and the red indicator on the screen turned green. "Okay," Mitch sounded relieved. "Transfusion worked. The acid shouldn't interfere with the serum."

Jackson gave a cry, but it wasn't relief. It sounded pained, and Jamie gasped his name as his pupils dilated. A sickly black substance spidered through his veins and this time Jamie shuffled back.

"With the acid diluted, there's nothing holding the mutation back," Mitch had moved to the side table to grab his gloves. He caught Jamie's eye and nodded his head toward his workstation. "I need that serum."

She moved quickly to help him, drawing the thick substance into the syringe as Mitch urged her to hurry. When she handed it off he moved behind Jackson.

"I'm not gonna lie, buddy. This is gonna hurt."

"Just do it!" Jackson roared.

Mitch tilted his head forward with one hand and carefully inserted the needle into the base of Jackson's neck. Jackson jerked once, then twice, before relaxing bonelessly into his chair.

"Jackson?" Robert called.

"Hey," Mitch tapped Jackson's face lightly. "You still with us?"

His answer was sluggish. "That wasn't so bad."

"What is that?" Dariela was looking at the bag hanging empty on Jackson's right side - only now it wasn't so empty. A black, viscous fluid was dripping into the bag slowly, pulsing in time with Jackson's heartbeat.

Mitch snapped off his gloves with an air of resolution. "That...is our cure."

They'd done it. Jamie shared a smile with the others, but as Mitch stepped around her she reached out and laid a hand on his arm. He'd accomplished the impossible - saving the animals and the entire human race right along with them. She was proud of him and she tried to let him see it in her gaze. He returned her smile with a small one of his own, but there was something lurking beneath the triumph in his eyes that worried her. Whatever it was, it was clear he didn't want to talk about it right now.

"I would like a drink," he announced.

"I can stay and watch Jackson," Robert offered, unplugging his IV line. Jamie noticed he didn't remove the needle from his hand, probably in case Jackson needed another transfusion. She wasn't sure how much he could give before it became dangerous, but Mitch didn't seem too concerned so she guessed he was still okay.

"Great." Mitch was halfway up the stairs before the others caught up to him, and Jamie tucked her arm through his in a sideways hug.

"You did it, Professor."

"We did it," he amended. "I'll make sure to thank all of you in the paper I'm going to write on all of this."

Abe laughed loudly. "Given the things we've encountered the past fifteen months, it might read more like a science fiction novel than a scientific paper."

"You're right," Mitch frowned, then looked at Jamie. "Maybe you should write it."

Jamie laughed with the others but didn't dismiss the idea outright. She'd never really entertained the thought of writing a book before; her focus had always been investigative journalism. But they'd been through so much, and the world deserved to know the truth of what had happened.

"Maybe I will," she agreed as they entered the bar. Mitch poured drinks for him, Jamie and Abe as Dariela grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge. Once everyone had a drink, Mitch held his glass up expectantly.

"What should we toast to?"

Abe was ready. "You."

"Me?"

"None of this would have been possible without you, Mitch. This victory is yours."

"To Mitch," Jamie declared before he could hedge his way out of the spotlight.

The others echoed her words and they all took a long drink. Jamie was glad to see Mitch had as well, though she could see the blush creeping up his neck. For a guy who was unashamed to proclaim his own intelligence, his embarrassment at receiving well-deserved recognition was an adorable contradiction.

"We still need a way to distribute the damn thing," Mitch grumbled.

"Oh, we've got one," Dariela smiled knowingly. "Jackson's dad showed us their aviary. They've got 40,000 birds ready to spread a very specialized strain of the avian flu around the world."

"That's…" Mitch trailed off thoughtfully, "...genius, actually. Kinda mad I didn't think of it."

Jamie wondered if he realized how similar his words were to Robert Oz's, then decided not to mention it. He'd had to work with the man to finish the cure, but he'd always made it quite clear just what he thought of the elder Oz.

"Right," she upended the rest of her drink, then set the empty glass on the bar. "I'm gonna grab a shower and a fresh change of clothes. How long will it take for Jackson to make the cure?"

"Not sure," Mitch shrugged. "Couple hours?"

"It will take some time to get the birds ready," Abe pointed out. "We're likely looking at a morning launch."

"Wonderful." Jamie pushed away from the countertop and left them to finish their drinks. "Call me when it's ready."

Between the time change and her nap on the flight down, she was wired. Mitch's off-hand comment about writing a book about their exploits had crept into her head and stuck, and she wanted to get some ideas down before she forgot them.

A little over two hours later she had the roughest outline she'd ever cobbled together in her life. It was a start, though, and she felt a small sense of accomplishment as she reviewed her work. Now she really needed that shower. She indulged a little longer than she normally did, letting the warm water sluice over her as the tension and panic of the last twenty four hours slid away. It was finally over.

It was a weird feeling, to be done. All her life she'd been fighting, scraping, searching for something to finally put to rest the ghost that chased her in her dreams. It wasn't the justice she'd pictured for her mother, but she liked to think Nancy Armstrong would be proud of the work they'd done.

When she stepped out of her bathroom, Mitch was sitting on her bed in new clothes. His hair was damp from his own shower, and he had made a quick attempt to shave if the small piece of toilet paper stuck to his chin was any indication.

"You ready to save the world?" she asked him lightly, feeling anything but light as she sank onto the mattress next to him. He was unnaturally quiet, and she turned toward him just enough to brush his hair away from his face. It was getting longer, and he'd need a trim soon. "You okay?"

When he finally looked up she felt her body recoil at the anguish in his eyes. "He's dead."

Jamie's heart stopped. "Jackson? Jackson's dead? What happened? How…?"

Mitch shook his head mutely, then swallowed. When he spoke, it was in stuttering, nonsensical half-sentences. "Not Jackson. Robert. I...there wasn't...I had to -"

"Mitch, you're scaring me."

The pain his eyes solidified into something darker and he stood. "I have to go."

"No." She grabbed his hand in a vice-like grip and held on, pulling herself up to stand beside him and keep him anchored. "Talk to me."

He clenched his jaw so tightly that Jamie thought he might break a molar. His eyes were planted firmly on the door, and Jamie was sure the only thing keeping him from running was her firm hold on his hand. Suddenly he deflated, his entire body sagging like a puppet whose strings had been cut. She pushed him back to sit on the bed, bending her leg to tuck her shin along his thigh as he leaned forward, burying his head in his hands.

"Please talk to me," she whispered. She wasn't sure if the hand rubbing circles on his back was helping, but she needed some sort of physical connection to him right now, with his mind a million miles away.

He took a shuddering breath and she realized he was crying. Losing Robert Oz was a surprise, and Jamie certainly felt a pang of sympathy for Jackson. He'd just gotten his father back. But Mitch had been far from the man's biggest fan; if pressed, Jamie would describe his attitude as grudging tolerance. Mitch wouldn't cry for the man, wouldn't cry for much of anything.

"It was his fault."

Mitch's voice was gravelly, and so quiet that if Jamie hadn't been nearly pressed against him she might not have heard it at all. She had a million questions, but she forced them silent in her mind and let Mitch gather his thoughts as he searched for the right words.

"Clem's disease," he explained as he sat up straighter. His cheeks were wet but his eyes dry, and the storm that Jamie had seen in them moments ago had been pushed back behind the sorrow he was now fighting. "Reiden, Robert Oz, the Shepherds - they manufactured Glazier's Disease in their quest to stop the spread of the mutation. They -" his throat closed over his words and he looked away from her, obviously embarrassed by his emotional display.

But Jamie was no stranger to breakdowns and she was determined to give Mitch the steadfast, unconditional support he'd provided her in those precarious weeks after Canada. She reached up and slipped his glasses from his face, directing him to stretch out on her bed as she laid down next to him. She draped herself around him, tucking his head under her chin as his arms snaked around her desperately.

Jamie hated this. He was in pain, a father's pain, and she could do nothing but hold him as he worked through it. He didn't cry again, but she could feel his labored breathing beneath her hands as she stroked his back. When his hold loosened slightly, she pulled back and adjusted them so they were nose to nose on her pillow. He finally met her eyes, and Jamie marveled at the myriad of emotions she saw in his. In a brief moment of levity, she closed the remaining inch between them and kissed his nose softly. He wrinkled it and she smiled.

He did, too, for a moment. Then it faded. "Jackson wasn't producing enough of the cure. His body was still fighting the acid. Robert offered to pre-stage it, to take the strain off of Jackson's system so he could produce enough of the cure before he ran out of blood. But in order for him to do that, he had to have the genomic fossil serum."

"And since he doesn't have the ghost gene," Jamie prompted.

"Yeah." Mitch dropped her gaze ashamedly. "It was the only way, but -"

"But a small part of you felt justified, because of his role in Clem's illness - in the deaths of all the children who had the disease." His eyes snapped back up to hers and this time her smile was sad. "I pushed Logan out of the plane, after Davies and his men attacked. He was going to jump, going to get away after he lied to me, betrayed my trust and almost destroyed everything we'd worked for. I was angry and hurt, so I shot him with a tranq dart and shoved him out the door. The only reason he's not dead is the fail-safe measure on his chute that deployed it automatically."

He didn't say anything for a moment, but she could see no judgment in his gaze. It was the deepest secret she still had and, if she was being honest, the biggest reason for keeping it had been her own fear - fear of his reaction, of seeing his disgust or revulsion at her actions. She knew now he'd harbored the same fear. She remembered her earlier words - you're scaring me - and berated herself for the slip.

"Mitch, look at me. Please," she added to take the edge off of the command. He did. "You are the bravest, strongest, most compassionate man I have ever met." He flinched and tried to pull away, but she kept him anchored to the bed. "No, listen to me. I know you - all of you - and I love you. I love that you can make me laugh even when I'm sad. I love that you tackle any problem with everything you have, even stupid ones like missing cats in Brentwood." That pulled a smile from him, albeit a small one. She'd take it. "But what I love most is that you don't give up. You did everything you could after Clem got sick. Your career, your reputation...none of it mattered to you in the face of your daughter's life.

"You didn't give up on me, either. Not when I thought I'd failed. Not when I was lost in New Brunswick. Not when I thought everything I had done had changed me forever. You pushed and searched and fought and remained unwaveringly patient. You didn't shy away from the darkness in me, and I'm not running from yours. It's a part of us, brought out in horrific circumstances but there nonetheless. I don't want you to ever feel like you have to hide that part of you away from me, okay? Because I understand. I know what it feels like, and I want you to be able to talk to me about it. You've always been there for me, always believed in me. I'm not sure if I ever told you, but your belief in me is single-handedly the greatest thing anyone's ever given me. And I'm pretty sure I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of the gift."

She hadn't meant to make a speech, hadn't meant to ramble on for as long as she had, but apparently she'd needed to say it and he needed to hear it. His hand lifted from where it was resting on her hip, and she closed her eyes as his fingers brushed across her temple. His fingers were replaced with his lips, and she hummed in contentment.

"Yes."

Her eyes popped open as her nose scrunched in confusion. "Huh?"

His brown eyes were warm as he smiled at her, all traces of his earlier distress gone. "I believe, Miss Campbell, that you just proposed to me. I accept."

Jamie faltered for a moment, her bewildered protest stuttering from her mouth in fits and spurts. He shut her up with a kiss, searing and fierce and full of promise. When it was over she held him close, letting her chest expand and fall with his as they breathed in the silence. There was still work to be done; the cure needed to be sent to the Shepherds so they could prep the birds, and someone would need to monitor the cure's progress across the globe over the next few weeks. There would be talks and meetings and interviews, there would be papers to write and forms to sign.

But right now, in this moment, Jamie let all of their worries and troubles fall away as visions of her future with Mitch danced through her mind.