Chapter 3

Rorke paced around with his arms across his chest. The hole in his chest ached like a bitch and his back wasn't fairing so well either. That little shit of a Walker had good aim even when he was fucked up and he had given him enough to take him down. He thought the younger one had life. It seemed that he was wrong about both of them. It couldn't be that they were Elias' sons. No fucking way.

He looked down through the grating and saw nothing and frowned. What the fuck? He got down on his hands and knees and peered through. "What the fuck are you doing down there Little Charlie?"

He moved around until he finally spotted what he was looking for. The little pain in the ass was sitting where she had taken up residence a little over two weeks ago since she had woken up. The reason Rorke hadn't been able to see her was because the uniform she had worn so proudly was now covered in dirt from the mud the ground produced. It provided the means of blending in and the fact that she was so still…

Rorke groused and shouted, "What are ya staring at? Trying to find your way to freedom?

She didn't move or even acknowledge what Rorke was saying. It only served to make him angrier. He growled as he paced. Finally he motioned for one of the guards to open the grate. He jumped into the pit and strolled like it was a day in the park. He looked at the seated figure and took a good look at her.

She was sitting cross legged and her hands were resting on her knees. Her dark hair was in a messy braid that dangled down the length of her back just below her shoulder blades. Her skin was covered with dirt and she had a slight abrasion on her right brow but it was healing pretty well. Her olive toned skin seemed to glow even in her dirty state. She was looking forward but she was not seeing what was in front of her. Her eyes were closed.

Rorke started pacing in front of her trying to figure out what to do. He sudden jumped forward and landed in front of her trying to make a lot of noise. It didn't do his injuries any wonders but he aimed to get her to at least look at him. Ever since he threw her down there, she didn't acknowledge his presence of those of the guards. The food that had been prepared had been eaten but she was not reacting like she should. It had him frustrated. He crouched in front of her and peered at her. "You know your manners are not the best Little Charlie. You have any idea what I do to people who don't show good manners?"

No movement was made from his prisoner. Not a muscle twitched. The only sounds were the guards whispering in Spanish that the boss had picked a crazy one. Others were saying that she was crazy and foolish. Rorke glanced up at them and then at his prisoner and said, "Come on now Little Charlie. I know and you know that you have manners to speak of. Listen to them. They don't think that you're a Ghost. That you're insane."

Rorke stood up to pace again in front of her. He couldn't understand why she wasn't moving. The first night she had walked around the perimeter of the pit. She looked around and up out at the sky. She tapped her fingers on her hand as she looked up like she was trying to figure out the way to escape. As far as he knew there was no escaping the pit unless he said to let her out. He knew because he watched her.

Rorke had never seen anyone move that gracefully. Even the few women he had over the last decade didn't compare to the woman that just seemed to float on air. There was something about her that he couldn't put his finger on. It was intoxicating.

The first time he saw her was in Caracas. He didn't get a good look at first but when he saw her… She was standing there so defiant and the way she talked to the junior belonging to Elias… She looked like a Ghost.

Later when they met face to face and stood next to the younger one… He knew the younger son of Elias had that bit of fire he liked to see. He also saw that he was the kind of brat to do anything to please Daddy. Rorke had seen it all before. Junior was probably the favored one. He was older and probably considered perfect. The kid… always in the shadow. He would be easy to turn and he would have succeeded but then she came.

There was no mistaken she had trained under old man Charlie. That man knew how to fight and the way he handled himself with that tomahawk… It was like seeing his old friend again with Little Charlie. Rorke actually felt a little jealous that Charlie taught her when he was the one that asked him all the questions about what he knew. He should have seen it then that Charlie was only being polite and giving him attention like one gives a puppy that comes up to you.

He looked at her. She was still sitting there. She was well composed. Even when the kid and Merrick had been punching him, she just stared impassively… at least until he mentioned good old Charlie. Maybe that was the way to reach her. She did turn away and talked to Junior and he wondered what the hell they were talking about since she seemed ready to hit the little bastard. She didn't and then stuck her beautiful face into his and dared to call him weak.

She had said the same thing in Vegas and looked up at him with such defiance. She showed contempt for him and his men and boy when she made his man think twice… He had been honest; he liked what she did. The truth was, he had never lied to her. He had a thought and he looked at her as he kneeled across from her. "You know Little Charlie, I would rather not do this. I would rather you come to me voluntarily." He reached out and stroked her right cheek with the back of his right forefinger.

For the first time since he had jumped in, she opened her eyes. They were a snappy brown but there was a hint of red in the color. Actually there was more red in the brown to the point that they didn't quite look like normal eye color; they mesmerized him. He grinned that she opened her eyes finally and watched as her eyes latched onto him. He continued to stroke her cheek and said, "I need you Little Charlie. You have something that will make things different."

Her face was stern and impassive as she looked at him. Her eyes studied him and Rorke thought that she was trying to look into his soul. He had been caught the first time and it became his obsession to take her. He knew she was a fighter. Her stance, her walk… it all spoke of someone who knew what it truly meant to be a Ghost. Old man Charlie was the same way and that man would have been a hell of a Ghost but the bastard preferred his station.

Now Rorke had his protégé and she was definitely one. She did things like Charlie and yet some things were different. Oh he had been pleased when she attacked him in Vegas. He had been waiting for it when he spoke to her privately. He had to hand it to her that she was smart in terms of looking for the advantage. He did find it disappointing that she spit in his face; that was more like Junior or the kid. SO he did have to discipline her.

He continued to stroke her cheek and all she did was stare at him. It was starting to annoy him and he got the distinct feeling that she knew that and was going to do it no matter what. It was better to nip this in the bud. He said in a patronizing tone, "Now Little Charlie, you know acting this way isn't going to help you."

"Neither will complying with you," she finally said as she looked at him.

Rorke traced his fingers down her face to grip her chin between his thumb and forefinger. He replied, "Better you to surrender than go through all this. Why make it hard on yourself?"

"If you have to ask that question then you truly know nothing," she replied calmly. "Ignorance is a folly."

"Or it can be bliss as the fucking saying goes." Rorke peered into her face as his thumb released her chin but his finger was still underneath. He used it to move her head ever so slightly and examine her features. "What do you hold in ignorance?"

"And odd question. Most you have asked me are from a brash brigand," she replied as she allowed him to move her face.

Rorke looked sharply into her eyes. There was no emotion in them but there was life. It frustrated him. He growled, "Why don't you do what is asked?"

"Why would I do anything you ask? You are the one that captured me. Did you expect this to be easy?"

Rorke took in a breath and looked to the side. His finger was still under her chin. He looked at her, the snap of her eyes drew him in. He leaned forward until they were not too far apart. He couldn't help but run the back of his finger under her chin and down the front of her throat. He took his time making it seductive.

He was surprised by the sudden pain in his wrist. He had forgotten Junior popped the vein in it. He looked down to find her hand applying pressure. It was starting to hurt like a mother fucker. He looked up and saw that she staring at him with that impassive face. He growled, "Don't be going there Little Charlie. You may not like what you find."

"And I say the same to you Otaktay. Some things you will find are not tolerated and the consequences will be severe."

"Is that a threat?" Rorke deliberately kept his finger on her throat and put a little bit of pressure. It irked him that she wasn't even reacting to the pressure. Then again he liked the fact that she had a high threshold. He applied a little pressure.

He didn't expect her to retaliate with increased pressure on his wrist. He also felt pressure on his chest where the bullet hole was and it was excruciating. He was aware that his face was quivering from the sting and pain. He looked at her and her gaze had not wavered. She was looking at him and in a position so that their eyes locked. He applied a little more pressure on the hollow of her throat and he felt the muscles quiver underneath his finger and he felt a perverse pleasure that he caused it but the lack of respond was making him increasingly frustrated. "Fucking stop it Charlie," he growled.

She didn't stop. She held on as long as he did. Finally growing frustrated, he lashed out quickly and removed his finger and grabbed her by the shirt front to bring her close. He pulled her from her seated position and into his face. He glared at her impassive look, relieved that she was no longer holding his wrist or pressing on his chest wound, and said, "Fucking little shit. Just give in."

"And be weak like you? I have more respect for myself," she replied.

Rorke slammed her into him and gave her a good shake before throwing her. He watched as she landed on the ground with a dull thud. He stood up and walked over towards her. His breaths were coming out in heaves. He couldn't control it as he shifted on his feet.

"Are you going to kick me? Kick the beast when it's down?" She looked up at him with a blank look as she lifted her head at him.

Rorke looked at her sprawled on the ground. Her limbs were sinewy and perfectly toned. Even though she was wearing her uniform, he could see that perfect body moving under the fabric. Every muscle was tensed to spring if her were to try something. He was certain of that. She would risk it all… God dammit! What was it about her?

In the meantime she had slowly got up but she wasn't sitting. She looked up at him and said, "That look would make it easier to pity you. If it were to be given."

That had Rorke get in her face and he pounced to land in front of her. He groused, "I don't need your pity. In fact it is you who will need mercy if you continued to be the stubborn little shit you are."

"I don't give myself willingly."

"Everyone breaks Little Charlie." Rorke stood up and walked over to where he was going to leave. He was let out but before he was out, he paused and looked down at her and added, "You will be mine one way or the other. You will help me hunt the Ghosts." He was up and out before another word could be uttered.

He issued orders to bring the next meal with the special mixture sauce in Spanish, unaware that his prisoner could hear every damn word. He also didn't know that she had sat up completely with a smile that could be considered dangerous. She turned her fingers to reveal something that she had taken off him. He never noticed her hand reaching in for it. He was good in not taking in the obvious like a gun but this was different. She glanced upwards as she heard the sounds of Spanish being spoken before scooting to where there was a blind spot in the camera and gently brushed away the leaves that covered the ground. She grinned as she revealed her treasure trove.

There was only one way to play this and that was to play along and buy time. This was a hunt yes. It was a hunt that would not result in the death of Ghosts. It was a hunt of a hunter versus a predator. Who would win? It was just beginning…

The sea looked peaceful; you would never think that there was a war going on. The only sign of that was that the ship was a carrier. That really didn't detract Hesh's attention as he leaned against the railing and looked out at the waves as he heard them crash against the hull of the ship. He grinned when he felt her purposely bump his arm and he couldn't help but tease her, "Thought you preferred the sub."

"I hate fucking subs."

Hesh chuckled at that. He knew all too well she had hated it and she didn't say a word about her discomfort. She was ready to suffer than appear as a wimp. He glanced at her and her profile. Her skin seemed to glow in the afternoon sun as she looked forward. The loose tendrils of her dark hair blew back with the wind and her eyes just absorbed the images she was seeing. He murmured, "They're not too bad… when you have the right company."

She looked at him and her gaze softened. It was tempting to reach out and touch her but not in the open. What the hell. Hesh reached out slowly and caressed her check before leaning in. She kissed him first and he returned it, deepening it. When he pulled back and ran his fingers through her hair they were in his room. He looked at her, her eyes were soft and flickering with life. "Hawk," he breathed.

"Thečhíȟila Shappa," she said as she caressed his cheek before kissing it and then moved to his lips.

He was surprised that he managed to say it, "Thečhíȟila Hawk." He made a humming sound into the nape of her neck as she wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands sought her hips. He breathed in her scent and said, "I'll keep you safe."

A searing and burning pain entered through him as a loud bang resounded. Hesh staggered and pressed a hand to his abdomen. It came away red and he ended up falling to his knees. When he looked up she had a bloom of red on her chest. She was on her hands and knees and heaving now. He gasped, "Hawk."

"She's mine Junior," that irritating Southern drawl entered.

Hesh gasped as he looked at Rorke and glared. He got a backhand across the face and ended on his back. Rorke put a boot on his injury and pressed hard as he reached and grabbed the back of her vest. Hesh grunted as he felt like he was being crushed. Rorke seemed like a giant from where he was laying.

"She's mine and there's nothing you can do about it."

Hesh grunted as Rorke added pressure before releasing him and then started walking away dragging her. She tried to get free but she couldn't. She looked at him and he saw it. There was accusation in her eyes. They simply said, "You promised to keep me safe and you didn't. You failed."

Hesh struggled to get up. He fell and reached forward and tried to follow. He couldn't though. For every step he took it was like Rorke took three or four. The distance was becoming too great. Hesh reached out and called out, "Sequoia!"

Hesh lurched forward and it felt like he was falling into a black hole. He landed on his stomach and the pain was sharp and crippling. He looked up to see her nothing more than a speck away. He reached out as if that would help

You promised me. You promised I would be safe…

We're gonna destroy the souls of the Ghosts…

Hawk!

HAWK!

Hesh's eyes shot open and looked around. The dull throb was from his ribs and abdomen and it was caused by his flailing limbs. He hissed at the sting on his hand and abruptly pulled it up. He saw a thin trail of blood coming from where his IV was inserted. That was the source of the stinging and only served to remind him that he was stuck here and he knew if he pulled it out again Carol wasn't going to be so nice about it.

The pain was welcome. Any pain was really. It was less than what he deserved for everything that had happened. Hesh welcomed more of it as he sat up a little more quickly than he should have and slung his legs out of bed. He was still dressed in the uniform he wasn't sure how he managed to get on in his tired state the day before. He did know why as he took a moment to catch his breath before heading towards the bathroom.

He scowled when he realized that he needed to take the damn IV with him. It was the reason why he pulled it out the last time. It just got in his way and he didn't want it because Carol could inject whatever the hell she wanted into the line. He didn't want the meds because they made him dream. Still he was following Logan's lead on this one. He grumbled at the fact that Logan was right about this.

Gripping the pole and feeling put out and embarrassed he ambled towards the bathroom. He needed to wash away the evidence on his hand. Then again she was bound to notice. He groused, feeling very angry, hurt and he wanted to cause himself more pain. What was it to him? She was gone and it was his fault. The very person that made him feel whole had been taken and he was powerless to go after her. He switched on the light and hung on the sink as he felt the ship list wherever the hell they were. And who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick the Ghosts on this bucket?

Hesh heaved trying to steady his breathing from the huffing and puffing from his anger and self-loathing. The past week he had been doing what he was supposed to do and then doing a little more. He wanted out and was frustrated that things were going so slow. He had been careful not to take it out on Logan. His brother was only looking out for him and Hesh knew that he was hurting about this whole thing too; she was his best friend… but she was his everything.

Looking up, Hesh took in his haggard appearance. The bruises and abrasions to his face were pretty much healed and compared to Logan… well they were a tie. He was fortunate probably not to have a broken nose though he would take one. What was one more injury to his body? He shook his head slightly at the stubble as well as the growth of his hair. He had always done the close crew cut per regulation. Now it had started to grow. It was still short but now bristly.

Slowly he turned on the water and started rubbing the blood away and scowled at the needle sticking out of his hand and then noticed the scar. It was the scar from the shattered glass when they were getting intel on the missile. Idly he rubbed his left thumb over it and he could almost feel her holding it and being a pain in the ass because he said it was nothing. His breath shuddered when he remembered her holding his hand and tracing the scar.

The little shit was right about scarring but I find it impressive.

She had been teasing him since he asked her about a strange looking scar on her right forearm. He hadn't noticed it until just before the last engagement. She said that it was talon marks and her animal totem got her. He remembered it annoyed him because she refused to be serious about it and cracked jokes until she admitted she had been careless with an actual hawk. It was then she teased him with his Sioux name she gave him.

You really are Shappa. I will have to teach Logan.

"No you don't," Hesh whispered as he ran a hand through his face. He winced when another spasm came. Those were a fucking bitch and interfered with his ability to eat solid foods even if they were soft. He didn't fucking care that Carol explained he had suffered major trauma to his stomach. It was one more simple thing that he couldn't do and it made him feel even more helpless.

He did what he always did and rode it out, pressing his right forearm against his abdomen. Something about the pressure helped a little. When it was finished, he glimpsed at the bandages wrapped around his abdomen and noticed the scars from Vegas and scowled at them like it would do anything for the way he was feeling.

He was tired, hurt and angry. The nightmare he just had was the same one he had before his 'irrational' decision to get out of bed and head down to the armory that was for the use of the team. Thanks to Logan's need to chatter, he was able to create a mental layout of the ship and made it down there. Maybe not as fast as he would have liked but he did make it down there and in turn exhausting him. The first time the nightmare happened was when he was completely exhausted and it didn't help that Carol gave him painkillers via the IV.

"Like fucking Lewis Carol," Hesh muttered as he turned to the task of using the cool water to counteract the heat his body was radiating. He looked again at his reflection.

The cool air hit the water still on his face and it felt like the kisses she gave him on his cheek. He thought about the time he treated an injury on her face. His nose touched her cheek and he felt its softness. What stayed though was the softness of her kiss on his cheek. The cool softness that was completely different from anything he had ever heard of Echo Three. She gave that to him and he completely screwed that up and what was it all for?

She'll forgive you bro.

I'm doing this for you because I love you.

Hesh stared at his face in the mirror hating every inch he was looking at. Maybe she might have forgiven him but… Everything he did was to protect her from Rorke. He had made a promise and it had gotten her captured. This was all on him. He was poison.

Looking at his hands, he found that he had been gripping the sink hard enough to make his knuckles red. He loosened them and looked back at the mirror. He stared long and hard, resisting the urge to punch in the glass. That would only send Carol over and probably delay her signing off on him training and he couldn't afford it. He needed to get her back and simply tell her that he wasn't good enough for her but she would have the choice. That was her right and he would take it because he had failed.

A/N: Looks like things are just getting started between Rorke and Hawk and Hesh is feeling miserable. Stay tuned for more of The Hunt...