Author's Notes: In past times, some victors enslaved the conquered peoples. The victors could be cruel taskmasters and the lives of the conquered individuals could be a nightmare. This action has been repeated throughout history, century after century, war after war. It's as if the human race has never lost its capacity for cruelty and heartlessness.

If we were to view Captain Power with the perspective of previous wars, then during the Metal Wars, there were basically two sides – Dread's forces and everyone else. There would have been independent operators making a profit, innocent bystanders who kept their heads down, and bad guys who would have fought alongside the good guys rather than face annihilation at the proverbial hands of the Machine. With the wars over and no more Dread to fight, these individuals would have the opportunity to go back to their old ways. Some would have turned their lives around and become good guys. Some would have learned new methods of torture and cruelty. Some, perhaps those who weren't evil before, would have joined their ranks. Times change, perceptions change, but evil remains the same.

This chapter may contain scenes that are disturbing to some readers. There are bad guys in this chapter, and these bad guys are just that -- bad. Distinct threats are made and other aspects of the bad guys' operation are alluded to.

I have two versions of this chapter written. I debated long and hard about which to post. A couple of buddies read this story and said that this darker version doesn't go past the "T" rating and serves the story much better than the less-dark version.

CHAPTER FIVE – The Chase Is On

Get her out legally.

That's what Jennifer wanted. That's what Jon was going to do.

That's what Hawk hoped Jon would do.

It had been six hours since Jennifer had been out of their sight, and every minute ticked by more slowly than the previous one.

They had to legally prove that Rogers was committing criminal acts, and Jennifer going inside the prison while they got the information together 'safe' outside of the prison was the way to do it. They didn't like it, they didn't want it, and given the opportunity, they were going to go ballistic. The perceived calm at the jumpship was only a façade, but it was one they had to keep up for just a little while longer.

At that moment, all they could do was wait and hope Jon didn't fire every weapon they had into the prison walls to rescue Jennifer. They got her out of Volcania after she'd been reintegrated, so the New Chicago prison wouldn't pose a problem.

What Ibold had told them, or rather, what he hadn't explicitly told them -- what they were all silently thinking – they were scared. Hawk knew Jon was terrified, more so than he'd been when they had learned Jennifer was alive and being held prisoner by Dread.

Volcania… Hawk didn't like thinking of those months before the rescue. Jon had been an empty shell then, his purpose only to destroy anything and everything connected to Dread. Emotionless, all his feelings bottled up because his feelings for Jennifer ripped him apart inside if he let them loose, focused yet wavering, they almost lost him as an effective leader during that time. He left the ideals he'd kept such a tight hold of behind. He still believed in the preservation of a human life, but he was finished walking the high road when it came to Dread. He waged an all-out war against anything of the Machine. Biomechs, facilities, labs, personnel carriers – he was on a mission to destroy every bit of it. Then, when the news from another resistance group came that Jennifer was alive but imprisoned in Volcania, the real Jonathan Power came roaring back into the shell that had worked beside them for those months. Focused, unwavering -- Captain Power was back, and nothing was going to stop him from getting to Jennifer and getting her out of there. Dread and Volcania learned all too well what the wrath of Jonathan Power was like. It took months for Dread to rebuild.

Why didn't the bad guys understand that if they tried to take Jennifer away from Jon, they wouldn't see another sunrise? Yes, Jon held human life at a premium, but he held his wife's life much more dearly. He wouldn't let anyone take her from him without swift retribution.

"Anything yet?" Hawk asked.

Scout was listening to the comm, waiting for Elzer to answer. "Not yet. I don't like this. How's the captain?"

Hawk glanced outside the ship. Jon was leaning against the bulkhead, waiting for Tank and Ibold to come back. Tank would make certain that Ibold did exactly what he'd been told to do – find out exactly where Jennifer was in the prison along with the details to go after Rogers with – and bring him back without ripping his head off. "We'd better find out what's going on fast. Jon's not going to be patient much longer."

"I can't believe he's been this patient this long. He's starting to act the same way he did when Dread had Jennifer."

Hawk nodded his head. "I hate that we're just sitting here waiting," he muttered. "She's not safe in there."

Scout stared at the comm, willing it to respond. "No one's safe in there, but Rogers can't be stupid enough to let anything happen to her."

"Stupidity isn't his problem," Hawk said. "He's arrogant. He doesn't think anyone can touch him. If he were to find out that we came here on a fact finding mission --"

"Don't say it," Scout warned him. "Don't even think it. We're getting her out of there as soon as we can, and with what all five of us have found out, we'll put Rogers away for good."

The comm pinged. Scout wrote out the answer quickly. "It's Elzer. He talked to Grey and got his help. His informant found out that Colonel Ted Travis contacted his former CO who retired from the military, is now on the Committee, and asked for a warrant on an unnamed youth leader. He said to leave the name blank. It looks like they've been doing that a lot lately because so many of the Dread Youth are still hiding. They just get blank warrants for anyone they think might be Dread Youth. This particular one was asked for special because Rogers and the mayors were all mentioned as being involved."

"Which won't stand up in court," Hawk said.

"I don't think they're worried about a court," Scout muttered as he looked over the incoming data. "It's not just Rogers doing this either. It's almost like… Hawk, you need to look at this."

Hawk moved behind Scout and read the information on the monitor. "People asking for blank warrants and using Dread Youth names more than once… Command personnel, Council personnel, these are people in the Passages, wait … this is a widespread conspiracy, not just limited to Rogers. Some of these names… people from all over are requesting arrest warrants from the Committee for Dread Youth. Unbelievable."

Scout opened a computer file. "Accessing the names on the warrants…. According to the data we've got, most of these individuals are still alive at the moment. They're on work crews and working in factories and houses, some in prisons --"

"Wait – most are still alive?" Hawk asked.

"Most. Others are listed as dead from various causes, but we can't trust this. We already know that the same name is used to identify several people. Hawk, they want to destroy the Dread Youth, and they're using the legal system to do it," Scout said. "I just can't see Council or Command going along with this."

"They may not know it's going on. They may think the warrants are legitimate," Hawk suggested. "Then again, the paperwork may be completely wrong and Command and Council aren't involved at all."

"The question is how is the rest of this scam working and where are the bodies. Do you want to tell the captain or you want me to do it?"

One thing was certain; Jon was not going to like this.

"Hang on…" Scout listened to the message. "Elzer is coming here. He's bringing some representatives from the Council and Command. Turns out they didn't know this was going on either."

"How soon?"

"Within the hour. They're flying here."

~*~*~*~*~

"We don't have a choice," Ibold told the rest of the mayors, noting that Tank was standing against the wall staring at them. "We have to move against Rogers now."

"It would be suicide," Redding told him.

Ibold would hear no dissension. "Power is willing to take the risk to rescue his wife."

"Wife?" Tompkins exclaimed. "What wife? Wait, Chase is his wife?"

"Apparently. I was surprised too. I thought Dread Youth weren't allowed to marry," Ibold told them. "We have to move now. We've all got information we've been hoarding in case we needed to use it against Rogers. The time's come."

Benson shook his head. "And do what with it? Hand it over to Power? We won't have jobs when they're through with us!"

Ibold walked over to Benson and said in a low voice, "Right now, Power is more worried about getting his wife back alive. Our jobs pale in comparison as far as he's concerned. Now I know he holds human life at a premium. He's famous for it, but the man that was threatening me wasn't a captain in the Resistance. It was a scared husband who's going to seriously hurt anyone who harms his wife."

"Enough," Dunstan held up a quieting hand. "We get our notes and any proof we have. We give it to Power. We throw ourselves on the mercy of the Council. They may turn everything over to the Committee, and they have no jurisdiction over us. I hope."

"Think it'll matter?" Tompkins asked.

"We'll see," Ibold told him. "Now, how do you access the lower sections?"

Benson looked a little more worried than the others. "Why do you want to know?"

"There's a good chance Chase might be there since she's a high profile prisoner, and Power wants to get her out. Why?"

"Ibold, the Lower Sections aren't a part of the New Chicago Prison. It's what the Committee calls the dungeons of Facility 7. If Rogers transported Chase there, she won't last long. If she doesn't get sick, then they'll either starve her or put her on the hunt. And then she's going to wish she were dead."

~*~*~*~*~

Jennifer's cellmate wasn't one for small talk, but that didn't stop Jennifer from trying to get as much information as possible. "What happens if they catch someone during the hunt?"

"They kill them," Terese said flatly.

"How?"

Terese coughed. "Any way they want. Take as long as they want. One overunit lasted three days when they caught him and tortured him. He just wouldn't die. Some they shoot. I heard someone was killed with a bow and arrow."

"And the bodies?"

Terese shook her head slightly. "Buried out there. Somewhere. I heard some were thrown near a stream. What animals are left go there to drink, so there wouldn't be any reason to think the bodies would be left alone."

The stream? Jennifer tried to think about the layout of the area in and around Facility 7. This wasn't a location they came to often during the war, but there had been a few times… a stream… within running distance. Perhaps within a few hours of Facility 7… northwest. That's where the nearest body of water she could think of was. It was a gamble, but if she was chosen for the hunt, she needed a direction to go. She had to make sure she did whatever she needed to do to get chosen for the hunt. She had to get out of there so she could find a way to contact the team.

"Are there any survivors?" Jennifer hoped that someone had escaped.

"A few. They get put to work doing other things."

Jennifer didn't like the sound of that. "What kind of other things."

Terese stared at her for a long while. Then, she finally said, "They consider us their slaves. There's an overunit forced to cook the warden's meals. Some are on clean-up duty and laundry. A few drag away the dead bodies after prisoners die in here. A group maintains the ships and transports. Some have it worse."

Worse. Jennifer didn't want to know what worse was. She was scared to ask that question because she was sure she already knew the answer. "Have they hunted you?" she asked Terese.

"Most of us refused to be on the hunt," was the answer. "They put us here to die."

"Why?"

"We are of the Machine. We serve the Machine," Terese told her. "We do not insult ourselves by consorting with traitors to the Machine. Those who show weakness are chosen for the hunt. Those who are even weaker return to do what the enemy commands. I am not weak."

Part of a litany, remade for her current situation.

Jennifer hated the litanies.

"Why leave you here to die? Why not just kill you?"

Terese coughed again, weakly. "No sport in it for them that way. This way, they think they can watch us suffer. Lord Dread was too lenient with those who opposed him. Had he not been so merciful, we would not be here now."

Questioning Dread? Jennifer didn't say anything to that. It wouldn't do any good, not at that moment.

"How do they choose people for the hunt?"

Terese took a ragged breath. Jennifer couldn't see her clearly, but she could sense that her cellmate wouldn't last much longer in the dank darkness. There was a rattle when she breathed. "Overunits and youth leaders are preferred for specialized hunts. Others are chosen for other types of hunts."

Overunits and youth leaders preferred. Jennifer tried to think it through – why the leadership? "Specialized hunts? What are they?"

"We're taught to survive in the wilderness for long periods of time. Foot soldiers aren't. They'll put the three or four foot soldiers on the hunt at the same time. Us, they hunt individually. We're more of a challenge for them."

A challenge? Jennifer realized that the hunt was more than a means for revenge. It was a training exercise as well.

Terese seemed to disappear into the dark and became quiet again. Maybe she fell asleep – or even unconscious. Jennifer wasn't sure. She felt alone.

Again, she tried to find something to occupy her mind until there was a chance to get out of her cell. She needed to get the information to Jon and the others, get it to the Council and Command. They had to put a stop to the killing and the enslavement. She counted drops of dripping water… listened to the echoes… she heard a noise. Someone somewhere had opened a door. She heard multiple footsteps walking, then stopping before her cell door. There was the sound of metal grinding on metal and the cell door opened. Four soldiers stood there, a fifth standing by the far wall of the corridor holding a reader. The soldiers leered at her, making her feel very uncomfortable.

Now she knew what the worse situation was for some of the survivors.

One of the soldiers looked back at another and said, "Not a bad looking one this time. Hasn't been in prison long."

"No. Bet she'll give us some sport before we're finished with her."

Jennifer didn't like the way they smirked and grinned and studied her. She schooled her features, didn't let any emotion show. She had to get out of there.

The man with the reader stepped forward. "Overunit Élan Parsons. You have been chosen for the hunt."

Jennifer didn't move. Who was Élan Parsons?

One of the guards that had spoken moments earlier walked in, grabbed Jennifer and hauled her to her feet. "Stand up when you're spoken to." He jerked her arm behind her back, yanking her against him. He put his gun under her chin. She could hear him sniffing her. "Yeah, you'll give us a lot of sport."

She showed no fear. She just glared at the man with the reader with hate in her eyes. She couldn't fight back – not yet – although she'd take a great deal of pleasure of knocking these guards on their backsides. She just had to keep calm a little longer.

"Élan Parsons," the man with the reader repeated.

She knew she had to put on a good show, force them to think that she was somewhat meek or mild, but she knew it would seem strange to them if she did nothing. "I'm not Élan Parsons," she protested.

The man who read her name off the reader walked in and punched her hard across the face, knocking her to the floor. For a moment, she saw stars.

The soldier grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. "Dread scum will not speak unless permission is granted."

Again, the man with the reader spoke. "The rules are simple. You will have a two-hour head start. At the end of that time, these soldiers will hunt you down."

"Seems a shame," another guard said and he walked in and grabbed Jennifer's chin, forcing her to look at him. "This one is pretty enough. Looks healthy. Why put her on the hunt at all? She'd be more useful in other… areas." The man leaned down, his face very close to hers. "Another overunit, huh? Got acquainted with a few of you already."

Jennifer didn't say a word. She only stared at the man with utter contempt.

Their superior seemed to consider the option. "Some of those areas could use a new supply. However, this one is to be hunted first. Those are the Committee's orders," their superior said. "You four have shown some deficiencies in tracking and subduing your target in a timely manner. If you decide she's worth keeping alive after you've caught her, then you can put her to work in those other areas. Otherwise, kill her when you're done." He looked at the guards. "Take her outside."

As they pushed and shoved Jennifer toward the outer door, she realized how easy it was to make so many disappear. She wondered how many other Élan Parsons had been killed already so the paperwork looked good.

Then she wondered how many others weren't killed at all but only wished they were dead.

~*~*~*~*~

Six and a half hours.

Jon wasn't going to be able to be patient much longer.

"Captain!" Tank's voice came over the radio.

Jon rushed back into the jumpship. "Tank, have you got it?"

"The Lower Sections are not here in New Chicago. It's at Facility 7. If that's where Rogers sent Pilot, then she's near Indianapolis."

"Indianapolis?" Scout repeated. "How?"

"High Security Transport with a holographic cloaking device so we wouldn't notice anything moving," Jon muttered. "Facility 7 is the size of a small city. We've got to find out exactly where Jennifer is. How do we do that?"

"I say we find out from Rogers," Tank's voice said. "I'll get it out of him myself."

Jon paced for a moment. Jennifer was high profile. High profile prisoners were sent to the Lower Sections. The Lower Sections were in Indianapolis. Jennifer was willing to go into the prison to find out what she could while Jon and the rest of the team could work the problem from a legal angle.

Jon was going to do what Jennifer wanted. She wanted to protect the innocents who had not done anything wrong; Jon was going to do that.

Jon was never going to let Jennifer out of his sight again.

"Tank, get the mayors. Bring them to Rogers' office with every bit of evidence they've got. Scout, contact Elzer, and have him bring the representatives there as well. We meet there in half an hour."

"We'll be there," Tank said.

Jon hurried out of the jumpship, Hawk close on his heels.

"We're getting her back, Jon," Hawk told him once they were outside. "We're not losing her again."

"Can't lose her," Jon muttered. "I can't lose her, Matt."

"Look, if she is here in New Chicago, we get her out. If she's in Indianapolis, we fly there and get her out. I have no problems with a jailbreak. I know you're scared, Jon, and from what we've found out, you've got reason to be. But you've got to remember that Jennifer doesn't back down to anyone, and a power-hungry grunt like Rogers is someone she'd take down, no matter what. She's a fighter. Nothing's changed that."

"What if she's been chosen for the hunt and it's already started?"

Hawk thought for a moment. "Then she'll run. She's better out there in the wilderness than any of us. She knows how to survive, and she knows how to escape. She'll find out more for us to use against Rogers and his group."

Jon glanced up at the blue sky. Blue sky, white clouds… the pollution Dread pumped into the atmosphere was dissipating more and more each day. It'd take years for it to be gone completely, but to see blue sky again…

He'd have the brownish/gray skies back if it meant having Jennifer with him safe and unharmed. Rogers may have killed dozens, maybe hundreds, and now his wife could be running for her life while he was there doing nothing?

No, Jon was not going to think that. Jennifer was fine. She was alive, well and fighting.

He'd find her, and Rogers was going to pay.

~*~*~*~*~

Jennifer ran.

When they dragged her out of the facility, she saw several paths in front of her. She remembered an old story about people being able to choose two paths, one was well used, and the other wasn't. Most hadn't returned from their journey. The traveler decided to take the road less traveled since, if most hadn't returned, then it would stand to reason they had taken the road most traveled. She immediately ran down an overgrown path that led directly into the wilderness.

When she had escaped the Dread Youth and took off into the wilderness, she had no food, no water and no survival gear. This time, she had her power suit and four men who would walk through fire for her to rescue her. Back then, she was on her own and was eventually chased by biomechs before the team found her. This time, she was going to be chased by trigger-happy killers who had more than just murder on their minds.

She had to find that stream. She had to find the bodies. She needed the find the proof to get the bad guys.

So Jennifer ran.

~*~*~*~*~

Seven hours.

Jon stood impatiently in Rogers' office as the mayors testified to the Command and Council representatives about Rogers' actions since becoming the warden of New Chicago prison. Papers, names, recorded conversations, the workers' assignments – they had amassed quite a large amount of information.

General Nathan Grey, retired from the United Transport Organization, led the Command representatives. Jon watched him carefully. After Jennifer escaped from the Dread Youth and joined the team, she spent some time working with the UTO. They were short of experienced pilots, so she volunteered to help train new ones. She and General Grey had formed an odd sort of association. Jennifer wasn't impressed by the fact he was a general, he wasn't affected by the fact she had been Dread Youth. The two of them took each other for who they were, and when he needed a good pilot, he called on Jennifer for a mission. If the team needed someone high up in the Resistance for whatever reason, she called on Grey. How ever their relationship was structured, it worked. They had forged a rather interesting friendship over the years. At that moment, General Grey looked like he was ready to bite bullets in two.

When Mayor Ibold finished giving his testimony, Grey leaned over and whispered something to Council representative Tom Wallace. Both looked more angry and confused.

Hawk whispered, "Any idea what they're thinking?"

"Not yet," Jon answered. "But they better think fast. It's been seven hours."

Grey took another look at the evidence in front of him. "Mayor Ibold, is it your testimony that Major Rogers has not only used the Dread Youth prisoners but the detainees but also as slave labor and that some of the people placed in his custody have been hunted by Resistance forces -- to death or worse?"

"Yes, sir," Ibold answered.

"And not one of you mayors did anything about it?"

"There wasn't anything we could do, sir," Ibold explained. "If we put up any resistance, we'd be arrested and put on the hunt as well."

Grey nodded his head. "So instead of banding together, contacting Command and Council, telling us exactly what was going on as you have been forced to do by Captain Power, you weasels basically hid your heads in the sand and looked the other way."

"Uh," Ibold didn't know exactly what to say. "It's not quite that way –"

"It's exactly that way," Grey argued. He turned to Rogers. "Now for Corporal Jennifer Chase. Where is she?"

"Youth Leader Jennifer Chase has been arrested as per directive –"

"Do NOT quote Committee directives to me again, Major," the general ordered. "I asked where she is. I want to know her exact location at this very moment."

"I don't know where she is at this very moment," Rogers said.

"What?" Jon was ready to throttle Rogers. "You're the one who kidnapped her."

"On the contrary, Captain," Rogers brought out the warrant. "I had every legal right to take a Dread Youth who had not surrendered to Resistance forces into custody."

"By a Committee's warrant?" Grey asked. "The Committee was only created to help the Council and Command deal with the various legal issues created on a daily basis by the cross-purposes of the civilian and military concerns. The Committee does not have any legal standing to issue warrants. Mister Pulaski," Grey looked around at the very quiet Elzer, "how many warrants has the Committee illegally issued?"

Elzer brought up information on a reader. "Total warrants issued in the five months since Rogers took over as warden of the prison… 5,127. Since the Committee doesn't have the any authority to issue warrants for anyone, then I'd say they're all illegal."

"5,127?" Grey asked, his voice betraying his surprise. "Were these warrants all issued to Rogers?"

"No, sir. To various personnel all over the continent."

"Wait -- did you say continent?"

"Yes, sir."

"Unbelievable. And what about this hunt? How many have had to suffer through that?" Grey asked.

Elzer looked at more data. "Only a small percentage. Maybe less than 8% of the total. Most are used for slave labor."

"Wait…" Grey took out a reader and quickly jotted down the numbers. "8% of 5,127 is 410. Are you saying that over 400 individuals have been hunted down and murdered by them?"

"At least, sir," Elzer affirmed.

"And these are just the numbers from the ones caught with warrants? What about all those captured after the final attack and incarcerated?"

Elzer shook his head. "We don't have the numbers on that, sir. I wouldn't doubt that since thousands of former Dread soldiers were captured before the Council urged the remaining ones to surrender that some of them were put on the hunt as well. But there is one more thing, sir. I don't think those numbers are entirely accurate."

"Explain."

"The names of the Dread soldiers have been duplicated several times in the paperwork. It looks like several people have all been recorded under the same name, so the numbers on the hunt could be greater than 8%."

Grey closed his eyes for a moment. Then, he looked at Elzer. "This fact didn't alert anyone reading the reports?"

"Sir," Elzer explained, "I was speaking with Captain Power just before we walked in. Very few would have been alerted to that particular fact because the fact that no Dread Youth has the same name as any other is not common knowledge."

"Continent wide, you said?"

"Yes, sir."

Grey sat back and glanced at Jon. "This has been going on right under our noses and no one knew. And we thought Dread was a monster." Then he stared at Rogers. "Where is Jennifer Chase? And do not tell me you don't know. You're the one who orchestrated a Resistance leader's kidnapping. If you are interested in any chance of escaping capital punishment, you'd better answer."

"General, respectfully, I only asked for the warrant. Youth Leader Chase –"

"Corporal Jennifer Chase," Grey corrected him. "She was a leader in the Resistance and a corporal on Captain Power's team. You will remember that fact."

"Yes, sir," Rogers agreed. "As per my orders by the Committee, she was turned over to the Prison Commission's transport team for relocation. Due to the high-profile nature of her position, they believed it prudent to remove her from any venue that would attract any public attention."

He stopped talking.

Jon knew Rogers was answering the questions, but he wasn't answering fully. He looked back at Grey. "He's lying," Jon said, hoping Grey would pick up on the hint.

"I'm aware of that, Captain. That's perjury, another crime that Rogers will be tried for."

"I am not lying, General," Rogers protested. "All I have said is the complete truth."

Grey stood up and towered over Rogers. "Where. Is. Jennifer. Chase? Where did you send her?"

"I'm certain the Prison Commission would have those records."

Grey just shook his head. "He's all yours, Jon."

Jon didn't waste any time. He charged across the room, grabbed Rogers and threw him against the wall. "Where is my wife?"

Rogers tried to wrestle Jon's hands off his jacket. That one statement got Rogers' attention. "Wife? She can't be your wife. Dread Youth can't marry. It's not—"

Jon's arm immediately went across Rogers' throat and he pressed down hard. "Where is my wife? Location. Now."

It took long moments before Rogers realized that Jon was not going to let him live if he didn't answer. He wasn't dealing with Captain Jonathan Power at that moment. He was in the grip of Jonathan Power, Jennifer Chase's husband. Since everything he did was legal, he could answer completely. He'd get even with Power for this indignity later, and maybe have some fun watching the good captain suffer. He pushed Jon's arm away slightly. In a gasping, breathless voice, he said, "Indianapolis. Facility 7. If she's still alive." Jon let his arm relax, allowing Rogers to breathe. The major stood almost nose-to-nose with Jon. He had utter contempt glaring from his eyes. "How could you of all people, a leader of the Resistance, marry a Dread soldier?"

If Jon thought that the question was anything other than rhetorical, he'd have slammed his fist through Rogers' jaw. An oath to preserve life didn't mean he wouldn't deck someone who deserved it and it didn't extend to monsters like Rogers. "I didn't. I married Jennifer Chase. Hell of a woman." He glanced at Elzer, then back at Rogers. "Made a lot of men jealous when I did. Looks like your jealousy is showing, too."

Rogers whispered, "No jealousy, Captain, but I doubt there'll be anything left of your wife except a grave when they get through hunting her. Pretty little thing like that with the hard cases at Facility 7? The fact she's Dread scum won't mean much of anything to the soldiers there."

Jon dropped him and looked back at Grey. "Is that all you needed for a confirmation?"

"Yeah. He's ours now. You go get our girl, Jon. Make sure she's all right. We'll take care of Rogers and this bunch."

Just as they were about to rush out of the room, Jon turned back and shouted, "Take care of the Committee too."

~*~*~*~*~

Shots fired!

Jennifer had turned north in her rushed flight from the prison. She had to find that stream Terese had mentioned.

Another shot flew past her head, another hit her hair, She saw strands of it scatter and fall. She reached up – a huge chunk of her hair was blasted off. They were too close!

Her two-hour head start had been a bluff. Almost ten minutes after she took off, she knew they were flanking her position. Good thing she knew more about surviving in the wilderness than they did.

She had to find that stream, but first, she had to outdistance her pursuers.

Or, better yet, stop them altogether.

She turned northwest, running as fast as she could, her uniform catching on every briar and limb as she ran past. They were trying to run her to ground, trying to get ahead of her, boxing her in some way. It was an old tactic, but they knew the terrain and she didn't. Knowing what they were doing didn't give her the advantage.

What were the rules if being chased? Never run in a straight line. Zig-zag when possible. Put obstacles between you and your pursuers. Try to reach rocky ground so you don't leave a trail. Every single way to avoid capture ran through her head as she ran.

She was on her own. Even if the others knew where she was, there was no guarantee they would find her before her pursuers did. She had to run as if there was no chance of rescue from any quarter. That could improve her odds of survival.

If she could stay out of their sight until nightfall, she could cover more ground in the darkness. They wouldn't be able to track her.

It was a battle of wits. Hopefully, she had them outgunned.

~*~*~*~*~

"Home in on her suit," Jon ordered Tank as Hawk flew the jumpship toward Indianapolis.

"It's not activated," Tank told him. "I'm triangulating the activators' signals now. It will take a few minutes. I can tell you this – she's on the move."

"Dammit!" Hawk exclaimed. "They've got her on the hunt already."

"They didn't waste any time," Scout added. "She'll give them a run for their money, but why hasn't she activated her suit?"

"Buying us time to get there," Jon told them. "Remember, they hide people under fake names. Whoever is in charge there may not know who she is. The moment she powers on her suit, they'll know she's a member of this team. They'll kill her rather than risk having her report their actions to anyone. She has to be playing their game by their rules for now to get what she can on them." That excuse sounded weak to Jon's ears, but he knew it could be true.

She was running. Again. Years earlier, she had ran into the wilderness to escape Dread's forces. Now, she was running to escape Resistance forces.

Jon had to find her.

~*~*~*~*~

Jennifer wasn't going to make it until nightfall. It had been morning when she was taken, maybe eight hours had passed since then? She wouldn't be able to keep her pursuers off her trail.

But she heard something. It sounded like water.

It had to be the stream. She immediately changed course in her mad rush and ran toward what sounded like flowing water – and saw something sticking up out of the ground.

She looked down at what had caught her eye and realized she was looking at a bone. Quickly, almost frantically, she dug around it with her bare hands, the loose dirt revealing more bones – it was a ribcage. Wrapped around the bones were the rags of what used to be a Dread soldier uniform.

She'd found a body, but one body didn't make a burial ground. She looked around, her breath coming in short, exhausted gasps from running so hard.

Think, think think, she told herself. New graves meant loose dirt. Recently dug up dirt would be a slightly different color than dirt that had been undisturbed for a time… spot after spot of darker dirt lay in the area. Large spots. Large enough for a person to be buried under.

She'd found graves.

"Up ahead!" she heard someone yell.

Without another though, she ran further into the wilderness, away from the stream.

~*~*~*~*~

"Got her!" Tank yelled. "She's approximately eight miles northwest of Facility 7."

"Eight miles? On foot?" Hawk asked as he adjusted the jumpship's direction. "She's doing better than I thought."

"How long?" Jon asked

"A few minutes to get there, Jon."

"Everybody, power up your suits," Jon ordered. "We'll need the skybikes."

~*~*~*~*~

Jennifer didn't look back; she didn't leave the cover of the trees. She ran as fast as she could over the terrain.

She heard rather than saw the four soldiers coming after her. They'd gained ground when she had stopped to look for graves. Those were precious moments she didn't have to spare, and she'd lost them.

She had only one true advantage left in her arsenal: her suit. She was holding off powering it up until the last possible moment. If she had –

One of the soldiers rushed out in front of her, slamming her with the butt of his gun and knocking her to the ground. She turned, kicked, slammed his knee with one foot, a little higher with the other and brought him down as he gasped in pain. Another kick to the side of his head slammed him to the ground. She quickly reached up and touched her badge. "Power on!" she said as her armor took the place of her uniform.

"Power level 60%," the suit's computer told her.

Not good, not terrible. She had no choice. She had to use her suit now.

She slammed her elbow into the soldier's nose, breaking it, knocking him back down to the ground. She took off again, ignoring his yelps of pain and threats.

A shot fired behind her, catching her squarely in the back, knocking her down. She performed a tuck and roll and got back up on her feet running. She rushed toward an area where the trees thinned out. She had to gain distance.

"Power level 40%," the computer announced again.

More shots, some hits, some misses, the hits nearly forcing her to fall down given how close they were to her. They were firing in rapid succession. They hadn't counted on her suit. She could almost hear their confused voices. They must have realized she was on the Power Team and they were in trouble they hadn't realized.

There was a break in the trees up ahead. She had no choice. If it was open ground, that wasn't good. If it was something else, that might not be good. Her choices were limited.

As she approached, she realized the break was a cliff! She had been herded into a trap! She heard roaring overhead – skybikes! The team was there! She turned slightly toward the sound of the bikes, tried to run parallel to the edge as the remaining three soldiers took aim at her and fired simultaneously. Jennifer let the suit take the brunt of the attack. The combined blast sent her flying through the air and over the edge of the cliff.

"Power level 5%. Suit deactivated."

Unarmored, she tumbled down the side, hitting every obstacle in her path. She came to rest at a level spot and didn't move. Every muscle hurt, but the pain was slowly receding into the darkness she was falling into.

She knew that the next sounds she'd hear would be the soldiers coming down toward her to finish the job before any of her team got there. After all that, after they realized she was wearing a Power suit – they would kill her for certain. They couldn't afford to let her live now, not for any reason. She had no strength to fight them. She was almost unconscious. Then… shots… yells… shots… footsteps… shots… yells… running footsteps…rocks sliding down the cliff side…

"Jennifer?" She felt a gentle gloved hand touch her hair. Another hand touched the side of her throat… checking her heartbeat. "Jennifer?" It was Jon.

"Wait, Captain," Scout's voice called, coming closer. "Don't let her move."

She sensed rather than heard Scout check her with the scanner. Voices were retreating, sounds were retreating, and she was starting to float… it was such a comfortable feeling…

"Jennifer?" her husband's scared voice called to her, keeping her from floating any further.

"Nothing broken but I don't know how after that fall," Scout said, "and she has to be hurting. We can't get a sky bike or the ship down here. No way to get a gurney or a basket down safely either, not with those rocks. Carrying her… we'll have to sedate her so she doesn't feel anything."

Sedate. She hated to be sedated. She carefully opened her eyes. She was lying mostly on her stomach – that wasn't a great help if she wanted to see where she was. She tried to turn over –

"Whoa!" Scout said, his hand gently touching her shoulder. "Go slow."

She felt Jon's hands under her shoulders, helping her entire body turn at one time. She couldn't keep a pained groan from sounding the moment her ribs felt movement. Next, she realized she was lying on her back, her head cradled in Jon's hand while he gently brushed the dirt off her face and out of her hair. Worry and fear were radiating from his eyes. "I found out what happens inside," she mumbled.

Jon forced a smile. "We found out what happened outside. We told Command and Council. They've got Rogers. We're going to put these people out of business."

"They were chasing me," she tried to explain, every breath causing her ribs to scream in pain. "Jon, there's worse things going on that we knew about. It's more than just a hunt."

"I know. We've got the ones chasing you," Jon explained. "They'll end up in cells next to Rogers after they get out of the hospital." He helped her settle herself a little more comfortably on the ground. "Did they… I mean… did they --"

"They didn't hurt me," Jennifer couldn't shake her head. It hurt too much. "At least nothing serious. Nothing I can't handle," she told him. "But if you want to beat them up, I wouldn't stop you."

"Already did that," he whispered to her.

Scout leaned over so he could talk to her. "Jennifer, there's no way to get you out of this ravine other than carrying you. You don't have anything broken – I don't know how – but it's going to hurt. I'm going to have to sedate you, okay?" He showed her a syringe he'd removed from his first aid kit. "It won't knock you out, but you shouldn't really feel much of anything."

She glanced up. That was a big drop she fell down. Then there was the pain she was already in. She didn't want to make that worse. She barely nodded her head. She felt Jon's hand in hers as Scout injected her with the syringe.

Within moments, she felt that floating feeling return, only this time, it was less than comforting. She also felt Jon kiss her forehead and whisper, "I'll be as careful as I can," just before he slowly and carefully picked her up in his arms. She didn't really feel anything, and what she did feel, she didn't mind.