You Owe Me

by njborba

Steve thinks he's finally ready for a future with Catherine, but nothing goes as planned.

18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Hawaii Five-0.

---

You Owe Me
Part 18

By
N. J. Borba

---

Steve didn't think he could shake another hand or hear another kind word.

He was tired from the long flight. He was frustrated by the way his thoughts kept contemplating Governor Jameson's task force offer.

And he was not known for being diplomatic or patient, two things that his father's funeral had thrust upon him for the past hour and a half.

He'd always known his father to be popular at the Honolulu precinct, but he'd never realized just how admired and respected John McGarrett had been. His funeral had proven that point over and over. Steve was certain it was the single longest funeral ceremony he'd ever attended due to everyone who'd said a few words about his father. Governor Jameson had given a drawn-out speech. Two former Navy buddies had paid tribute to his courageous nature. And three different officers had spoken briefly at his gravesite.

There'd even been a woman who'd shown up with her young son to say a few words on behalf of John McGarrett, recounting how the officer had saved her from an abusive husband.

"Thank you for being here," Steve shook the hand of Michael Morehead, his dad's oldest friend. Still a tall and proud man, though he walked with a cane and distinct limp. They'd gone into combat in Vietnam together and had come home together after each suffering gunshot wounds. Mike's to the hip, John's to the knee. Steve smiled at the man he'd called an honorary uncle in his youth, recalling how Mike had once taken him and John fishing off the coast of Maui.

The older man smiled as well, "Your father was so proud of you, Steven," he spoke proudly as well, "Always talked about what you were up to. And the day you graduated from SEAL training… well, he called me and about twenty-five other guys to tell us the news. He bought a round of beers for all of us," Michael chuckled at that memory. "Good guy. One of the best. Don't make them like that anymore," he finally let go of Steve's hand and took his wife's before they walked toward their waiting car.

Mike was the last to leave. Or so Steve had thought.

His body turned toward the grave, but his eyes instantly settled on the female figure standing to the left. Navy dress-blue skirted uniform. Her head was lowered, hands clasped in front of her. Dark hair pulled back in regulation manner above the collar. The collar not quite hiding the top of a simple blue star tattoo she'd gotten the last time they'd been together. Steve couldn't see her face but he knew her, he'd know her from a distance equal to that from the moon to the sun.

Steve felt himself finally start to relax as he walked toward her, not realizing just how tense he'd been all morning - all week since returning from his mission in North Korea, all eighteen months since he'd last seen her. He hadn't realized just how much he'd truly missed her until seeing her again.

"I didn't see you in the crowd before," his mouth felt dry as he spoke to her, "What are you doing here?" he asked upon standing just to her right. "How did you even know?" Steve's last few words came out a bit harsher than he'd meant.

Catherine lifted her head and not-so-covertly swiped a tear from her cheek, "I got here a little late, stayed at the back," she explained, almost as if talking to a stranger rather than the one man she felt understood her better than anyone. The next few words were a whisper on her lips, "Kelly called me," Catherine revealed.

They stood there for a moment, those soft words between them speaking volumes.

Kelly had called her. Even after losing her husband and father of her unborn child, Kelly had called. Not him. That's what Steve heard in between her words.

"She told me you talked to her about the mission Freddie was on even though you weren't supposed to," Catherine spoke up again, sensing he wasn't about to. But she knew better than to ask about the mission, "She was grateful you'd told her about him dying, but she… she sounded awful, Steve."

"Did you know they got married days before I pulled him into that mission?" his voice crackled with emotion.

In all the years she'd known him, Catherine was sure she'd never heard him sound so sad. His tone broke her heart as she nodded.

"Yeah, she mentioned it to me. And also that she's… pregnant," Catherine shook her head in sorrow, not bothering to wipe away the second tear that cut a path down her cheek and ended its journey by slipping between her lips. She tasted the saltiness of it as she watched him do his best to keep control of his emotions, fighting them with a stiff back, straight shoulders, and both arms unwavering at his sides.

"Steve, I don't know…" she sighed, "I'm not sure what to…" Catherine struggled to find the right words, any words other than saying how sorry she was for his loss. Faced with both losses, that of his best friend and his father, sorry seemed far too inadequate a word. Thankfully she could see in his eyes that he already understood how she was feeling.

"You didn't need to come here. Shouldn't you be in the Persian Gulf right now?" Steve did his best to remain distant.

"I was yesterday, and I will be again tomorrow," she replied, "But I'm here today. I needed to be here today."

He swallowed a lump in his throat, her reasoning so straightforward yet unbelievably thoughtful, "I can't believe you came all this way to be at my dad's funeral."

Her head shook again, a small, sad smile curling the corners of her mouth, "I came all this way to be here for you, Steve." Those words drifted between them for a moment before she glanced around again, "Isn't your sister here?"

Steve sighed, "Mary couldn't be here, she's…"

"She couldn't handle it," Catherine guessed.

He nodded until he couldn't nod any longer, her words still echoing in his thick head: I came all this way to be here for you. Finally he took a small step toward her and wrapped an arm about her shoulder, the other around her waist. His eyes closed as she melted into him, head pressed against his shoulder and neck.

Steve held on to her for a long time, silence between them. It wasn't awkward like it had been a little bit earlier. It was only familiar.

"I lied to you, Cath," he finally said, pulling out of the hug but keeping his right palm against the back of her neck, "When we saw each other last in Afghanistan," he rubbed his thumb gently over another tear that was working its way down her face. "I do remember my dad telling me I needed a woman like you in my life. He said it to me just after we'd dropped you off at the hotel in Coronado," he revealed.

His breathing eased slightly as he looked into her brown eyes, "Said he'd told you the same thing," Steve recalled. "He was right. And you're not the idiot, Cath. I am."

"Can I quote you on that?" she smiled a little brighter for his benefit.

Steve continued to caress her cheek, his thumb smoothing along her jaw and down her neck. "Maybe losing Freddie and my dad… maybe all that stuff about not knowing what you've got until its gone does hold some bit of truth," he admitted, hating that it has taken their deaths to make it all clearer in his head.

She smiled again, stronger, more confident, "I'm not gone," Catherine tried to assure him, "Not going anywhere either," she glanced down at her watch for a split second and frowned, sucking in a regretful breath, "Except for literally in about three hours when I have to get on another plane and fly back to my ship."

With everything going on, Steve felt his thoughts scatter, memories of rumors rearing their head, "I thought I heard something about you and Harrington…" Steve dropped his hands to his sides again, preparing to distance himself from her.

Her head shook, but she didn't try to reassure him with her touch, only words, "Billy and I are friends. That's all now."

He sensed she didn't want to talk about it any more than that and, to be honest, neither did he. Steve let out a breath and glanced over her shoulder, "That your cab?"

Catherine followed his gaze to the cab and nodded. "Yep."

"Why don't you tell him to take off," Steve suggested, recalling what he'd told the governor earlier that morning. 'I can barely afford the hour it'll take me to bury my father.' But for Catherine, he'd find the time. He'd make the time. If she'd let him. "I have a rental," he said, drawn from his thoughts, right hand motioning to a dark blue sedan that was parked along the curb ten feet from the cab, "I'll drive you back to the airport."

"You sure?" she asked, "Don't you need to make an appearance at the precinct reception?"

"I think I've…" he couldn't help be impressed her Intel skills had gathered that information, "No, I'm sure I've already shaken enough hands today. And I've heard how sorry everyone is a million times," Steve sighed, "Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining, honestly… I just… dad had a ton of friends and colleagues and I'm grateful to all of them for their support… but I just… I'm tired of it, Cath. Making nice, small talk…"

She reached out to him and with a quick squeeze and release of her hand against his, Catherine took a step toward the road. "I'll go pay my cab driver and you…" she glanced to John's grave again, "Take as long as you need here."

"Thanks," Steve imagined he could still feel her soft hand against his as he remained graveside and she walked away.

He watched her grab a small camo duffle bag from the back seat of the cab and then shell out several bills to the man in the front seat. The driver actually seemed concerned to leave her, but finally nodded and waved cheerfully before he drove off. Steve noticed how she stayed by the curb with her pack slung over one shoulder. He smiled as he glanced down at the casket that had yet to be covered. "I love you, dad," Steve whispered.

"I'm sorry I didn't always say those words to you, but I do. I always will," Steve swallowed. "And no matter what it takes I'm going to figure out what happened," he vowed. "I'll find who was responsible for doing this to you, to us, to our family. And then…" Steve glanced over to Catherine again, "And then… maybe then I can finally try to do my best to stop pushing away the people I care about most."

With those final words, Steve turned and walked toward Catherine. He knew he'd return some day. That the hole in the ground would be filled, the casket covered, six feet of earth between his father's remains and a pristinely grassy surface. He'd be back to place flowers, to chat with his old man, and visit for his dad's favorite holiday on Christmas Day. Steve even hoped that maybe Catherine would make some of those return trips with him.

He guided her over to the blue sedan and opened the passenger door. Catherine tossed her small pack in the back and buckled up in the passenger seat. She watched Steve stare at his keys for a long time, just sitting in the driver's seat, not making any move to start up the car and take off. She was about ready to say something when he went first, "You said you had three hours," Steve sought a confirmation as he turned to her.

"Yeah, three and a half-ish," she shrugged.

"Can I take you for a drive?" his tone grew lighter as his brow arched, "This is your first time to Oahu, isn't it?"

"It is, and you may," Catherine agreed with a curious smile, "Where to?"

Both his shoulders raised, "Don't know," he turned the engine over, put the car in gear and took off, "Just a drive."

The blue sedan pulled away from the cemetery and veered east. Catherine watched as the bustling city faded and gave way to a coastline view of calm ocean waves and blue sky without a single cloud on the horizon. She noticed various signs for things like Hanauma Bay, Koko Head, Makapu'u Point Lighthouse, but Steve never uttered a word of tour guidance for her. Past the lighthouse they headed slightly north, still hugging the coast.

She spotted a couple islands to their east. The one closer to land was smaller, and the larger had a more pronounced peak.

"Here," Catherine glanced over at Steve, trying to gain his attention, "Can we stop here?" she asked as a park came into view, tall, wispy ironwood trees lining a white sandy beach that was mostly barren.

He pulled off the highway, parked, and they silently made their way down to the beach.

Catherine kicked off her shoes and left them near the tree line. She walked faster than he did, passing a few picnic tables in favor of gaining the full beach view. She inhaled deeply, digesting the salty sea air. It was different than being on a carrier, different than any beach or stretch of ocean she'd enjoyed her entire life. Growing up a Navy brat, joining the service herself, serving for years, Catherine had seen plenty beach and ocean in her time. But there was something special about the spot where she was now.

"Waimanalo Bay," Steve said quietly as he stood behind her.

It was more than relaxing and beautiful to her. It was healing.

That thought had barely occurred to her before Steve spoke again, "I think I was trying to push you away," he whispered.

She turned around to see him standing there in his uniform, shoes still on as he stood in the sand facing her. "Really? I hadn't noticed," Catherine sat down on the sand, not too worried about her uniform. She'd need to change into her BDUs before returning to duty anyhow. Catherine patted the white sandy spot beside her. "Sit," she instructed, "I still have two and a half hours, so… what does that give us, at least an hour here before we head back?"

"I guess," Steve nodded, sitting down as she'd instructed, "Maybe forty-five to be on the safe side."

"What's that island called?" she asked, left index finger pointing to the larger of the two.

"Manana, but almost everyone calls it Rabbit Island," he promptly explained the reason why to her, watching as she eagerly listened to the tale. Steve was curious about how she could be so interested in the island and not seem to have anything more to say about his confession. He took a deep breath, "Catherine, how can you be so cool about it?" he finally asked, "About me pushing you away?" Steve clarified, "I was rude, and I…"

Her smile flashed, a knowing twinkle in her dark eyes, "You were nervous," she stated without doubt, "Maybe a little afraid of the future."

His back went ridged again as he turned to face her while the gentle repetitive sounds of waves hitting the sand echoed in his ears, "I'm a Navy SEAL, Cath, trained to fight any enemy, trained to die. I wasn't nervous or…" Steve tried to protest, but he knew better where Catherine was involved, reminded of their first night together when they'd been so open and honest, "Okay, maybe a little," he finally gave in, "So…"

She could tell he was struggling, not sure what to say. He'd just buried his father and now he was trying to face the biggest question of his life. The future. "You don't really want to have a, 'where do we go from here chat', do you?" she wondered.

Steve could only shrug.

"We start over," Catherine suggested, knowing he wasn't much for serious conversations.

"Just like that?" he asked.

A surge of water rolled toward them as she turned to face him fully, "Steve, when you left Bagram without even saying goodbye I was hurt, I was upset," Catherine admitted. "But I couldn't get you out of my head, and I certainly tried. Lord knows I tried," she whispered, thinking about Billy and Amsterdam and how sweet he'd been to her. And the whole time her thoughts had kept drifting back to Steve, "But I don't want to dwell on all that right now or maybe ever again. So why not just start over. We can…" she shrugged, "I don't know, maybe we can just be friends if you want, friends who go out for beers when we see each other, and…"

"And…"

Catherine looked him in the eye, "I never pinned for you, Steve McGarrett. I was never waiting around for you. All I've ever wanted from you is this," she waved her right hand outward at the beach and then between them, "Spending time together. Whenever, wherever… I just want to be with you, however brief or long."

"So, how does this work, this starting over thing?" Steve asked, still feeling unworthy of her ability to forgive and forget, "Do we re-introduce ourselves?"

Catherine actually chuckled but her head shook, "No," she laid her head against his shoulder, "I still like our first meeting." The waves rolled in and out for a while longer as she watched the frothy water nearly touch their feet, "I don't know how it works," Catherine admitted, "I just hope it does," she whispered.

Nearly a half hour passed in silence as they sat together on the beach, Catherine having moved so her back was pressed against his chest, Steve holding her close with both arms around her waist. Neither of them wanted to admit that their current time was eventually going to come to yet another ending.

"I can't imagine if you were…" Catherine bit her bottom lip, "If your body was never recovered I think I'd always wonder if you were really dead or not." She couldn't help dwell on Freddie, confusion and worry plaguing her mind. She felt bad, though, knowing all Steve had been through recently. But it helped a little to talk about it, to get it out in the open. She wasn't sure it would help him, though, "I'm guessing that's what Kelly's going through right now. It must be awful."

"It is," Steve replied softly, his thoughts focused on Freddie and the last time he'd seen his best buddy. Leaving him had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done. His arms squeezed her a little tighter, "I can't imagine if that happened to you either, if I lost you."

She closed her eyes for a moment, "We need to help Kelly find some sort of closure."

"I agree, Cath," his chin rested against her shoulder, "But I don't even know how we'd start to go about bringing Kelly closure without his…" Steve swallowed hard, "Without Freddie's body," he finally got the words out. "I was told from the get-go that the mission wouldn't be sanctioned, that we'd be on our own if anything happened. And even though I made it back from…" Steve paused, "I doubt the Navy wants anyone knowing we were there," he knew telling her even that much was dangerous.

Catherine sighed, "And I doubt relations with North Korea are ever going to be good enough to bring him home unless we make a deal."

Steve turned a little and so did she, enough for them to see eye-to-eye, "Catherine, I never mentioned North Korea to you."

Her bottom lip was nervous gnawed upon for a moment, "I did some research," she watched his brow raise upon that revelation, "What can I say, I'm good at what I do." Her thoughts churned and it only took her a snap second to make a decision, "I'll contact the State Department when I get back to my ship. Maybe there's some way we can negotiate his body's release," Catherine declared, "There's got to be an angle we can work, either military or political."

"You'd do that, help me?" Steve again felt undeserving of her.

"Help you, yes," she nodded, "Help Freddie and Kelly and their baby," Catherine sighed, "Absolutely."

Steve's pride surged, "I should do it… I can't ask such a huge favor from you, not to mention the possible risk that we'd…"

"You can always ask me for a favor, Steve," she stopped him short, "Any time," Catherine insisted with a small smile that spoke volumes about their relationship, "I can always refuse if I want," she added with a soft chuckle, "And damn the risks. Freddie was family to you. He served his country and he deserves to come home," Catherine declared, "So how about we work together on it? This is the kind of thing I'm good at, Steve. Intel. Research. If I can find something the North Koreans want maybe we can broker a deal, arrange some sort of an exchange. With my brains and your persistence…"

"Work together, huh?" he held her tighter again, surprised by how relaxed she'd made him on such a horrible day. Steve tried not to think about going back to his empty family home, or about searching out all the clues that would hopefully lead him to his father's killers. He just wanted to make his moment on the beach with Catherine last forever. "Did I mention the governor asked me to head up a task force?"

"Here?" she turned to eye him again, "You'd stay on Oahu?"

"I turned her down, but I…" he was hesitant to tell her his immediate plans, knowing she probably wouldn't approve, "I can't leave until I find something about what happened to my dad," Steve finally told her.

"Figured as much," Catherine simply replied, "And you're wasting time right now."

His head shook, "No, Cath, I didn't mean you," Steve insisted, "Being with you isn't wasteful."

Catherine relaxed against him again, eyes focused on the calm ocean, "I could help you with this, too," she ventured, "Finding out who was responsible for John's death."

"No," his body tensed around hers, his words were clear and sharp, "No, Catherine," Steve wasn't going to budge on the matter, "I mean, I know you would," he was thankful of that fact, but more worried than appreciative. "I just… I don't want you to get caught up in any of this mess, okay? I need you to be as far away from all this as possible."

She tried not to think about being away from all of it, which in her mind also meant being away from him. But she gave her agreement in a soft nod against his shoulder. "Will you at least let me know what happens?"

Steve finally relaxed again, wondering how she could always be so patient and understanding, "You'll be the first."

Catherine closed her eyes, enjoying their last few quiet minutes together under the sun.

000

It was way too quiet; the same kind of quiet she remembered after being taken by Lawson.

The sort of quiet that made you aware of all the tiny noises that weren't necessarily supposed to be noticed. Like the gentle rustle of trees, branches shifting and creaking overhead, a repetitive plit-plot-plit-plot sound from somewhere behind or possibly in front of her. Catherine opened her eyes slowly, adjusting to the surroundings. She remained disoriented for a moment before everything came back into focus. It took a little longer to remember where they'd been just a few minutes ago.

Airplane dipping low over the trees… Trying to find a safe place to land…

Catherine stretched her stiff neck and shifted her sore shoulders, the five-point co-pilot harness digging into her chest.

She realized the repeating plit-plot was in front of her; water trickling down what was left of the front windshield of the plane. The drops seemed to originate from high above, dripping steadily off a spiky-leaf, deep green palm tree. Catherine sat forward a little and could tell without even glancing down that the crash impact and the harness had conspired to cause her breasts to leak, at least more so than the longing for her infant son. Catherine wanted to laugh about the whole situation. But it only served to make her mad; upset at herself for ever leaving Evan half way across the globe in favor of trying to help An find her parents.

A deep breath was taken to calm her nerves as she glanced over at Steve.

He sat across from her, a sea of broken windshield glass scattered about the floor between them.

His left arm was already outstretched, reaching for her, his fingertips brushing gently over her forehead - right hand unbuckling his harness.

"Please don't be upset with me," Catherine whispered.

The air that permeated the aircraft was humid, thick and sticky, already causing sweat to pool at the back of her neck and slip beneath the navy blue tank top she was wearing.

"I'm not upset," Steve replied, his racing heart slowing just a little once he'd been reassured of her conscious state. He dropped his left hand to his lap to help finish unbuckling himself before he turned his attention back to her. Steve pressed her buckle button but it didn't budge. After several more failed attempts he reached for the knife in his pocket, unleashed the blade and cut through the tough harness material.

She watched him closely, forehead creased in concentration and concern. Catherine smiled even while insisting, "You are upset. And wasn't it you who said we should fight if we're mad, work through it, make amends?"

He let out a long breath, taking his time to search her for any injuries, "Looks like you only cut your head, but it's pretty nasty. It'll need cleaning," Steve's fingers went to her forehead again. This time they came away bloody. He looked her in the eye, seeing the doubtful glance she was shooting him, "I think I spotted a first aid kit behind your seat," Steve leaned backward a little to search for it, "Got it."

"Why do we always end up in some sort of crash every time we go on a mission together?" Catherine wondered aloud as he pressed a disinfectant wipe against her cut.

His head shook, "Not true."

Catherine winced as he denied that as well, but he held her steady to apply a small bandage. "Should I remind you about North Korea?" She closed her eyes for a moment as he bandaged her forehead, "Or when I took you to Charikar, Afghanistan and we ended up in a collapsed building? Or when you decided to find me at An's house and we ended up drifting in the ocean near the big island while the Kappa exploded. Or maybe…"

Steve shrugged, "Okay, a few times, yes. That's not every time. You always exaggerate stuff. And the restaurant and the ship were technically not crashes."

Her left hand shot outward to motion around the cockpit, "This makes at least four times," Catherine stressed, "Crash, collapse, explosion… call it what you want but we…"

"We what?" he was suddenly worried about her train of thought, "Hey, Catherine," Steve finished her bandage and cupped her cheek, his eyes glancing at the scars that remained on her neck from Lawson and Wo Fat's collar. "Dangerous situations usually lead to crashes and even the occasional building collapse. But we made it through both those situations. And we'll make it through this, too. Got it?"

"Understood," she nodded a little more confidently.

With his right hand he helped her up. "We should check on our…" Steve's voice trailed off as he glanced past the cockpit and down the aisle of the aircraft. He could see the front seat from his position but it was clearly empty, painfully obvious that An was no longer there.

"Where's my laptop?" Catherine asked at the same time, not yet seeing what he had. She remembered holding the computer against her chest before landing but it must have slipped free at some point while they'd gone down. "Ah-ha," she spotted it wedged under the seat Steve had recently vacated.

"Cath, we have a problem," Steve finally alerted her.

She scooped up her small but rugged laptop, noticing it still seemed to be in one piece. Catherine tucked it under her left arm and walked down the aisle until she stopped just behind Steve and looked around him. Her mouth was agape as she first noticed the side exit door hanging open and the stairs lowered, wedged between two large tree trunks. Second she noticed the handcuffs attached to An's armrest, one side of which was hanging open.

He squatted to examine the handcuff, "Apparently she doesn't share your ability to slide her hand through. But she does seem to be as good a pickpocket as you."

He stood, holding something gold in his hand. "Pretty sure this is our dead pilot's tie pin," Steve noted.

Her head shook in disbelief, "An must have grabbed it when she helped me move the pilot toward the back of the plane, and I completely missed it," Catherine realized. "Now are you willing to admit you're mad at me?"

His jaw twitched a little, "Okay," Steve nodded, knowing she could tell when he wasn't being entirely truthful, "You convinced me to bring An all the way here and now we've crashed and she's managed to escape. I think I'm allowed to be a little mad."

"It seemed like the best plan at the time," she lamented her choice now, slipping into the seat across the aisle from the open exit door. She opened her laptop and powered it up, "An speaks Portuguese, she knows the area because she's been here with Lawson," Catherine listed off the good reasons for taking An along with them to find Lawson's compound, even though she knew there were at least as many bad ones.

"Except she was blindfolded on her way to the compound," Steve noted, though it felt rather nitpicky to do so at this point. "And I'm not mad at you, Cath. I'm mad at this whole situation because it seems like we can't catch a break or ever seem to…" he glanced down over her shoulder, "What is that?" Steve noticed the green blip on her computer screen. It seemed to be moving.

Catherine tapped the screen, "That's An. Harry's got her headed north and slightly west of here."

"Harry," Steve mumbled the name, recalling it was what she'd nicknamed her satellite, "You put a tracker on her?"

With a quick turn of her head, Catherine smiled up at him, "How mad are you now?"

"Slightly less," he pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead, sure not to touch the bandaged area.

"I learned from the best," she winked at him.

Steve's chest puffed out a little, "That's right, you did."

"Cocky," Catherine put in, not wanting to feed his ego too much, "But the best," she maintained. "We should grab water and our packs, any other supplies we might need," Catherine suggested as she typed away on her laptop, "An already has a sizable lead on us."

He grabbed both their packs from the overhead bins and rummaged through Catherine's until he found what he'd been looking for, "Here," Steve handed the items to her, "I noticed you were… uh…" one hand motioned to her chest.

She took the nursing shields from Steve and smiled, "Thank you," her gaze slipped past him and out the exit door An had opened, "Although I'm guessing we could step outside into the rain and it wouldn't much matter," Catherine noticed.

"Just trying to be a thoughtful husband," he replied, "How am I doing so far?"

Catherine chuckled softly as she replaced the soaked shields, "There was a time I never could've imagined this, you being a thoughtful husband. You being my husband at all, us with a baby and…" she remembered how things had stalled between them for a while, "It was kind of cute, though, you being nervous and worried about the future."

Steve nodded his head, not too proud now to accept that he'd been nervous about something, "Yeah, but then suddenly I was the one ready to take the next big step. I looked at rings, was planning to ask you to marry me and then I realize you didn't even want to get married."

"We've never had the best timing," Catherine noted.

"Speaking of timing," he put in, "I didn't want to send a mayday out over a non-secure channel before we went down. I was worried about who might've been tracking us or listening in on radio frequencies. I'm hoping if whoever arranged this accident knows we've gone down, which they probably do by now, they'll assume we're dead. But that makes me worry about news media. If mom and Mary hear about the crash on the news…"

"I just sent Chin an email," Catherine let him know, "Told him what happened and that we were safe for now. I also told him not to trust anything on the news, maybe not even trust the local authorities until we can figure out who's behind all this."

"Email's not very secure," his nose scrunched with worry.

She grinned, laptop stowed and pack slung over her shoulders, "I encoded it using the Caesar Cipher Billy and I developed. I figure Chin and Kono will remember it, or at least think to try it. The email is gibberish otherwise. They'll know there's got to be some sort of message hidden within it."

His head bobbed, "You may have learned a trick or two from me, but I certainly did not teach you everything you know," Steve admired as he followed her out of the craft.

They promptly made their way down the stairs.

A slightly pungent and musty smell of wet foliage greeted their nostrils, but thankfully there was no burning scent in the air. Catherine glanced over her shoulder at the aircraft which was snuggly nestled in a very small clearing of rainforest. An area that she'd detected from thousands of feet above ground via satellite imagining. She couldn't help admire the way Steve had set them down exactly in the spot she'd found, without causing much damage. No trees horribly broken and no fires burning. She turned her gaze his direction.

"What is that look about?" Steve asked, noticing how she'd been staring at him for several seconds.

Her lips curled just a little, a tiny smile of appreciation, "I was going to say how impressed I was with how well you managed to land in such a small space, but wouldn't want your ego to explode," Catherine reached into the side pocket of her pack and pulled something free. She glanced down at the cell phone, which she'd redirected the tracking program to, and then turned to Steve again, "An is still headed north."

Steve nodded, studied the compass on his watch for a moment and then pointed, "That way."

"Let's go," she stepped out in front of him, ready to take off.

He grabbed her hand, "Cath, you know this is the Amazon rainforest, right? It's not like hiking on Oahu. There are some pretty serious predators out here."

"Yes, I know… panther, cougar, black caiman…" she rattled off a list for him, "Anaconda," even though she was trying to prove she knew her stuff, that last mention of the large snakes caused her to shudder, "Electric eels, piranha, various parasites, vampire bats which tend to spread rabies, poison arrow frogs… then there's the risk of malaria, dengue fever and yellow fever." Her brow arched, "Have I left anything out?"

"Did you just recite the entire Brazilian guidebook you read during the flight here?" Steve grinned.

She shrugged while wearing a slight smile, "Might've," Catherine admitted, "Steve, I know the risks, okay? We both have survival training, and we each took our anti-malaria meds before leaving Hawaii. I also studied a few Brazilian Portuguese phrases on the flight here. I know how to ask where the bathroom is," her smile grew, recalling their few days in Bangkok and an evening stroll which had led them to get lost in the bustling city while she had to pee.

"Great," he squeezed her hand, "I'll be sure to have you ask the anaconda where the bathroom is in Portuguese before he swallows us whole. Or maybe you could ask the black caiman before he bits off our arms and legs, one by one."

"Love you," Catherine quipped as they set off to the north. She was rewarded with a brief lopsided grin before he turned his back to her and took the lead.

They made their way slowly, realizing there were no previously blazed trails. The ground was uneven and marred by massive tree roots, thick greenery, slightly muddied soil and a multitude of interwoven vines. The area seemed to be particularly covered with walking palm trees, the sort whose trunks were supported by long, stilt-like roots that created a huge tangled maze of branches. They made it difficult to traverse the already forbidding landscape.

And it was warm, even though very little sunlight could actually penetrate the forest canopy. The high humidity caused a bit of discomfort for both of them.

Catherine was thankful for her boots and lightweight rain parka as she watched the forest. Some of the palms had long droopy leaves that made them perfect for allowing raindrops to slide off and land on her in the most annoying places. Slipping into her ear or rolling down her neck, seeping into her hair. "When we get home, you owe me a honeymoon," she announced, walking just a few paces behind Steve who was doing his best to guide her footfalls.

He turned his head a little to glance at her, frown creasing his forehead. "Excuse me?"

"A honeymoon," Catherine repeated herself, "You know, when newlyweds go off somewhere romantic for a few days on the pretense they'll walk along moonlit beaches or sightsee, but the only sights they actually see is the inside of their hotel room and the bodily landscape of their new husband or wife."

Steve actually chuckled to hear her sound so hopelessly romantic, "Yes, I know what a honeymoon is. I'm just not sure why I owe you this time. I'm pretty sure you're the one who talked me into this trip to find An's parents, which has led to our current predicament. So, if anything, I'd say you owe me a honeymoon. I did create that very romantic wedding night for us, so why isn't it up to you to plan the honeymoon?"

"Fine, I can do that," she wasn't thrown by his suggestion. "So are you saying that if I plan a honeymoon you'll actually take time off to join me?"

"Of course I will," he easily agreed.

"Really?" Catherine nearly stopped to look him in the eye, but she knew they needed to keep moving, "Even if we just spend a few days on the North Shore? You wouldn't rush off if Danny or Chin called you about a case?"

"They can handle any case that comes along," Steve shrugged, "And if we were on an actual honeymoon I could just turn my phone off."

That statement actually did cause her to stop and stare at him for a second, though it was just the back of his head, "Okay, who are you and what did you do with my workaholic husband, Steve McGarrett?"

He turned to face her, his goofy grin perfectly accepting of her joking nature. But he beckoned her to keep pace with him knowing time wasn't on their side. Steve figured they'd never make a round-trip before dark. "We had a baby and got married, Cath. And, although that wasn't exactly a traditional order of events, it does mean my priorities shifted to family first. Besides, you're just as bad at the workaholic thing," Steve freely accused, knowing it to be a solid fact.

"Am not," she denied.

With a slow and deliberate shake of his head, he again replied, "Yeah, you are."

Catherine chewed her lip before she blurted out, "I think I'm going to sell Harry."

"Harry?" he was surprised by that sudden declaration, but kept his eyes forward as he led their way north through the forest, "Cath, you can't sell Harry," Steve expressed, "Harry saved our life just a few hours ago. Actually, he's saved my life twice now," Steve thought about that a moment and couldn't help think of their friend, "Billy's still got our backs even in death," he realized, "But, just out of curiosity, could you actually sell it?"

Her head gave a quick nod though he wasn't looking her way at the moment, "I don't see why not. Billy bought it used from Germany, paid about a million for it. And I've barely used it. It's still got a good ten-or-more years of life left in it," Catherine relayed, "If I could even get close to a million for it I wouldn't have to work for a long time. I could just stay home with Evan, relax for a while. We'd have money for him to go to college."

"Or…" Steve stepped over a thick tangle of vines and pointed them out to her, "If you keep Harry," he almost laughed at the way he'd started using her nickname for the satellite, "You could use it to make a lot of money. Cath, you could keep your office open and get government or military contracts with that sucker. You could do what you love most, surveillance, research and recon. Plus you could make your own hours and never have to be out in the field if you didn't want to be. You could probably even work from home, set up a little office in my dad's old library space in the back room. You'd still have plenty time to be with Evan."

She couldn't help mull over all the things he'd mentioned, "I thought you wanted me to work for you and Five-0?"

"With me, not for," Steve corrected, "Yeah, I did," he sighed softly, remembering the last time he'd asked she'd decided to think about it, "Might've been a bit of my over-protective side still rearing its head there, although mostly I made that offer because I know you're the best at what you do," he reiterated, "But the satellite potential is huge, Cath. You'd be able to put Evan through college at least ten times with the money you could make."

"You know it's not about money for me," Catherine countered, "Right?"

"Sure, of course I do," Steve acknowledged.

The crunch of their footsteps and a soft din of forest noise stretched between them for a few minutes until she made up her mind on one aspect of the situation, "I don't want to keep the office space on Merchant Street," Catherine decided right then and there, though she'd been debating it for a while.

"Why not?" Steve wondered, only mildly surprised by her decision.

"It reminds me of Billy, and of An holding you hostage up on the roof," she shrugged, "I'd rather just leave it behind."

He sensed she didn't want to get into it in any more detail and he dropped the topic, "That's fine, so you work from home then?"

"Or…" Catherine watched him glance over his shoulder for a moment, "I could still take you up on your offer and work with Five-0. Maybe I do the government/military contract thing part time and work out of HQ. That way I can also help you guys out with the same sort of things, background research, sort of like when you were trapped in that building near Kahuku. And I can have that end office that's vacant. It's big enough for a portable crib for the nugget, which means no daycare, and we both get to see Evan during the day."

Steve turned his eyes front again and smiled, "Kinda sounds like you've put some thought into this prior to our current conversation."

"Nope, not really until just now," she honestly relayed, "I don't even know if the governor would okay my use of HQ office space or equipment if I'm not fulltime Five-0 task force. And I don't know if the two us working together is a good idea," Catherine rattled on, stepping cautiously over a gnarly tree root across their pseudo path, "What if we get sick of seeing each other all the time, all day at work and then again at home every night?" she pondered, "And you being my boss."

He grinned, "Seems only fair, you being the boss at home," Steve stole a quick glance at her, watching her head shake and her eyes roll, "Seriously, though, we could think of it as making up for lost time," he suggested, "We've spent a lot of time away from one another over the years. And we've always worked well together, my freaking out on you in Bagram aside. I think we could make it work. And if at any point you get sick of me, you can work from home."

She nodded, "Sounds doable, but what if you get sick of me?"

"Not gonna happen," his head shook.

"Well, I don't think I could get sick of you either," Catherine replied, "I seem to have a thing for men in uniform, or men who wear badges."

Her words caused him to smile again, "You'd probably do most of your work for the team with Chin and Kono anyhow," Steve shrugged, "Unless you want to be out in the field?"

Her head shook, "Nah, not right now. I'd like to be able to be with Evan as much as possible while he's still little," she reminded him, "You know, like until he goes off to college."

Steve laughed, "With all those government contracts you pull in you'll probably be making more than me. I could just take early retirement and have my wife bring home the bacon. Maybe I'd even start going by the title, Mr. Catherine Rollins."

"Really?" she loved how they could banter even in the middle of the Amazon with their lives at risk, "That wouldn't stomp on your male pride?"

"I'm not planning to retire anytime soon, Cath. I was joking," he shot back, knowing she already knew that. "I don't care how much money you make. The house is paid for, but…" he looked to her, realizing something, "I never actually asked if you wanted to keep living there. I mean, I'd like us to live there and I'm planning to have the deed put in your name as well. But if you wanted to move somewhere else that's something we should talk about."

"I don't want to live anywhere else," Catherine didn't even hesitate in her response, "I like the idea of our kids growing up in that house, where you grew up and where your dad grew up. There's lots of history there, which is something my family really doesn't have."

He slowed and stopped for a moment, nodding while looking her in the eye. Steve handed her his canteen for a quick water break.

"What?" her eyes narrowed in a questioning manner, "Why are you looking at me all serious like that?" Catherine asked, taking a brief drink.

"No reason," Steve planted a small kiss on her cheek, "I just like that you want the same things I want." He took a small gulp, closed the canteen and focused his concentration back on the path ahead, or rather, creating a path.

"And I want to be Mrs. Catherine McGarrett, just so we're clear," she voiced.

"That a fact?" he turned again to catch her eye, "Wasn't sure what you had in mind name-wise."

A quick nod was given, "I want to have the same last name as you and our kids."

Steve's eyes narrowed in thought for a moment.

"What?" she asked, adjusting her pack, "You're giving me that look again."

His gaze and his thoughts returned to the trail once more, making sure they took the safest route possible. "I didn't mean it to be a look. I just… don't get me wrong, Cath. I love that you want to take my family name, but I'm just trying not to think about you and my mother having the same title of Mrs. McGarrett."

She chuckled even though he physically shuddered at the thought, "You know Doris and I have more in common than you might realize."

"Maybe," Steve allowed, "But there's one way in which you differ." The path widened enough for them to walk side-by-side for a short time. He took her hand, rubbing one finger along her left middle finger. Steve twisted the wedding band and the sapphire ring as he stared into her brown eyes, "I know you'll never leave me."

Having to fight back tears, Catherine nodded confidently.

"Because I tried to get rid of you once," Steve turned to a teasing tone to break up the seriousness, "Didn't work," he kissed her wrist, then their hands parted when the path narrowed again and they resumed their trek single-file.

Catherine glanced at her phone every once in a while to make sure they were still headed the same direction as An's tracker.

An hour in they came to a stream and began to follow it, the ground slightly less thick with obstacles along the bank.

She found time to think as they hiked, a little too much time. As bird song filled the muggy forest air, her thoughts tumbled back through all that she'd been through with Nick Lawson. Not just her time on the ship locked up like a prisoner, but also the times she'd spend with him as a child. The day of her brother's death always seemed to be the most vivid memory, but as she took each careful step through the Brazilian section of Amazon, Catherine recalled another brief moment with Nick Lawson.

One day in particular.

"This is my son, Matt," Nick introduced the young, sandy-blond haired boy. "He's your age, Catherine," the man spoke with little emotion and showed even less in the way of expression upon his face.

"Hi, Matt, Happy New Year," six-year-old Catherine smiled amiably at the boy. Her Labrador puppy jumped up and put his paws against Matt's knees, his tail wagging energetically. "Sorry, this is Cowboy," she introduced. "He's still being trained. I just got him last week for Christmas. He won't hurt you, maybe lick you a lot," she chuckled, "Do you like dogs?"

Matt shrugged indifferently, his demeanor much like his father's, "They're okay I guess."

Catherine tried to think of something else to engage the boy, "Do you like to play baseball? I'm going to be on the Navy's little league team this year. I was on the pee-wee team last year in North Carolina. My dad helps me with batting practice when he's home, but I like playing short-stop more than hitting. Maybe you could be on the team with me, if you want."

"I play basketball with kids older than me," the boy replied quietly.

"Oh, well…" Catherine shrugged, "Maybe I could watch you play sometime? And maybe you could come watch a baseball game when I play, you might like it. Uncle Nick can come with you," she smiled up at the boy's father.

Lawson frowned, "Uncle?"

Catherine's innocent smile stayed put as she nodded, "You're my dad's friend. I call lots of my dad's friends, uncle, because Navy families stick together."

"Families," Nick whispered the word.

Her head nodded again, "So do you think I could come watch you play a basketball game?" Catherine persisted, looking to Matt. So far she'd moved three times in the first six years of her life and it was never easy making friends. Cowboy's presence beside her seemed to give her the courage to try harder.

"Sure, I guess," Matt shrugged before turning to face his father. "I'm gonna see if Mel will get me a cupcake," the boy announced before taking off.

She stayed facing Lawson, patting Cowboy's soft head. "You have a nice family," Catherine remarked, noticing Lawson looked a little lost. "Um," she wasn't sure what else to say to him as he stared at her, "Are you feeling okay, Uncle Nick? You look kinda strange."

"Family is very important, child," Lawson finally said to her, "The most important thing. You'll learn that when your sibling is born."

Her brown eyes darted to where her mom and dad were standing across the room, laughing with other friends. Her mom had one hand resting against her pregnant belly, which was only just starting to poke out at five months, "I know that, Uncle Nick. My mom and dad are my favoritest people in the whole world," little Catherine assured him.

Lawson frowned, "No, it's different, child. A mother can be replaced, and a father… a father is…" he trailed off, "Your sibling is the closest family you'll have, child. It'll be different when your sibling is born," he reiterated. "You'll find out. You'll be the oldest, the protector. Your little sister will need you to guide her, protect her. It will be your job to keep her safe," his eyes bored into hers. "You'll find out…" he insisted, "But how do you choose?" Lawson's head shook, "How could you choose?"

"Uncle Nick?" she bit her lip, not sure what to make of his words, "I don't know if it'll be a baby sister or a brother yet," Catherine said, more than a little confused, "And what do I have to choose? I don't understand, Uncle Nick."

His head shook again, this time as if he was coming out of some sort of a trance, "I should see if my wife needs help heating the casserole," Lawson said before abruptly leaving her behind in the living room.

Catherine stood there for a moment, silently stroking her dog's fluffy coat of fur, "I don't understand grownups, Cowboy. Do you?"

The dog's head cocked to the left to look up at her, seeming to answer with a firm: No.

A loud bird squawk caused Catherine's memories to slip into the past again, mostly. She continued walking, still thinking about what she'd said to Lawson as a little girl.

They hadn't stuck together, not after they'd moved again, stationed away from one another. Catherine really wasn't sure why it still made her feel guilty. It had happened with other base families over the years. Moving every other year meant leaving a lot of family behind. But it had been different with Nike Lawson. Because she recalled now what she'd forgotten over the years, the way he'd looked at her with genuine concern and interest. And the way he'd so easily called her child.

It had been a term of affection; one she felt ran deeper than could be explained.

They'd deviated from the stream for at least a half hour when the pulsating ping on her phone set off an alarm.

"We're getting a lot closer, she must've stopped," Catherine noted before taking over the lead.

She took off like a shot after that, practically dashing the last few hundred or so yards in the direction of the tracker. Steve kept pace with her, having already warned her several times about the dangers of running along the rainforest's unstable ground. Even a slow jog could prove fatal should a branch or vine underfoot cause a fall. But he knew how determined she was and so followed behind her until she stopped short, nearly causing him to stumble over her instead of any errant ground hazard.

"Here," Catherine glanced at her phone and could see the green dot glowing dead center of her screen. It was nearly leaping off the screen as if to scream to her: 'this is it, this is the location of the woman who you still believe to be an ally, but is most likely the one putting you and your husband in grave danger'. Not that it could talk by any means. The phone was dropped to her side as her keen eyes took over, searching the area for some sign of An.

But there was nothing there other than the same trees, underbrush and vines that they'd encountered for the last ten miles of their hike. As well as an extremely squawky bird who seemed to be perched somewhere above them. "This can't be right, she… she should be here," Catherine remarked, one hand on her hip and the other still clutching the phone as she craned her head to look upward.

Catherine couldn't help wonder if An had climbed a tree or something else highly improbably. She was clearly grasping for any sort of answer other than the one staring her in the face, "She tricked us again, somehow…"

Steve took a deep breath, knowing she was upset and trying to control it, "Catherine, I think there' might be something here after all," he spotted a small, shiny object glinting against the sliver of daylight still snaking its way through the trees.

Her left heel spun her around to face him, and the reality of the situation.

"She must have known about the tracker," Steve took a step forward. He scooped up the item and righted his self before holding the tracker in his hand, palm up.

It rested there in his hand, silently mocking them.

But the black object had been altered slightly. The one-inch by half-inch slim body was covered by several knots of thin green, nylon cord, "Why is it…" she whispered, taking the object from him and sagging her weight against a nearby rubber tree. Catherine studied it a moment, "The cord is frayed on one end like it was cut, or…" she wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Or maybe chewed," Steve replied. She turned curious eyes his way, "Doesn't look cut, unless the knife was seriously dull. It looks gnawed on."

The bird above them squawked again and finally came into sight, swooping low among the branches. It was bright white with a yellow underbelly and an ornate lime-green headdress.

It took Steve only a few seconds longer to finally notice something above them, "There's a nest up there, Cath," he pointed to it as his thoughts began to put the puzzle together, "What if she attached the tracker to something that might be of interest to a bird, small bit of fruit or nuts?"

Her nose scrunched, "A bird? Why would she…" Catherine sighed, finally understanding, "Oh, she's good. She had us tracking a bird all this time."

He nodded, "Afraid so," Steve couldn't help be impressed, "Billy once told me An was too smart for her own good." He watched Catherine examine the tracker for another few minutes, no doubt wondering why An had led them astray, "Cath, we gotta regroup," Steve tried to comfort her, one hand resting against her hip, his lips taking a moment to press their reassuring warmth against her forehead.

Catherine sighed again, "And how do we do that?"

"Well," he eyed the sky for a moment, "Seems we have two choices. We either turn around and try to make it back to the plane tonight or camp out here," Steve expressed, "I vote for camping, because we've only got maybe a half hour of daylight left and I don't imagine much moonlight makes its way down here."

She nodded along with his conclusion, "It was hard enough crossing this terrain with sunlight on our side."

"Glad we're in agreement," Steve replied, "That clearing we passed a little while back would be a good spot to camp," he said while turning her in the direction they'd just come. It only took them ten minutes to find the clearing, "Second part of this plan…" Steve dropped his pack on the slightly muddy ground, "One of us should try to form some semblance of shelter in case it rains on us tonight," he craned his neck to gaze up at the sky again, noticing the dark clouds that'd rolled in, "Which seems likely. And the other should try to find some food."

"What, no beef stew MRE in your pack?" Catherine asked, "Didn't think you ever left home without one," she teased.

"I was in a bit of a hurry, smart-ass," Steve tossed back, "So what's it gonna be, shelter or food?"

"I'm only good with tents when it comes to shelter and since we don't have one of those… I'll take food duty," she concluded, immediately scanning the area for something useful. "Ah-ha," Catherine reached out and grabbed a long stalk of bamboo from a nearby copse. "I need your knife," she held her right hand out to him.

"She's not my old faithful," Steve unzipped a pocket on his cargo pants, "Couldn't get that one on the commercial flight to Rio, but I picked up this one in the airport gift shop before we headed off on the private jet. That was while you were in the bathroom," he handed over the knife and watched as she set to sharpening one end of her stick, clearly not acknowledging his bathroom comment, "If you're taking requests, I'd like an elephant."

"For dinner?" Catherine's eyes widened.

He chuckled, "No, I was… you kinda look like you're whittling there."

"Bamboo isn't my preferred whittling wood," she joked, "And I'm pretty sure only eighty year old men still use the term whittling," Catherine smiled, grateful for the way he was able to take her mind off things. She reached into her pack to pull out a spare set of bootlaces, "I'm making a spear." Catherine cut four slits into one end of the bamboo shoot, each roughly six inches long. Then she separated them a little and tied the laces in between the slits to strengthen them. With that complete, Catherine sharpened the four ends to points.

"Apparently I married a female MacGyver," Steve watched, impressed by her handiwork.

Catherine grinned, "I loved that show in high school."

Steve shook his head in amusement, adoring her nerdy side, "Please don't go hunting panther or cougar. Fish or some small rodent would be fine."

"Got it. We're still close to the stream so I figured fish," Catherine turned but only managed to take one step before he called after her.

"Hang on," Steve squatted, reaching into his pack, "I picked up something else along with that knife." He handed her the item without fanfare.

Her face was lit by a bright toothy smile, "New Year's camping trip, right," Catherine remembered as she held the small blue and white headband flashlight in her right hand. She stretched the black elastic band around her head and positioned the light against her forehead. "Can't even pee without you worrying," Catherine chuckled, using the slide switch to turn it on. "This is great, thank you," she leaned in to give him a quick kiss. "I won't go far," her promise was given before she headed slightly south of their campsite.

That promise didn't stop Steve from worrying every second she was out of his sight.

But he distracted his anxious thoughts by cobbling together a decent enough shelter made out of large palm leaves and branches for a frame. He nestled the shelter at the base of a tall Kapok tree, the trunk about eight feet wide with thick buttress-like ridges covered in a soft, olive-green moss. "Not bad," he said to himself while standing back to inspect his work. Steve then cleared an area in the dirt and laid out a ring of rocks for a fire pit, after which he proceeded to build a small blaze.

The last bit of daylight vanished almost as soon as the fire took hold, as if it had been waiting for him to finish.

Steve sat in front of the fire trying to convince his self not to go in search of Catherine.

"Hope you like seafood," her voice carried across the darkness.

His whole body relaxed in an instant as the small beam from her headlight flittered along the ground toward him.

"So…" she made her way toward the light from his fire, "I stalked this juicy looking anteater for about ten minutes, but did you know those things can climb trees? I did not," her head shook which threw light beams to and fro, "Thankfully, I found some fish in that stream," Catherine shined her light across the bow of Steve's palm leaf shelter, "Nice work," she admired before sitting down beside him.

Steve's eyes narrowed as he noticed what she was carrying, "Sorry I can't say the same about your… um, fish, catching skills?" his eyes remained questioningly glued to the large palm leaf she was cradling in her left arm. The scooped leaf held a couple bananas, acai berries, papayas and some other various fruits and nuts. "Interesting looking fish you found there," Steve remained curious, "What happened?"

"Huge red-tailed cat fish is what happened," she actually shuttered, "And by huge you should know I mean, ginormous… busted my spear like it was a kid's toy." Catherine plucked a small, round, dark purple fruit off the pile, "But I have passion fruit."

They reclined against the mossy tree, eating their simple meal of fruit and nuts, "Guess we don't really need this, do we?" Steve waved a hand at the glowing embers, "Since there's no fish to be cooked, and it's not cold out."

"Leave it for a while," Catherine shrugged, "It's kind of romantic."

"Seriously?" he eyed her, lids squinting dubiously at her, "You really want to get romantic now?"

Her head shook regretfully, "No, just trying to… I don't know, forget this day."

Steve instantly felt bad for the tone of his words knowing they'd both been through a lot the last few hours. They were both exhausted and probably not thinking straight, "Cath, I'm sorry. I know this isn't the time," his arm wrapped behind her waist, drawing her a little closer to his side. Catherine rested her cheek against his sturdy shoulder. The palm leaf was nestled between them and he took a handful of nuts, offering her some.

Catherine chewed slowly as a strange noise piercing the darkness, "What's that?"

He listened for a moment to the soft repetitive tones, almost like a quiet helicopter whir, "An owl, I think?"

"Sounds like a warble, not a hoot. Maybe a chicken," Catherine shrugged.

They both listened again for a short while to the slightly eerie woot-woot-woot sound until Steve shook his head, "Not sure what sort of chickens you've been hanging around lately, but that's not a chicken sound. Do you have any idea how many bird species live in the Amazon? Probably more than your guide book listed. How many different birds did we see today while we were hiking? Toucan, hummingbird, parrots… and those are just the few I know by name."

"Can we not talk about birds for a while," Catherine suggested, reminded of An's trickery. She watched him nod while peeling a mango with his knife, "Maybe this isn't the time for romance, but I'd say this is about the closest we've ever come to your foxhole fantasy."

Steve grinned, "It certainly is," he agreed just as the dark clouds finally opened up.

The rain didn't start slowly; it was a full downpour from the start. Fat drops pooled on leaves until the water's weight caused them to bend and buckle, giving way to large splatters against the reddish-brown earth. They pulled their packs beneath the palm shelter and watched the deluge as it turned their fire into a mess of soggy, black soot.

"So you mentioned taking our honeymoon on Oahu," Steve recalled as they watched the rain from their relatively dry spot, "Aren't you meant to get far away from home, wouldn't that cut down on the part about me wanting to take phone calls about work related things?"

"You said you'd turn your phone off," Catherine reminded him, "And…" she sighed, "I think I'd miss Evan if we went somewhere far."

"Cath, in case you missed it…" he waved a hand in front of them, "We're in South America right now and he's not," Steve needlessly pointed out, poking a bigger hole in her theory than she'd managed to put into the cat fish, "Are you telling me he's going on the honeymoon with us?"

Catherine chuckled, "No, of course not." She closed her eyes, listening to the surprisingly soothing split-splat of rain against their surprisingly sturdy and waterproof palm leaf shelter, "I hope you know I really don't want to be one of those smothering type parents… what do they call those?"

"Smothering?" he guessed.

"No, there's an actual term for it."

He shrugged, going for guess number two, "Overprotective?"

"Something like that," Catherine nodded, "Only strange." A sudden image of Kamekona came to mind, which actually helped jog her memory, "Helicopter!" she remembered the term, seeing his big grinning face with a propeller cap on, "They call them helicopter parents, because they kind of hover over their kids at all times."

"Never heard of that," Steve frowned at the ridiculous sounding term.

She was pretty sure she'd read it in one of the multitude of books while in captivity aboard Lawson and Wo Fat's ship, "I'm not like that, am I?"

Steve hated to hear how worried she was about being a good parent, "No, you… it's different for you. You and the little guy, you went through some tough times together early on and you only had each other. I think it's understandable that you want to be protective of him, even a little overprotective at times. But I'm pretty sure it'll pass with time, or at least ease a little. Probably by the time he heads off to school."

Her eyes opened wide, "You mean I can't go to school with him?"

He laughed, knowing she was only joking, "Nope, sorry," Steve humored her, "You know, we could always consider this our honeymoon," he gestured toward the small rainy clearing again, "It's tropical, warm, we're alone… and you like camping, don't you?"

"Yes, but I'm not having sex out here where an anaconda could sneak up on us. Can you imagine the headline?" she sighed, "American couple, former Navy officers, killed by anaconda while they were having sex in the amazon rainforest thousands of miles away from their infant son."

His laughter was mostly muffled by the rain, "You worry too much."

"You're right, I do," Catherine agreed, not terribly proud of the fact. She'd never been much of a worrier before her imprisonment, "And when we get home I can't wait to not worry about stuff. I can't wait for our lives to be normal again."

"Define normal," he flashed a cynical gaze her way.

"I don't know exactly… doing ordinary things like laundry. I want to do a ton of laundry when we get home, wash the baby drool out of everything I own. And vacuum, cleaning all the dog hair off the furniture," she rambled off a list, "I want to sleep in, or… well, lay in bed feeding Evan while both of us are snuggled up next to you. I want to have picnics on the beach, playtime on the back lawn, gardening, you taking an actual day off to spend with the two of us, watching football while curled up on the sofa. I want more hiking trips for the three of us. I want to take the nugget to the store and push him up and down aisles in one of those ridiculous racecar shopping carts."

He smiled, "Yes, that all sounds good and normal," Steve recognized that he wanted all of those things along with her.

"Do you realize it was just over a year ago that we went on our New Year's camping trip," she pointed out.

"You sure?" he sighed, "Feels like a couple years ago, at least." Steve reached over and let his hand slide across her waist, his palm resting atop her flat t-shirt covered belly, "I still can't believe you were pregnant on that trip."

She grinned, placing her hand atop his, "That's right. I remember being really hungry and eating all the trail mix you'd packed."

"And Trooper's nasty dog farts because you fed her muffins," Steve recalled.

Her laughter filled the night air as the rain began to subside, "And we had that book!" Catherine exclaimed, "That conversations book Danny gave us, we were reading and answering some of the questions. Wow… that really does feel like a long time ago."

He could tell she was tired but a little wound up at the same time. So was he, "We should really try to get some sleep," Steve suggested.

"Not sure if I can out here… thinking about panther, cougar and anaconda, oh my," Catherine tried to make a joke of it.

"Why don't you sleep for a while and I'll stay awake, keep a lookout," he smoothed one hand down the back of her head as it came to rest against his shoulder, "I'll make sure no giant snakes come for you in the middle of the night."

Catherine yawned, already succumbing to her tiredness, "Okay, but promise you'll wake me after a couple hours and I'll do the same for you."

"You got it," he agreed.

It seemed like her eyes fluttered open almost as soon as they'd closed.

But it was still dark out and Catherine's eyes adjusted enough to see that Steve was on the verge of dozing off. She glanced down at his watch and noticed four hours had passed since she'd fallen asleep, "Hey," she gently nudged his side, "Why didn't you wake me?" Catherine asked, "I said a few hours meaning two. You should rest now," she encouraged. He needed little prodding, though, as he stretched out and used her thigh as a pillow, "Sleep," Catherine whispered with a smile curling her lips.

The same peculiar owl hoot sounded in the distance. And another unfamiliar noise greeted her ears, causing her to look across the clearing and upward. A small monkey was perched on a branch, seeming to stare down at her with big iridescent eyes. "Really hope you're a friendly monkey," she murmured.

Steve groaned something unintelligible.

"I wasn't talking to you, get some sleep," she whispered to him again.

He moaned contentedly for a moment and then she didn't hear another peep out of him for three straight hours.

000

He was laughing.

Steve hadn't thought it possible to laugh again, not after the last several days of his life.

Losing his best friend in North Korea and then listening to his father get shot over a phone line from thousands of miles away. But here he was, unexpectedly leading a new task force. Four members strong, his new team had helped him take down his father's killer along with a major trafficker, Sang Min. And he felt like he was finally able to breathe for a moment, even laugh. Steve attributed it mostly to one person, though, and not anyone on his new team.

He left them for a moment to place a phone call, stepping out into the hallway of their newly assigned headquarters for some privacy.

The cell phone was held to his ear. Steve listened as the line rang, once, twice… each ring causing him to feel both dread and youthful anticipation.

There was a soft click and then he could hear her voice, but she wasn't talking to him. And there was another voice.

"Rollins, you better take that call outside of our bunk or I'm tossing your phone overboard! Some of us have actually been working the last few days rather than taking leave."

"Calm down, Ferguson," that was Catherine's voice he could hear, "You know I was in transit more than I was actually on leave." Steve heard the clang of a door opening. For some reason it was distinctive from a closing sound to him, which was how he knew he'd spent more than enough time on a carrier.

"At least you got to see AR!" the other woman's voice called out.

Catherine chuckled. "Sorry about that," she said as the closing clang sounded over the phone.

"You talking to me now?" he asked, clearly uncertain.

"Yes, I'm talking to you, commander," there was lightness in her tone, "At least I hope it's you. It was your goofy, lopsided, drunk-Bangkok-weekend grin that showed up on my phone's screen," Catherine remembered snapping the shot of him in their tiny hotel room, "Sorry about my bunk mate. Cassidy just pulled a 48-hour duty shift and she's tired."

"Understandable," Steve acknowledged, "Cath, I know I've only been on leave for a few days, but what the heck does AR stand for?"

Her soft laughter filled the line for a short while, "The first time I showed Cassidy your picture, she said you were cute but against regulation. So now she only ever refers to you as AR, against regs," Catherine explained.

He smiled just to hear her voice, but Steve was more curious about what her reaction would be to his news, "Actually, that shouldn't be a problem now since I'm staying on the island to run the governor's task force," he decided spitting the words out in a direct manner would be best, like ripping a Band-Aid off in one yank.

"What?" she paused, "Sorry, I don't think I heard you right? You're staying on Oahu?"

"I am."

There was a long pause before she spoke again, "But you told me you weren't taking that job. Did something happen? Are you hurt?"

Steve took a deep breath, "I'm fine," he assured her first, "I didn't think I was going to take the job, just wanted to burry dad and… but then I was investigating and it all happened so quickly and now I'm kind of glad. I've already got a team together, four of us. Good people. Well, this detective Williams guy is a handful, but…"

"Wow, that's…" he could tell she wasn't sure what to say. "Steve, if you're happy with the decision then I'm happy for you."

As her words sunk in Steve tried to respond to them, "Yeah? You sure?" he asked. Problem was, he wasn't sure if he was happy or not. Steve knew laughter could cover up a multitude of things. Despite returning home, he still felt like he was running away.

"Absolutely," Catherine replied, and he believed her without question, "Gonna miss seeing you in uniform, though," she teased.

"I'm staying in the reserves," he revealed, a little uncertain about his decision but planning to stick with it, "There'll still be occasion to see me in uniform," Steve guaranteed her. "I was wondering, though…" his voice turned quieter, vulnerable, "Wondering if maybe you'll come back to Oahu and visit now that I'll be here fulltime."

"You're kidding, right?" she responded with a hint of mischief in her tone, "Now that I've seen what that island has to offer I'll definitely be back," Catherine declared.

"I am quite a catch," Steve boasted as he leaned against a column in the hallway.

He could hear her sigh wistfully, but also chuckle softly, "I was talking about that view, commander… the beach, the sand…" Catherine recalled. As she spoke he was transported back to their brief time along Waimanalo Bay, the unending blue sky and water, the warm sand beneath them, the silhouette of Rabbit Island off to their right. "I'm pretty sure that spot is the most beautiful place on the island," she concluded.

"Right, the view," he agreed dubiously, "You've barely seen the island. You sure it's not something else that might draw you back here?"

Catherine laughed outright, "Well, the view is number one, but… I guess a close second would be because you owe me dinner."

Steve nodded, a pleased smile on his face as he tried to recall the feel of his arms squeezed about her waist, "Next time you visit Oahu I promise we'll finally have that dinner, one way or another. Even if I have to cook it myself, deal?"

"That's a promise I'm going to hold you to," she agreed. A stretch of silence lingered between them for a moment until he heard her voice again, "You okay?" her concern was evident.

"Sure," Steve shrugged, looking through the office windows to see his new team still huddled and chatting.

Her breath hitched a moment before she spoke again, "I know how well you've perfected your tough guy routine over the years, but you lost Freddie and your dad in a matter of hours and…" Catherine sighed, "If it was my dad I'd be a mess right now and… I hope you realize that if you ever want to fall apart, I'm here for that. I'm here if you want to talk or not talk, or if you just need a favor, or a drinking buddy… or…"

"Thank you, Cath," he got the subtle hint that she was trying not to push him. It was clear to him that she understood he'd probably never take her up on the falling apart bit, but he was thankful of her offer more than he could say. For her sake he tried to put a few words to his feelings, "I'm not sure I'd be doing half as well as I am right now if you hadn't been there the other day for my dad's funeral."

She exhaled contentedly, "Well, before you go getting all mushy on me… I'm back on duty in an hour."

"Guess I should let you go then," Steve replied, "But I'll call you again, soon."

"Uh huh, I've heard that line before," Catherine remarked.

He nodded regretfully, "I promise this time."

000

A hazy beam of sunlight cut a narrow swath through the thick tree canopy.

Opening both eyes, Steve discovered his head pressed against Catherine's warm thigh. From his vantage point he watched two monkeys leap from one tree to another, seeming to chase each other. They had brownish-black bodies and wispy, white mustache-like facial hair. Steve identified them as Tamarin, which he'd read about in Catherine's guide book while she'd slept. Closer to him, Steve noticed the cell phone on her lap - screen lit, picture displayed.

Without letting her know he was awake, Steve inspected the snapshot. He was surprised to find it was a picture of himself on their sofa back home, his eyes closed and baby Evan resting atop his chest. "When did you take that?" he asked.

Catherine wasn't startled by his voice, she'd already been aware of his wakeful breathing.

"Day before we left. I'd just gotten back from the store after buying that rice formula for Evan. You two were napping on the sofa and I couldn't resist," she swiped the phone as Steve sat up and leaned his shoulder against hers. Catherine showed him the next picture in the series. The second shot was a zoomed out version revealing more of the floor, "Here you can see Trooper joined in on the snoozing," she noted.

Steve smiled to see the dog curled up on the floor in front of the sofa. "She never misses an opportunity to nap."

"Look at his little legs and arms," Catherine pointed; focused on the baby, "Did you notice they're getting chubby? It's not just his cheeks anymore," she ran a finger along his tiny picture-body. "And he has no neck, just chub rolls… makes me want to kiss him all over."

He laughed at her comment, his gaze on her now rather than the pictures, "You sure you didn't get bitten by a malaria carrying mosquito while I was asleep?" Steve noticed her nose scrunch, "I just don't think I've ever heard you be so gooey about the little guy before. You're usually very serious in mommy-mode, diaper, feed, tummy time. But it's no wonder he's getting chubby the way you feed him on demand. His slightest little cry or discomfort and suddenly your breasts are in his mouth."

"Like father like son," Catherine quipped.

His mouth hung open a moment but he simply shook his head.

"Seriously, first off…" she pointed a finger at Steve, "Breastfed babies need to nurse frequently. Second," another finger was aimed his way, "I'm not gooey over him. But he's grown so much and starting to really show his personality. It seemed like for so long he was just this little eat, sleep and poop nugget. Now he's a smiley, wiggly, grabby-hand nugget. He's finally fun," she declared, "And the more I learn about him, the more I love him. Just like his daddy."

Steve smiled, "Fair enough."

"And right now I miss him so much," Catherine admitted, "I'm glad I never had kids while I was in the Navy. Being apart from him is actually painful."

"I know what you mean," Steve agreed. "I never wanted a family. After my mom died and my dad sent me away I figured… well, I didn't want to ever risk that sort of thing happening to me, family getting broken apart. I guess that's part of the reason why I pushed you away in Bagram."

Her lips became a thin line for a moment, "Sorry I messed everything up for you."

"Come on, Cath…" his head shook slightly before he looked her in the eye, "You know we're well past all that. You didn't mess anything up for me, you made it right. You kicked me upside the head," Steve recalled, "Thankfully, not quite literally. But you made me see what I really wanted all along; you and Evan. Couldn't imagine life without either of you now."

She was glad to hear him say those things, though not usually one for needing reassurance. But her nerves were rattled at the moment.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sensing she was upset or worried, maybe both.

Catherine exhaled, "My computer is dead, just checked the battery this morning. Cell phone still has power but without the computer to relay a signal from Harry…" her head shook, "All that crap about men having a better sense of direction feels true right now because I don't know where the heck we are without GPS coordinates. And I knew I should've brought a Sat phone. Or maybe we should've just called for a helicopter out of here rather than trying to track down An, because that went so well for us yesterday."

"Hey," Steve could tell she was starting to let the ordeal get the better of her. He'd been with her through worse, tramping blindly through North Korea came to mind. But never when getting home to their son was weighing on their minds, "I can get us back to the plane. There should be some residual power there, enough to get a signal from Harry and send another message off. You told Chin where we are, right?"

"Not coordinates," she sighed.

"Well… that doesn't matter," he shrugged it off, "We'll find a way out of this mess, we always do," Steve maintained, reaching for his pack where they'd stored some of the left over fruit and nuts from their dinner. Of course they could gather more just about anywhere as it was all in abundance around them, "Here, eat something, you'll feel better," he insisted, "And try to think about the positive things on this trip so far."

"Such as…"

He shrugged, "Nothing has blown up or caved in on us."

Catherine cracked a small smile, "Yet."

They munched on bananas and cacao beans while cleaning up the camp and repacking their bags.

After doing their best to leave no trace of having camped there, Steve studied the compass on his watch and headed them back toward the plane.

A half hour into their return trip Catherine was feeling a little better as the food digested and turned into fuel, "You know, if we can't find our way out of here we'll be alright," she spoke to his back as they walked, "You could make a larger version of that palm shelter and we'll just live here in the amazon bush, befriend the monkeys, learn to swing on vines and even have a couple bush babies," she rambled, "Then someday when Evan is old enough he'll come searching for his lost parents and get to meet his bush brothers."

"That's quite an interesting story you've made up there," Steve smiled as he kept his eyes aimed forward, "A lot of Swiss Family Robinson mixed with a little Tarzan."

She finally laughed, "This is what happens when I miss someone like I miss Evan right now. I make up scenarios, wonder how things might've been or could be," Catherine turned a bit melancholy again, "I did that a lot as a little kid, mostly stories about Ben."

He recalled her mentioning that once, "You ever make up stories when you missed me?" Steve asked.

"Who said I ever missed you?" she teased, trying hard not to remember all those agonizingly long days at sea on the Kappa, "Yes, okay… maybe once or twice. And they were usually very X-rated." Catherine was thankful of the brief laughter that they shared, but her thoughts quickly tumbled back into the realm of genuine worry, "I shouldn't have wasted so much phone battery starring at pictures of the nugget, but…" Catherine sighed, "We should record a message for him. Tell him how much we love him. If anything does happen to us then…"

Steve stopped and turned to her, "Cath, don't go there," he tried to sway her away from that line of thinking even though he'd been doing some of the same.

"I don't want to go there any more than you do, trust me on that, but I think we have to. He needs to know…" she gulped, swallowing a large lump in her throat, "If we don't make it out of this I want him to know how much we love him."

"Evan will know we love him, Cath," Steve took a step toward her, one hand squeezing her shoulder as he kissed her softly on the lips. His forehead rested against hers for a moment as they looked each other in the eye, the trees and birds and the rest of the world fading from view, "He'll know we love him because everyone back home will tell him," Steve believed that in the pit of his stomach, "They'll take care of him. Evan will be okay with his ohana."

Catherine nodded, "We never decided who, though," she pointed out.

"Who… what," Steve wondered what she was talking about as they broke apart and he took the lead again.

"Who exactly would take care of him if we both died?" Catherine clarified as she trailed behind him.

Steve realized she was right, "Danny," he stated, glad to be able to talk about it seriously without her freaking out. But there was silence behind him and he turned to glance at her over his shoulder for a moment. Steve noticed the way she bit her lip, as if to protest, "Not Danny?"

"I love Danny, you know that. Danny's family," Catherine defended her wavering as they kept walking, "It's just that… he works a dangerous job, and he's already a single parent to Grace. I'd hate to think about if Evan lost both of us and then lost Danny at some point," she rationalized, "I'd rather he have someone more stable."

He nodded, "Your parents then," Steve guessed, "Well, your mom and Ted."

"No."

That response surprised him but he kept pace knowing they needed to get back to the plane, "Really, not even them?"

"I want them to be grandparents," Catherine explained, "They shouldn't have to raise a baby now after raising their kids."

"Okay…" Steve was growing more curious by the second, "You know I admire the heck out of the Admiral, but he's never giving up his job to…" he spared another glance her way and watched her head shake, "So not your dad either," he realized. There was another brief pause in their conversation as they walked. Suddenly his eyes widened and Steve spun around again, "I know you're not about to suggest Doris."

"No," Catherine's response was immediate and she heard him sigh with relief as he turned around again. "Mary."

His brow rose, not quite as shocked as when he was thinking she might want his mom to raise Evan. But he was still surprised. "Mary…" Steve slowed and took Catherine's hand as he helped her over a rock that was slick from the night's rain, "As in my sister, Mary?"

"Yes, that's the only Mary I know that you also know," she chuckled. "I think she's the best choice. She's family, but not a grandparent. And she doesn't work a dangerous job."

"As far as I know she doesn't work any job at the moment," Steve pointed out as they returned to a less rocky section of terrain, "In case you never noticed this before, my sister is not the most stable person. She's still trying to raise herself. I think throwing a kid into her life might…"

"Might actually make her grow up and realize she's not the baby of the family any longer," Catherine interjected, "Steve, I know she's always going to be your kid sister, but she's grown up a lot lately. And she wants to move back to Oahu and try to be an active part of the family again. I think she's the best choice, and she'd have Danny and the rest of the team to help support her, Doris and my parents as well. She'd have money from our life insurance. She'd be okay."

"Yeah, you might be on to something there," he was slowly warming to the idea, more so impressed that she felt such confidence in his sister.

"Of course you know I hope it never, ever, comes to that," Catherine added.

Steve nodded, "Me, too."

"So you'll record a message with me," she persisted, "Just in case."

"Cath, I don't know…" he stopped beside a hulking tree and leaned against it, facing her, seeing she already had her phone out, "…and say what?"

She smiled softly, holding the phone closer to him, "I just want him to hear our voices and… hear us both say that we love him. That's all, a simple I love you."

He nodded, "Push the button," Steve waited for it, then spoke into the microphone without a note of hesitation, "Daddy loves you, champ."

"I love you, too, nugget," Catherine quickly added to their message, not wanting emotions to get the better of her, "And we want you to know that we were here doing all this, risking our lives, in order to try and make the world a safer place for you to grow up. So no matter what happens, we're doing this for you, Evan," she turned her gaze upon Steve and shrugged, "I got a little too sappy at the end, didn't I?"

"Well…"

"No, you're right," she cut him off. "Pregnancy should come with some sort of disclaimer. Warning: Motherhood will most likely turn even the toughest Navy office into a neurotic sap."

Steve laughed, "Don't worry about it too much. I'll be sure to let you know you've gone over the top if you ever start posting on Facebook about how Evan is the cutest-wootest baby in the world," he smiled as she stuck her tongue out at him. Steve noticed something about the phone in her hand, "You realize you're still recording this part, right?"

"Oh, shit…" she glanced down at the phone.

"And now the last words our son will hear from us… his mother swearing," Steve laughed a little harder, "Now that's the Navy Lieutenant I fell in love with."

"Shut up," she glared at him, "I'll delete this part if I have enough battery power to…" Catherine was so distracted by his laughing at her that she fumbled with the phone a moment longer, "Why can't I find the dang end recording button on this app?"

"No way are we deleting this… it's the best part," Steve insisted as he watched her finally manage to stop the recording.

The phone was tucked into the side pocket of her pack as they resumed their trek, able to walk side-by-side for a while. "Steve, we're going to see him again," she whispered.

Her words weren't a question, but Steve knew she was looking for a bit more reassurance. Luckily, that was the one thing he could give her at the moment. "We will," Steve agreed, wrapping his arm about her waist as they continued toward the plane.

They walked for a long time that morning, both of them praying Evan would never have to listen to the recording unless they were listening with him.

After about five respites to re-hydrate, two stops to pee and one lunch break, Catherine was actually growing accustomed to the rainforest. She'd started recognizing certain bird calls, and the landscape was undeniably peaceful. But she couldn't help remain nervous about finding An, and wondering how they were going to stop Lawson from getting out of jail. "We walked six hours before discovering An's bird nest yesterday," Catherine recalled, "And we've been hiking about six hours today. So… if we've been heading in the right direction, which you insist we have, shouldn't the plane be around here somewh…"

Steve stopped suddenly, "Did you hear that?"

Catherine stayed right behind him and listened for a moment. She didn't hear anything at first but her brows soon shot upward, "Gunfire?"

He nodded and pointed to his right, "Leave your pack," Steve whispered as he dropped his by the nearest tree. He fished the binoculars out of his bag and motioned to Catherine to stay close as they headed toward the direction they'd heard the gunfire.

Only a few yards off from where they'd left their packs Steve spotted the plane. Catherine leaned against a tree beside him, both of them canvasing the area.

"One guy at the back of the plane," Steve pointed out, "One around the other side…"

"And another at the top of the stairs," she added. More muffled gunfire sounded and Catherine's stomach flopped, "They're destroying the inside of the plane," she realized, "Probably all the electrical systems, anything with a power source left that could help us."

Steve knew she was right. He held the binoculars to his eyes for a closer look, "They must have a vehicle around here somewhere, how else would they have gotten here? If we can find it maybe we can just drive out of…" he trailed off, spotting something east of the plane, "Damn," Steve swore, knowing he shouldn't have though it would be so easy.

She took the binoculars from him and followed the point of his right index finger as he guided her toward what he'd discovered, "They parachuted in," Catherine realized as she noticed the chutes had been re-packed and stacked neatly several yards away from the plane.

"They probably took on this mission knowing it was one-way," he guessed, understanding that sort of dedicated mentality even though it was against him at the moment, "Or they have an escape plan. Either way, if we want to salvage what's in the plane we're gonna have to fight these guys," Steve concluded. "We have three outside, but I counted seven parachutes."

"Four men inside the plane," Catherine agreed. "Two against seven, not the best odds we've ever been up against. But not the worst," she shrugged as if to say, what the hell.

There was no backing down now.

They inched away from the cover of their tree and Catherine followed him around to the back of the plane. Steve made a quick hand gesture for her to veer off and grab the guy along the side while he took on the one at the back. She waited for his signal, wanting to time it perfectly so they'd avoid one guy seeing the other in trouble and calling for help. Catherine kicked her guy in the knees from behind, sending him to the ground instantly. She grabbed his fallen pistol and conked him over the head with it before he knew what had hit him.

Catherine turned to see Steve towering over his guy. She noticed the knife in Steve's hand and could see the unconscious man's shoulder was bleeding.

Neither of them had made a peep.

The guy on the stairs called out, but they didn't understand what he was saying, most likely speaking in Brazilian Portuguese. His voice didn't seem alarmed at all, probably just asking the men to report in. "We need to finish this, now," Steve whispered as they ducked beneath the plane and hid behind the stairs. He knew the guard would come looking for his buddies eventually, but by then he'd probably bring along another man for cover and they weren't going to wait for that.

They needed the element of surprise on their side.

"Cath," Steve turned to Catherine, seeing she was on full alert with her acquired weapon at the ready. He'd just been about to ask if she was ready, but he knew better. And there was no time for I love you. They didn't need to say it. They already knew it. And baby Evan was always in their hearts, but not in their thoughts right now. Their only focus at the moment was on survival. Steve held his hand up and counted down with his fingers.

On the count of five they exchange the briefest nod, understanding one another without words.

She went around to the left of the stairs and Steve veered right.

They knew taking out the guy on the stairs would alert the others inside, but it was a risk they had to take.

Steve revealed himself first and fired. The man on the stairs spotted him, ducked, and the shot went wide. It ricocheted off the plane's hull. Catherine used the distraction to get closer and aim. She fired and plugged the stair guy in the shoulder. But it wasn't enough to stop him from barreling down the steps and firing wildly in all directions, "Cath, fall back!" Steve broke silence, fearful as the man turned toward her side. Steve fired again and caught the guy in the chest. He went down hard.

But there was already another armed man making his way down at the same time. He raised his weapon and took aim at Catherine.

Her back was to him as she retreated. She didn't see the man, but Steve did. He fired and hit the metal stairs.

The gunman fired back from a better and higher vantage point. Steve knew exactly where he was aiming again, the one he believed to be weaker, the woman. "Catherine!" Steve turned to her, letting his weapon fall to his side, dropping his guard in favor of warning his wife, "Get down," he barely had a second to grab her by the waist and push her out of the bullet's path. And in doing so stepped into the path his self.

His only hope as he felt the searing pain of a gunshot wound rip into him was that at least one of them might make it home to their son.

---

To be continued…