I just finished this chapter and I didn't want to wait to post it. It has a higher rating than previous chapter, so not for the kiddies. For those of you dying to find out what happened to Mike and Kate, here you go.

Enjoy and please review.

Chapter Fourteen

"You set them up!"

Rafael Rodrigues was furious. Anger was seeping at his soul like a persistent virus and destabilizing his psyche until he was little more than a babbling fanatic. Ethan Saunders, on the other hand, kept his cool composition and turned back to his computers. At that point, the young officer couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed his colleague by the scruff of the shirt and hoisted him out of the chair. Ethan hadn't quite expected that.

"We are getting them out. Now!"

"No," Ethan replied, unfazed by Raffy's violent reaction. "We're not. Not until we get the intel that we need."

"You want them to break and start hemorrhaging information to whoever it is that has them."

Ethan shook off the hold and settled back into his seat. "Yes. It's the only way."

"To what?"

"To find out exactly what these guys are planning. They have Marc Watson and they got nothing from him."

"Is he dead?" A part of Raffy was curious now. What exactly did Ethan hope to achieve?

"I don't know. I only know that he wasn't talking when they put the squeeze on him."

"What information could he possibly give? He's a patrol boat captain."

Ethan smiled. "Precisely my line of thought. Which is why…"

"Is it worth it? Do you know what this could do to them psychologically?" The fresh fury was in his throat again.

"No and I don't care."

Raffy scoffed. "Of course you don't."

"Hey, don't criminalize me," Ethan debated. He stood again, and the computer signal lay forgotten in the heat of the argument. "Do you know what my job is? My job is to prevent this next terrorist attack any which way I can. To save lives. Australian lives. No matter the cost to a few good men and women."

"The big picture," Raffy said with disdain. Ethan spoke the truth and it was likely that this group's motives would be revealed when they started asking Mike and Kate questions. He hoped they wouldn't fight their interrogators, but he knew they would. They would never give up state secrets for anything. "What about the Charlie Willis? You know, the driver that never saw his death coming."

"That wasn't supposed to happen."

"You were dealing with terrorists, Ethan. What did you think would happen?"

The IO drew in a sharp breath. "We will go in. I have a team standing-by. Once I'm satisfied that enough time has passed for them to break and for their interrogators to open up, we'll go in and take out everyone."

"How do you know when that will be?"

"I don't. It's mainly good guesswork."

Raffy shook his head. "No. You're leaving too much of this to guesswork. We have to go in now!"

"NO!" It was the first time that Ethan had raised his voice. "No. We wait. This is my operation. I will run it how I see fit."

"How is this your operation?" Raffy demanded. It was a safe bet that anyone on the second floor could hear their loud debate. "The Intelligence Services Act strictly forbids us to undertake paramilitary operations in any context."

"Well, in that case, it's the CIA's operation. I'm just working with them."

Raffy glared at him.

"No, really," Ethan defended. "They'll take all the credit for bringing down a terrorist cell with Detachment 88 and they'll cop all the flack if it goes bad. And I get vital information."

"You've got it all worked out."

"Yes, I do."

"You forgot the part where you sold off our naval officers to unwillingly play a part in your paramilitary operation," Raffy added.

But Ethan didn't look the least bit concerned. "Mate, if I stop this attack, nobody's going to charge me with anything."

Drums were pounding inside his head. He knew what was coming. As if the car accident and capture weren't enough to jog his memory of the beating he took little more than a month beforehand. His wrists were chaffing as he tried to release the binds, but the rope was too coarse and thick. It was no use.

Kate hadn't tried to fight yet. She was biding her time—he knew that. Her body had yet to shake with fear. It had yet to show any emotion whatsoever, but very soon, Mike knew, it would. They were coming back and they would do whatever it took to get the answers they wanted from them.

He knew they were in trouble the moment they had been dragged into the empty and chronically underused warehouse. These people obviously wanted something, else they would've killed him and Kate on site. The floor was dusty and the lights were flicking at best. It provided the perfect environment for illicit methods of interrogation. They had been secured to awkward wooden chairs with rough-threaded rope. Initially, Mike was not conscious and presented no challenge to them. Kate, he suspected, had been too freaked out to fight back, especially with him in that condition. And, half an hour later, when Marc Watson was dragged out from some unseen room, bloody, beaten and altogether unwell, they knew that there was little hope for an escape route.

As Mike got better, Marc got worse. He was barely conscious now and hadn't spoken to them for some time. Mike hadn't risked conversation with his girlfriend in case they were listening, but his expression said enough. He was telling her to hold on. He was convincing her that it would be okay.

The fear mongering tactics were starting to work. After an hour and a half, or longer—they couldn't see their watches or a clock—the two men that had captured them and killed their driver reappeared with a third man. Mike and Kate recognized him immediately. They had seen him on the main screen at the Embassy's 'secret room' earlier that day. Asif Muhammad Gudhunyo was suspected to be high in the organization of Abdul Malik Hussein. ASIS had tracked him to Denpasar, Tehran, Esfahan and back again. They didn't know what he was doing in Iran.

Gudhunyo ignored Marc and Kate and walked straight to Mike in the centre. Kate suddenly felt an air of dread wash over her. This was really happening and there was no escape. She didn't want to watch what took place next. Gudhunyo nodded to the goon on his left. Mike watched him approach with a fiery determination. His hand rose and his fist connected powerfully with Mike's left cheek. Once. Twice. Gudhunyo called him off after the fifth strike.

His mind was barely hanging on to a glimmer of light. His vision was all over the place. Blood was dripping down the bridge of his nose from a gash above his eyebrow. The metallic taste of body fluids was running down the back of his throat. Admittedly, this probably wasn't the best method of interrogation. Mike could hardly keep track of his thoughts let alone answer any questions, and the muscles of his throat had clamped up so much that he was unlikely to verbally communicate.

"Let me make something clear," Gudhunyo said through the gathering silence. "I know who you are, Commander Flynn. I know who your colleagues are. And this was not a random kidnapping, so it is in your best interest to answer my questions."

Mike didn't answer. His expression was emotionless and unyielding.

"You don't want to end up like your colleague," Gudhunyo advised, his head nodding in the direction of a now motionless Marc Watson. His idiomatic English was perfect and they suspected that he'd studied in a Western nation for a period of time, but unfortunately hadn't delved that deep into his file. Information was power.

"I don't know what you expect us to tell you," Kate said when Mike failed to answer. She didn't want to see him hit again.

Gudhunyo smiled and turned around. His dramatically evil face was maniacally expressing harm towards her. She could feel it. "Lieutenant Commander McGregor. I haven't asked you any questions yet, so how do you know what to expect from me?"

Kate went silent. She didn't know what he wanted, but she knew that they couldn't tell him. Their country's national security depended on it.

"So, Commander," Gudhunyo began, "at what secure frequency does the Northern Australian branch of Coastwatch communicate?"

This was strangely reminiscent. But he only knew what they were using two days ago, not if what it had changed to, which it probably had given the upgraded security.

"I don't know," he said. It was partly the truth.

"You were on the HMAS Hammersley just a few hours ago," Gudhunyo debated. "You had access to the most recent intelligence reports."

"I don't know what the frequency is," Mike argued through his blood-stained lips.

Gudhunyo looked at Kate expectantly and then moved behind her. He collected her straight blond hair in fist and yanked her head backwards. She resisted the urge to cry and grit her teeth instead.

"How about you, my dear?"

Kate didn't respond.

"Hm? You are the captain after all."

Her jaw was clenched so tight that not even air was escaping her lips. She was resisting.

"Alright, next question," Gudhunyo said finally and looked at the larger member of his team. He stepped forward and struck Mike again. After two more strikes to the head and three to the torso, Kate was hanging on to the slimmest thread of sanity. "What do your friends know about my business in Iran?"

Mike shook his head violently.

"Come now, Commander. I know about your briefing this morning at the Australian embassy in Jakarta. I know the CIA and ASIS followed me to Tehran. So what exactly did they learn?"

Mike attempted a shrug.

"Your holiday plans?" Kate mused in a strong voice. It appeared that she'd found her composure.

Biting his inner lip, Gudhunyo turned from Mike's chair and walked towards her. She saw the slap coming before the back of his hand made contact. She was waiting for it with aggressive anticipation that almost spelt 'bring it on.' Her right cheek stung and was bleeding—she suspected gold ring he wore on his left middle finger—but her resolve had not lessened.

"Cheek will not save you from speaking the truth, missy," he warned dangerously.

"We're naval officers." Marc said from the corner. It appeared that was still dangling on the edge of awareness. "What do you want to know so badly that we could tell you? Why us?"

Kate was happy to hear his voice. At least she knew that he was still alive and that happy notion gave her hope. It gave them the chance to fight even if their situation was hopeless. Mike, on the other hand, was musing over Marc's question more carefully. He asked a good one. Why were they chosen out of all the Australian security personnel 'in country' at the moment?

"One more question then," Gudhunyo said with a cunning grin.

"No," Mike replied.

"No? You don't even know what I'm going to ask."

"No," the strong-willed officer repeated.

Gudhunyo nodded slowly and turned to the shorter of his team. "Gulain. Untie the woman."

Kate looked positively frightened now. She didn't voice it, but her eyes showed the deep-seated fear she felt inside. Her brave face was slowly crumbling.

"What?" Mike shouted.

Gulain slid Kate's binds off and held her neck tightly in a brace. His biceps were crushing her throat and she couldn't breathe. He dragged her over to his boss and, once more, Gudhunyo collected a fist her blonde hair and brought her closer to him. One arm replaced Gulain's around her neck while the other produced a small blade at her kidney. She could not move or cry out.

Mike was struggling against his binds, not at all concerned by the cuts and bruises on his wrists and ankles. The chair was shaking as he battled against his captors viciously.

"Answer my question, Flynn," Gudhunyo advised, "or your pretty lady is not going to be so pretty anymore."

"Let her go," Mike said viciously. His wrists were blood red and chaffing and his chair had left drag marks on the concrete floor. But most dangerous of all were his eyes. Gudhunyo had to admit that he'd never seen a man react so violently in his life. At last, he was getting somewhere. He had found their weakness and he was going to exploit it.

"Maybe you'll rethink your answer, when I strip your lady and invade her modesty," he said with a wicked smile. "Maybe I'll let you watch."

If Mike weren't bound so tightly that attacking the man before him was impossible, he'd have killed him with his bare hands for the suggestion. The old wooden chair that he was bound to was now shaking so ferociously that it threatened to splinter and shatter.

Gudhunyo was tugging at her white blouse. "The easier way for this to stop, Flynn, is to answer my questions."

His jaw was clenched and his expression showed wild, uncontained rage. But, after a few moments, depressed defeat. He was too tired and weak to continue to fight the immovable wall. The anger was still there, as was the insatiable urge for retribution, but fear of what would happen to Kate was the most prominent emotion and his overwhelmed appearance displayed it.

"Okay," Mike said quickly. "Okay. I'll…uh… I'll answer-"

"Mike!" Kate shouted through her captor's tough hold.

He glanced at her again. She was shaking her head, and through the fresh tears that rimmed her eyelids, he could see that passionate, unwavering resolve. It wasn't just a brave face. It was her. Kate was not about to let him spill state secrets for anything. Not her pride. Not her womanhood. Not her life.

"The security frequency, Commander?" Gudhunyo asked again.

Mike's eyes were locked on Kate's. Her mind hadn't changed. She was still intent on remaining silent. But honestly, he was not sure if he could handle it anymore. Gudhunyo wasn't prepared to wait. He pushed Kate forward and brought a strong elbow to the middle of her back, knocking her to the floor and disabling her spirit in a single blow. He stepped over her and rolled her on to her back. Fear engulfed her courage and Mike's chair was rattling furiously again.

"Tuan," one of Gudhunyo's cronies shouted, interrupting him.

The malicious terrorist leader looked away from his victim in time to see his taller ally crumple against the dirty, grey wall. Not five seconds erupted before Gudhunyo's motionless corpse was on the ground next to Kate. Mike looked up to see Raffy Rodrigues behind the 9mm Beretta with a silencer. The third member of Gudhunyo's crew tried to escape through a broken window on the eastern wall. A bullet from Ethan Saunders' gun prevented it.

Raffy rushed forward and cut Mike's binds quickly before tending to a semi-conscious Marc Watson, allowing his CO to be cared for by her lover. Mike jumped from her chair and lifted her thin frame from the floor, using all the strength he had left in his body to pull her into his arms. She crumpled against his weight, still hanging on to the tears of fear and refusing to let them fall free. She grasped his shirt, taking some comfort in the touch that she didn't think she'd feel again. When his lips made contact with her forehead, she closed her eyes and rested, heeding the safety of his strong arms.