Her breath drew in haggardly as the pressed her back against the corner of the doorframe to give herself a moment to prepare for another defensive. She didn't know how long, exactly, she'd been fighting for her daughter's life; but it felt like an eternity.

Her jaw quivered with indecision and exhaustion as she sized up another two green-dressed goons who held large guns and approached with a caution that gave her the time to attempt to ignore more of Anson's callous laughing.

"Cronus," she growled low, "where are you?"

She pressed her palms into the doorframe and used the leverage to push herself off and into a short twist to kick into the stomach of one attacker as she swiped her fist across the cheek of another.

Colonel Cronus and his men should have been here by now. He'd promised her there was a 24-hour surveillance on her apartment. There was no way that she should have been facing this alone.

Anson laughed at her breathed question. "Waiting for the cavalry, Princess?"

She thrust an elbow into another goon's gut and stumbled again into the doorframe. "Someone will come, Anson. I promise you."

He set his hands on his hips and laughed when he watched her slump and attempt to maintain a cool breath. "Oh no, Princess. There's been an emergency. All of Cronus' men have been dispatched practically on the other side of the country. You, my dear, are alone."

"What about G-Force?" she hissed as her breath heaved her shoulders up and down. "Have you forgotten about them?"

He could hear the doubt in her voice. G-Force wasn't coming. "God, I wish! Zoltar would be thrilled if I took out your beloved Commander and took his child all in one foul swoop."

Princess' look darkened – he'd called her bluff. "You won't take her. I won't let you."

"Ha," he laughed as he took a handful of steps toward her. "Because you'll die to prevent it?"

She snorted.

He stepped yet closer, backing her up against the door enough to make her raise her head to look down her nose at him. "You dying will only make it easier for me to take her." Her breath hitched as his hand lifted to her face to stroke the back of his hand down her cheek. "Ultimately she comes with me, Princess. You may as well just give in and let me take her."

"Never!" she snapped as she swatted his hand from her face. "Don't discount Mark coming in to protect us."

He ticked his tongue and tilted his head in mock sympathy. "Oh. How can I expect that when he doesn't know I'm here, you're here, or that his kid is – that he even has a child?"

She couldn't fight the sting of withheld tears. "He knows, Anson."

He smiled and leaned his mouth close to her ear, thrilled that she appeared as defeated as he thought she was. "I know he doesn't. I know you've hidden her from him." His voice was a loud whisper. "I know everything, Princess. Everything."

"Don't be so sure of that." Her voice was too shaky to be genuine. "You don't know anything."

He grinned and pressed both hands into the door under her arms. "Oh, but I do. I know things about you and Mark that not even you know."

She snorted hard enough for it to be wet, and inhaled quickly to save the need to wipe. "Don't be so sure of that."

"Hmm," he hummed as his nose rubbed against hers. "I know something you don't."

Her mouth opened to gulp in a breath of air. "Such as?"

"This whole mess with your beloved ex-commander …" He pulled his head back to glare triumphantly into her eyes. "Is just so brilliant it makes me hard to think about it."

She let her gaze wander from his to assess the conditions of the remaining goons standing behind them. She was stunned to find there were more entering the room behind Anson. "I'm glad you're excited by it."

The oozing sarcasm that dripped from her hit-swollen lips made him chuckle. "You know, Princess. He didn't actually sleep with her, you know that don't you?"

Her gaze immediately snapped back to Anson. Her eyes were flared wide. "What did you say?"

He pushed himself back off the door and took a couple of long steps away from her. "Oh come on, Princess. This is Mark we're talking about; the perpetual virgin." He smirked and turned his back to her. "Do you honestly believe he's capable of screwing around behind the back of the woman he loves?"

Her hands flew to her mouth as her head slowly shook from side to side in disbelief. "No…"

Anson turned only his head to look down his shoulder at her. "No indeed. He and Melissa may have spent the night together, but there was no sex. He turned her down flat."

"What…?"

"Oh yeah, baby," he smirked.

"Oh, God," she breathed. "All this?"

He laughed. "Yes, all this. Eighteen months of hard time not only for me, but also for the Eagle and Swan. G-Force in turmoil; A baby without a father; pain and suffering; tears and heartache; stuff only a Mills & Boon novel could create." He dramatically wiped at an imaginary tear and turned to look at her again. As his eyes swept across the room his breath caught. "Mark…"

Princess immediately flicked her head to take in what had obviously unnerved Anson. She couldn't even react when she saw the reason. All she could do was gasp and shakily hold on to the door handle to her child's bedroom.

It wasn't Mark just inside of the balcony door. It wasn't even the Eagle. What stood at the open door, with a lowered head and clenched fists was unrecognizable except for the red, white, and blue uniform of the G-Force Commander.

The creature inside the uniform slowly shifted his face to the side with a dangerous crack of the neck. His eyes, steeled and grey, maintained a hard glare on Anson, who for his part seemed pretty nonchalant. Mark's words, when they finally emerged from within, were calm, quiet, and full of warning.

"I think the lady wants you to leave."

Anson's brow flicked upward. If it weren't for the line of beaded sweat on his temple, one wouldn't have believed he felt in the slightest uneasy. "My understanding about the lady, Mark, is that she's the one who does the leaving."

Mark lowered his head and let out a single huff of a laugh as he took a single step toward Anson. "Do yourself a favour and walk away now." He raised his eyes, but not his head, to his prey.

"Not before I take what I came here for."

Mark took another two steps of advance and cast his eyes to Princess. His eyes did a careful scan of her physical state before sliding back to Anson. "And you want us to stand aside and let you take it?"

"That would be very courteous of you."

Mark smiled on one side of his mouth, and then licked at his lip. "That's fine, as long as you pay me the same respect." His head tilted at the sound of a cocking weapon, but he essentially ignored it. "Tit for tat and all that."

Anson curled a lip. "Why do I get the feeling we're both here for the same thing?"

Mark continued his advance. He replied only with a smirk as he slowly raised his hand to Anson's throat. In a snap much like the breath of lightning, he had him held off the floor, against the wall, with only one hand on his throat. He moved his face in close to his, as Anson had done earlier to Princess, and curled a disgusted lip.

"Actually, what I want is you drawn and quartered and your pieces staked in front of the Spectran headquarters."

Anson gagged and brought both hands to his throat in an attempt to pry himself free from the Eagle. "You're outnumbered, Mark. You can kill me, but the men here will take what we came for."

Mark tightened his grip. "Care to place a bet on it?"

Princess, from her area of sentinel surveillance, let out a breath she wasn't totally aware she'd been holding. "Mark. Don't do this. He's not worth it."

Mark relaxed his grip only long enough to glare in the direction of his ex-third. "Compared to what he's taken from me, his life is nothing."

She wanted to walk forward, but was wary of the other occupants in the room. "Mark, don't. This isn't you."

Mark didn't look at her. Instead, he kept his eyes on Anson, who was turning a deep shade of magenta as he continued to gasp for breath. "I haven't been me in a long time, Princess, and this piece of dirt has everything to do with it."

"Mark, please …"

He ignored her as he released his hold on Anson's neck, but quickly grabbed fistfuls of his purple shirt collar. He slammed him hard against the wall a handful of times. "Do you hear that, you piece of garbage? Does that make you and your cronies up on Spectra happy? You ruined everything in my life. You took my wife, my child, my privacy, almost destroyed my team, all for what? For what? Nothing! You and your group of petty terrorists are no closer to world domination than you were before this whole war began!"

Princess pleaded from her position at the door as she heard the first whimpers from the baby since the attack began. "Mark. You have him, let the police deal with him now."

He kept his glare on Anson, but directed his words to Princess. "And his loyal group of goons?"

She inhaled quickly and held her breath at the standing group of around ten goons who were, surprisingly, not making any move to attack. "I've heard about twenty squad cars pull up outside, this whole block is flashing red and blue. Let the police deal with them. We just need to get Mandy out of here –she doesn't need to see this."

Mark lowered his head, but kept his hold firm on Anson's shirt. "Why, Princess? So they can be out of jail in twelve months to try again?"

"That's justice, Mark."

Mark tightened his grip on Anson's shirt, but did not press him harder into the wall. "And she's my daughter."

"…Who needs her father."

He gave a short laugh. "You say that now."

Anson blinked his eyes between Mark and Princess, and let the quiet between them be his escape. He tugged himself free and fell sideways against the wall to get away from the grip of the Eagle.

"I was wrong, Mark, okay? I see that now. I'm sorry."

Anson wanted to laugh – what a divine situation. Distraction in it's finest; and something he'd never expect from the Eagle. He found a safety position in between two goons and gave a long laugh. The sound made Princess look at him in shock and Mark raise his head regretfully.

"How absolutely sickening. All I need is for you two to run into each other's arms and declare your love for each other, and I will officially be in diabetic shock." He saw the twitch of Mark's lip and took a cowardly step back. "The unflappable Eagle, forced into distraction by his Swan and little spawnling. No wonder you two were under a do not screw order. At least the Colonel had the right idea by walking away."

Mark's shoulders heaved singly with a deep inhale. He pulled his birdrang from his holster and launched forward at Anson. "Princess. I'm sorry, but this ends now."

He didn't register that she didn't answer him as his rang struck out into a goons shoulder on the way to Anson. He was aware that every one of the goons had suddenly sprung into action. He was painfully outnumbered. It wasn't until he leapt and kicked his feet into the chest of the soldier standing as sentinel in front of his target that he took a breath to consider Princess and her possible outnumbering in front of the baby's room.

He arched his body backward by gripping onto the helmet and hair of a goon as he drove his knee into his nose. He searched the dimly lit room for her.

"Princess!"

She was down on her knees, kneeling on the throat of a goon as she struck him across the face with her fist. Still holding onto her set of house keys, with one key strategically held poking out from between her middle and ring fingers, the blows were bloody. She wore a sash of blood from shoulder to hip from a hit to the goon's neck,

Her gaze shifted up toward Mark's warning cry of her name, but not quick enough to avoid the backward shove of a pair of soldiers. She fell forward to the floor, but immediately rolled to her back to get onto her feet.

A sharp hit of the butt of a rifle to her shoulder ended that plan, and sent her scrambling on her knees to the door.

"Mark!" she cried desperately, feeling the hard tug of an attacker on her ankle. "I can't …"

He pulled himself from the arms of a goon and leapt over the body of another. "Coming, Princess, just hang on."

He reached back into his wing to retrieve a feather and suddenly found himself yanked back. In surprise he looked over his shoulder. "What the fu…?" Two goons and Anson had a firm grip on his wing and were effectively holding him back from the door. "Give me a fucking break," he snarled as he grabbed at his neck to attempt to undo the mantle. "Jason, where are you, man?"

"Right here, Skipper," came the voice over the top of whizzing shurikens and clacking bolas.

Mark frowned as he struggled to undo the wings. "Took your time. Lisa, Keyop, protect Princess and the baby. Jase …"

"On it, Mark," Jason purred as he fired single shots from his gun into the chests of two of those hanging onto Mark's wings.

Freed, the eagle grabbed and spun another goon and launched him up over his shoulder, head-first into the wall.

Lisa slid on her heels to the floor beside Princess. Using the hair of the goons for leverage, she pulled them off the panicked Swan and held out her arm to pull her to her feet.

"Princess, are you …?"

Princess shook her head and bolted toward the now open bedroom door for the baby. "God, no."

Lisa followed closely behind Princess, gasping beside the swallow as they watched Princess' whole face warp into complete panic and horror that there was no child crying and reaching up for comfort.

"Sweet Jesus, no."

Princess quickly burst out of the room.

"Mark! They've taken Mandy!" Her voice was high pitched in a panicked scream. "We need to find her."

She was barely decipherable through her panic, but Mark understood her loud and clear. He gripped hard at the collar of the goon in his hold and flicked his head in search of Anson. His shoulders began to heave heavily as his mind tried to work past the horror to actually formulate a plan.

He looked first at the balcony, then at his Second. "Jase?"

Jason gave a firm nod, accented by a curled lip. "Damn straight, Skipper."

Mark looked back and pointed at Lisa and Keyop. "Protect her. Don't let her out of your sight for an instant."

Jason and Mark stalked to the balcony door, Mark dragging behind him a struggling green goon. He snarled as he grabbed the collar of another and pulled him face to face.

"You two are coming with us," he growled as he threw him into the chest of Jason.

The Eagle and Condor gave each other a look, and then took the remainder of the walk as a run. Together, with goons in hand, Mark and Jason leapt, wings flailing over the railing.

~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~

"Knight, what in the name of Roger Daltry is going on?"

Damien angled his head upward to his Squad leader, who seemed to be ready more for a date than for duty. "To blaspheme is a sin, Sir. God's true name is Robert Plant. Remember that lest you get smited by …"

"Can the shit, Damien," he croaked as he thumbed his nose and glared around at the gathering of police vehicles that were flashing so much red and blue that the sky took on a static purple hue. "I'm missing my parent's 50th anniversary to be here, so it had better be good."

"You didn't have to come hold my hand, Sir."

"When one of my team puts out an emergency call to the entire police department, Knight, I make it my …" he stopped and gaped at a roar from above. He, and the entire attendance, looked upward at the sound.

Real time slowed to slow motion as they all gasped at the four bodies – illuminated only by the lights of the emergency vehicles – flying over the balcony of an upstairs apartment. The Eagle and Condor seemed to viciously cry out in the manner of their respective birdstyles as they released their enemies and hurled them to the ground, and then gripped at their wings to slow their own descent.

Damien flinched, as did most officers, at the deafening thuds of the two Spectrans wetly hitting the ground at their feet. "Oh God," he groaned as he turned his head away, missing the pin-point accurate and safe landing of the two birds, who immediately raised out of their crouches and separated in search of something.

Barron folded his arms across his chest and seemed to snarl at them. "I suppose I'd better call S.I.U., then."

"Better find out if Cass and the baby are okay, first, Sarge," Damien suggested as he pulled a small firearm from his belt and began a jog toward the building entrance. "The Eagle looks pissed off. That's gotto mean something's happened to them."

Barron grabbed hold of Damien's shirt to stop him. "This is about Anderson?" Asking about why the Eagle would be so interested could wait.

Damien looked down at Barron's hand and then raised his eyes to his face. "Why do you think I'm here, man?" He pointed at the Eagle, who was still except for the scanning sweep of his head. "Why do you think he's here? The birds don't usually play in our playground."

A long breath escaped through the Bomb squad leader's lips. He pulled is sport jacket off his shoulders and tossed it onto the bonnet of his car. He pulled up his shirtsleeves as stalked toward the building with Damien. "Just what threat are we looking at here, Knight?"

His question was answered by the barreling out of the door of a young man clutching tightly onto a small child. The force knocked Damien off his feet and landed the escapee into the center chest of the Squad's self-proclaimed "brick wall". He stumbled backward, pulling the screaming child closer against his chest.

"Get out of my way," he snapped as he backed off a couple of steps.

Damien's head tilted to one side and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously trying to look at the child. "What's the hurry?"

Barron held his chest out and brandished a badge. "Police, sir. I need you to come with me – it's for your safety."

Damien's eyes flicked at his Squad leader, then back to the strange man. He couldn't help but notice a small spray pattern of blood on the man's shirt that was transferring across to a pink blanket around the child. "Are you or the child hurt?"

The answer was given as a wet sniff and grunt.

"I'll ask you again," he warned as he adjusted the hold of his weapon at his side and raised his casted hand in a "Stop" manner. "Are you or your child hurt?"

The man, whose gaze was dark and on guard, let a fake moment of panic sweet across his features. "Just keep G-Force away from me. That Eagle is a lunatic!"

Barron didn't buy it, and growled low as he took a step forward. "Give me the child."

His eyes flared and he backed up against a wall. "No. She's mine."

Damien narrowed his eyes to take a closer look at the child, hoping that the sinking feeling in his chest would be unwarranted. A whisper of black hair and terrified red-rimmed, blue eyes confirmed his suspicions. Without a blink, he raised his weapon toward the perp's head.

"Sarge, it's Mandy," he said hoarsely and worriedly, not taking his gaze off little blue eyes that begged for their mother.

Barron expelled a growl and raised his weapon in an identical manner to Damien. "Hand the child over, Sir, or we'll shoot."

The perp, Anson, smiled a grin that showed bloody teeth. "No you won't." He pulled a gun from his pocket and raised it to the little child's head. "Kill me, kill her. Let me go, she lives."

Damien blinked and cracked his neck to one side. "Commander!" he called loudly, flinching in time with Anson. "Over here."

It was less than a second before Mark and Jason were at their sides, both scowling at the image of a coward with a gun in a child's face.

Mark fingered at his birdrang and patted his other downward in the air to tell Barron and Damien to lower their weapons. "Anson. Don't do this. Leave her with her mother. Take me instead."

Anson curled a lip in a snarky smirk. "Tempting, Commander, but orders are orders. If I don't bring back at least this kid, then I'm as good as dead anyway."

Mark took a step forward and immediately backed off when he saw Anson press the weapon harder into the child's head. The move made the little girl let out a frightened squeal. She struggled in his hold, letting out a loud cry of fear and displeasure. The sound was like a bullet in the young commander's heart. He winced and softened his voice to a beg, rather than an order. "Please Anson. She's innocent. Leave her out of this and take me. I'll hand myself to Zoltar, just don't hurt her."

Anson let a pleased expression pass his features. "How about you just do that? Although I think I'll be taking little Amanda here as collateral. You know. Just in case."

Mark shook his head. "No, Anson, please. Let her go."

"I really don't think so," Anson muttered in response. "You birds just can't be trusted. I am not going to fall for your tricks."

Mark threw his boomerang to the ground and ripped his communicator from his wrist. His body contracted painfully with the sudden discharge from the de-transmutation field, which caused him a slight stumble, but he maintained his stand and opened his arms in surrender. "There. I'm unarmed. I have no method of communication with the team. I am completely defenseless. Just give my child to these officers and I'll let you hand me to Zoltar." He was a hare's breath from dropping to his knees in an all-out beg. "Just don't hurt her, please."

Anson's response was muted by the desperate cry of Amanda's mother. All five men in the small group turned their heads toward a desperate cry from the side door of the building.

Princess, flanked by Lisa, ran out of the building, arms flailing desperately as she fought against Keyop trying to pull her back.

Mark angled his head in sympathy to her. Panic and anger had long been replaced by fear and desperation and he found himself fighting tears when he turned his head and spoke to Damien and Barron with closed eyes. "Please. Don't let her come closer." He opened his eyes to look at Damien. "You told me you two are close, she'll listen to you." He sniffed shakily. "Partners, right?"

Damien slapped his Squad leader on the upper arm and nodded in the direction of Princess, who was being held back by two officers and the Swallow. She screamed out for Mark, and then to Damien and Barron as they approached her. She collapsed against Damien, sobbing when he finally found his way to her.

Mark held his head high as he turned his attention back to Anson. He held out his wrists as if asking to be cuffed. "You know I'm a man of my word, Anson. Just put Amanda on the grass and take me. I promise you on my mother's grave that I won't back down on my deal."

"The Hell you won't." Jason grunted from beside him. "Don't let them win, Mark."

Mark angled his head toward his second. "Don't let him win? Jason, that's my daughter in his arms. I have no other choice but to let him win."

"I'll follow you," Jason growled to Anson, completely ignoring Mark. "I'll hunt your coward ass to the other end of the fucking universe and rip your balls out from between your legs."

"Jason!" Mark yelled in exasperation. "This isn't helping."

Anson agreed. "Maybe this time you should listen to your Commander, Condor."

Jason wiped at his lip and nose with a single swipe of the back of his hand. His voice was a deathly, ghostly moan as his eyes narrowed and glazed. "You walk away with that baby or my Commander, and I promise you every single one of your family members are next – starting with your little sister."

Mark's eyes shot open in shock, as did Anson's. "You wouldn't dare."

Jason actually smiled in challenge. "Want to take that chance, Asshole?"

Anson actually shuddered. "You're not in a good place to be making threats to me Jason."

"Yeah I am," he retorted with a dangerous smile that even made his best friend shudder beside him. "The Chinese have a great saying: "If you are going to remove the weed take it out by it's roots" which means I'll seek revenge for any pain and suffering on that child on your family."

Mark's eyes widened horrifically. He coughed and turned to push Jason back and away from Anson. "Jason," he snarled hoarsely into his face, "he has my little girl."

"And you're giving into him."

"What else am I supposed to do?"

"Fight."

Mark gave him a shove backward, sending Jason back onto his ass. "When you become a father, Jason, and your child is in peril I challenge you to feel the same then as you do now." He turned back to Anson and, again, opened his arms defensively. "Take me."

Anson, still shuddering from Jason's seemingly sociopathic threat, actually shook when he looked back at the G-Force Commander. Even the sight of tear-swollen eyes and a defeated stance couldn't remove the words of the Condor. He cleared his throat and felt his jaw quiver as he slowly shook his head. The shake of his head was so controlled and static, it was almost robotic. "No, Mark. I'm taking you both."

Jason was still on his ass, and was becoming more painfully aware of the desperate pleading from the raven-haired mother of the girl in question. He tilted his head to the side and clawed at handfuls of the manicured grass. There was absolutely nothing he could do.

Mark, finally done with fighting his tears, let his eyes spill over as he nodded and shakily agreed. "You win, Anson."

Princess' cry from her vantage point brought him to the point of choking on a sob.

"No, Mark! Please God no!"

He took a step forward. "I'm sorry, Princess."

Anson smiled at the whispered apology and waved his weapon at Mark in a demand for him to follow. As he took his first step to the side in escape, a loud crack fractured the breathless and heartbroken silence.

Mark, Jason, Princess, and all present gasped and raised their heads. Anson stood deathly still, his eyes wide and horrified.

The only sound, now, was the weeping of an infant.

Mark wiped at his wetted face. His fingers met viscosity that wasn't tears, and he brought his hand into his field of vision to find out what it was.

Red.

His fingers were red.

Blood. Blood and bone.

His eyes widened as he flicked his head up to the man with his child in his arms.

Where there should have been an ear, there was a bloody mess. Black and maroon in the lights from the police vehicles, the gaping wound immediately identified the cause and target of the crack.

His eyes then fell to Amanda and softened only long enough for the situation to dawn on him again, and as Anson's body began to falter, he leapt in to retrieve his baby. He nudged Anson's body backward as he leapt in to pull Amanda into his arms, and then fell onto his back in the grass.

As he struck the ground clutching onto his precious bundle, he saw Jason launch from his position and onto Anson. As if to make sure of the mortal state of the man, he fired three shots into his chest.

Then Mark lay still, moving only to curl himself into a foetal position to cocoon his child protectively in his arms. It was only then that he finally allowed his emotions to break free. His body convulsed several times in sobs of relief and fear. It wasn't until he felt Princess collapse onto him, over his back to hold both he and the baby, that he finally accepted that his family was safe.

"Who took the shot?" he whispered to her as she nuzzled her little girl's head and assured her that Mommy was here.

"I don't know, Mark," she answered through her own tears. "But I owe my life to whoever it was."

"Me too, Prin."

Both Princess' team and the G-Force team remained a polite and considerate distance from the reunited threesome for as long as they could before enforcement procedure demanded they intrude.

It was Sergeant Barron who stepped up and crouched before them, offering to take Amanda into his trunkfish arms. "Cassie, Commander. We need to get you out of here now."

Princess nodded and pulled her daughter from Mark's arms as she rose to her feet. With her free hand, she wiped at her face. "I can't go back up there, can I?"

Barron tilted his head to one side and closed his eyes as he shook his head. "I'm sorry Cass. But this is a crime scene now. The CSU will need to close it off for a day or two."

"God," she whispered, pulling Amanda closer in to her chest. "What do I do now?"

"Do you have anywhere to stay?"

She pouted much like a child ready to cry and shook her head. She raised her palm to her forehead and hid her eyes behind it. "No. This is all I have, Sir."

"Ahh, shit, girl." He clicked his lips on one side and pulled his cell-phone from his pocket. "Let me call Leanne, I'll have her make up the spare room. You can stay with us until you get the apartment back."

She looked up as she saw the familiar white hazmat-style uniforms of the CSU begin to invade her building. "I don't know if I even want to go back."

"Then stay with us until you're comfortable," he offered as he set a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Hey," he added in an attempt at humour. "At least I can keep an eye on my best investigator. You can't fake a sick day."

"That'll be unnecessary," Mark interrupted. "They'll stay with me."

He raised a brow, looked at Mark and then Back to Princess. She was looking wide-eyed Mark in response to the comment. Barron ducked his head to her and nodded in a silent question of whether or not she was okay with that particular arrangement.

She finally blinked. "Mark, I don't know …"

He let one side of his mouth tip up into a smile and touched his fingers to her cheek. "I insist."

"But the shack …"

"…Is history. I have a three-bedroom home inside the Federation Estates. You and Amanda will be safe, I promise."

Barron seemed to agree with the offer, but wanted to make sure she felt the same. "Cassandra?"

She finally took her eyes off Mark and blinked quickly as she turned her face to look at him. "Yes, Sir. I … I think that's the best."

Mark moved toward her and lay his free arm across her shoulder. He looked toward his gathered teammates and gave them a nod of thanks.

"Come on, Princess. Let's go home."

~O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O~

Melissa didn't know how long she stood at the car with the large sniper rifle still aimed in the direction of where Anson once stood. She didn't know if her shot had been true and whether or not the baby was safe.

All she knew was that her face ached and her shoulder throbbed from the single shot from her high-powered weapon.

She finally blinked her eyes and rubbed them clear of emotion. She took a long, shaking inhale and looked into the scope to survey the scene.

Anson's body was dead on the ground and being swarmed by police officers.

Mark had his arm around the shoulders of Princess. He was leading her to safety – to a place unknown.

She took a step back and let the rifle fall from her hold. As if a dead creature, she looked down and shirked away from it as gingerly as she could.

"I'll help destroy G-Force," she muttered as she opened the door to her Denali and climbed into the driver's seat. "But I won't hurt the baby."

She lay her foot on the accelerator and kicked up dirt with the tires as she fish-tailed the car out of the gravel construction lot.

"I won't hurt her …"