Thank you to everyone reading this and for all the lovely comments so far! I hope you enjoy this next chapter x

Chapter Two

Two hours in

"Blake, stop hovering and just come in." Nadine Tolliver didn't even look up from her work as she spoke. There was no need to; she had been aware of Blake hovering intermittently outside her door for the past twenty minutes.

He complied, slipping through the gap and then standing there by the door looking furtive. Looking anxious.

Nothing that unusual for Blake. Nadine looked up at him and quirked an eyebrow. "Well?"

"Do you think it's unusual we haven't had a call?"

Nadine took a deep, slow breath and released it just as slowly, needing the moment to make sure she kept her calm. She really wasn't in the mood for other people's cryptic quirks right now. "A call from whom?"

"Diplomatic Security. We usually get a call to say that the Secretary's plane is in the air."

"Right."

"Her plane was due to be wheels up an hour ago but nothing yet."

Nadine lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "It's probably delayed."

"Probably."

She could tell from the expression on Blake's face that he didn't really buy that. There was a look of unease gracing his features that he only wore when he had a bad feeling about something – a look that often instilled the same sense of unease in Nadine, not that she would ever admit to it without first having incontrovertible proof of a problem. So she said, "Here's a novel idea, Blake. Don't make them do all the chasing. Relationships work both ways. Why don't you call them?"

Blake looked like he hadn't thought of that yet. "I could do that."

"Do that."

He nodded and disappeared from her office, looking marginally happier for having something to do. Nadine turned back to the work that sat in front of her on her desk, but found herself unable to focus. Because Blake was right. They should have had a call by now.

8 hours in

The DS agents hadn't left yet, and he thought that was strange.

Elizabeth had called Henry just over eight hours ago to tell him that she was just about to leave to go to catch her plane back to Andrews, and by his calculations, she should already have landed by now.

And if that was the case, at least two of the guys currently stationed out the front of the house should have been due to go and join the security contingent waiting to meet her at the airbase and bring her home, but they still sat in their cars, engines idling.

It set Henry's senses on edge as he glanced out the window for possibly the twentieth time that evening since getting home from the War College. He knew that probably Elizabeth's plane had just been delayed for some reason, most likely because she had been diverted to another meeting before she could leave, but still.

He thought that she should be home by now.

Standing in the window of the office he shared with Elizabeth, he pulled out his phone and dialled her cell, holding it to his ear to listen to it ring.

"Have you become a nosy neighbour in your old age?"

"Hmm?" Henry spun around to find Jason crossing from the kitchen, eating leftover garlic bread from dinner, like he hadn't already eaten three slices and a plate of pasta. And dessert.

His son swallowed a mouthful. "Staring out of the window like a stalker. Anything good happening?" Then he frowned. "You on the phone?"

"Oh. No." Elizabeth's cell was ringing out, and Henry gave up on the call, putting his phone back in his pocket and giving his youngest a smile. "Just trying to get hold of Mom."

He didn't know why he had an uneasy feeling when he said it. There was no reason for it. No reason to worry. But he was worrying, and he knew that it came across in his voice and he knew that Jason picked up on it.

"She's late back?" Jason stuffed more garlic bread in his mouth, wearing that carefully nonchalant expression he always wore to disguise any unease he might be feeling.

Henry nodded. "Yeah." Stop talking. If he said anything else to Jason, he'd only make it worse for both of them, which was stupid when it had no basis in fact. Except it wasn't so long ago that their family had a stalker, and from time to time Henry was still prone to think that every little diversion from a plan, every late appearance by Elizabeth or one of the kids, meant that something awful had happened. He tried to keep that tendency away from the kids, but who the hell was he trying to fool?

They felt the worry, too.

Movement outside the window caught his eye and Henry turned back to the glass to see one of the DS agents getting out of the car and going to talk to the driver in the car behind. Then she got out of the car too and they stood talking in the street like… something. Nothing. Pointless – it was pointless to read into a conversation he couldn't even hear, but the looks on their faces was kind of like –

"Dad, your phone." Jason was pointing at Henry's pocket where his cell phone had started to vibrate.

"Yeah, thanks." Distractedly, he pulled out the phone and answered the call, gaze still fixed on the agents talking in the street. "Hello?"

He hadn't bothered to look at the caller display and so he was surprised when the voice on the other end said, "Hold please for the President."

Then there was a few seconds of silence followed by a beep, and then Conrad Dalton, doing his very best stay calm voice, said, "Henry, we've got a bit of a situation... It's about Elizabeth."

OK, he thought, fear already rolling in his gut and sweat breaking out on the back of his neck as he turned to fully face the window the better to see the agents outside, and the better to hide his face from his son standing a few feet behind him. OK, yeah. Now it might be time to worry.

One hour, thirty minutes in

Sleep.

That was her first thought. She just wanted to sleep. Why wouldn't they be quiet so she could go back to sleep?

Elizabeth felt consciousness tickling at her, teasing her back to wakefulness, tempting her with daylight, but she just needed to sleep, needed to be in the dark so that she could drift away and let her mind rest.

She was lying on something uncomfortable, and her shoulders were aching and her mouth was dry, but the lure of sleep was so great she didn't care about a little discomfort. She let her thoughts drift away as quickly as they had come.

Wait. No.

Don't sleep.

She shouldn't want to sleep. She needed to be awake, because something had happened, she was sure of it. Something bad, something that meant she needed her wits about her. She was sure that there had been a problem, but she couldn't quite coalesce her thoughts enough to bring them together into a coherent whole. What was it that she needed to be awake for?

Unconsciousness was pulling her back down and she fought against it for several seconds but, damn, she was tired. So unexpectedly, unusually tired for the middle of the day. Something wasn't right, that much she knew, but it was impossible to resist it, impossible not to give in to the sleep she was craving, the sleep she couldn't fight.

Elizabeth felt the last wisps of consciousness drifting away, lulled back to slumber by the rumble of an engine and the movement of a vehicle and a man's unfamiliar voice telling her not to fight.