Disclaimer: Everything in the Twilight universe belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

AN: As always, I've got to thank edward-bella-harry-ginny for her corrections, words, and support.

Thanks also to all you readers/reviewers/favorite-ers/alerters! I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

"We have a mission, we leave immediately. Briefing on the plane." Col. McCarty looked over the room, and I thought I saw him nod slightly toward Edward. The two of them exited the gym together.

I was standing in shock, as the rest of the team hurried out of the gym, leaving the equipment where it lay. At the door, Major Heinz swiveled. "That includes you, Major Swan. Pack a bag ASAP. Transport leaves in fifteen."

Ch. 6. Restrictions

I led Edward out of the gym and headed toward his "suite."

How do you want to deal with Major Swan for the mission? I knew he already had every detail in my possession committed to that computer bank he called a brain.

"I won't feel comfortable unless I can keep an eye on her. I can't hear her at all; there's no way to know what she's done. She could compromise the mission." It was still eerie to walk with him, not see his lips move, but hear his voice come through our non-standard headset.

So you want her on the mission? I was a little surprised.

"I don't want her out of my sight. I don't trust her. She's already gotten Frankie and Shannon trusting her, and Rodney's not far behind. I think she's using that psychology background to put everyone at ease, and it's working for her."

I can put her with Heinz at the base.

"No. I won't be able to read him from where we are. I told you; I want her in my sight at all times."

That brings up another issue.

"Dammit! Not again." I saw his hand fist.

You know I would violate orders for this, but Heinz is always watching. He knows protocol as well as I do, and he's a straight shooter. I don't have time to stay with you for the whole trip. The rest of us need sleep, occasionally.

The loud, vibrating drone of the plane engines combined with the constant rush of cold air on the huge cargo plane. We were all dressed in multiple layers and riding in extreme discomfort given the lack of amenities. Apparently, Col. McCarty had decided that keeping our travel secret involved keeping our travel unpleasant. Mitch, Major Heinz, and Shannon were in the cockpit. The usual pilots for this supply run were not authorized to know about our presence.

The cargo space was jammed with all manner of boxes and crates, and seven humans – the entire team aside from those in the cockpit and Edward. I wondered where he was; I hadn't seen him since Col. McCarty had broken up the sparring session to give us our orders. No one else seemed concerned about it, so I didn't ask about his absence.

"Now that we're underway, I'll begin the briefing." Col. McCarty's voice came through my headset as he paced in the narrow space between our knees. I sat between Frankie and Rodney, and the rest of the K's – Brock, Jack, and Rick – sat across from us. "At 1330, I received word that a soldier had been abducted off the streets of Kabul. He was off-duty, and there are conflicting stories about why he would be alone."

"Why would this concern us," asked Brock. "One soldier kidnapped in Afghanistan isn't enough to send us off at a moment's notice. There are other soldiers who have been missing for months."

"I was getting to that. We have approximately twenty hours after we land before CSTC-A is forced to go to the media. The soldier kidnapped is the son of Senator Trace from Maine."

We were all stunned, apparently, since no one spoke for a moment. "They'll torture him to death if they find out," Frankie said, her voice nearly inaudible over the static. From the way she spoke, I had a feeling there was something more behind the comment. I looked around at the others, and I could see concern on their faces.

"What's the plan?" asked Rodney, sounding more businesslike than usual.

"You're going to work together on this one; you're going in as a medical team. I've got an ambulance and two humvees waiting for us. Edward and Major Swan will be in the ambulance, and the rest of you split between the humvees as escort. Tactical on the streets is under Edward's direction. Command decisions come from Major Heinz. I'll be meeting with CSTC-A, but Heinz will keep me in the loop."

"Any intel about where he's been taken or by whom?" This question came from Jack, but Rick was nodding as if he'd had the same question. I had noticed Rick rarely spoke if he could avoid it.

"Nothing as of the last transmission. I expect we'll have an update once we're on the ground. Time will be short when we hit the ground, so I suggest everyone try to get some rest." Col. McCarty swept his eyes across the group, and then went up to the cockpit.

I listened to the others discussing the situation in Kabul; apparently, they'd been there recently, but of course they didn't mention any details of the previous mission. It had been nearly five years since my one tour in Afghanistan; I wondered if I would recognize anything. Civil war and foreign occupation didn't usually lead to stability. The colonel's words started to sink in, and I realized I'd be stuck in an ambulance with Edward for an unknown period of time. That meant he was somewhere on the plane, even though he hadn't boarded with the rest of us. I wondered what the rationale was for putting me on the ground with the rest of the combat-ready crew. The tension started to get to me, and I had a brief bout of nerves which included a little nausea.

I flipped up the microphone attached to my headset and tapped Frankie. "Where's the restrooms?" I couldn't whisper over the background noise, but at least I didn't have to broadcast my question to the entire team.

She pointed to a door in the opposite direction as the cockpit, and I headed back. The door led to a dark, narrow hallway, and I stumbled my way through and found myself in another, smaller cargo area at the back of the plane. Where I found Edward.

He was glaring at me from a chair only two steps away from the hallway. He was dressed the same as the rest of us, but had a blanket thrown over his lap. He was wearing a headset like mine, not his usual low-profile device. His jaw was tense and his brow was lowered, but somehow he still exuded an aura of coiled power draped in ethereal beauty. I knew I was staring, and I managed to snap myself out of it.

"I'm sorry, I was looking for the restrooms."

"They're behind you," he replied, not attempting to mask his hostility.

That would have been the end of our discussion, had the plane not hit a pocket of turbulence. I was thrown hard at Edward, and I landed on one knee on the metal floor, hitting my head hard enough on the metal arm of his chair to see stars. I sat stunned for a second and groaned. I had hoped clumsy Bella would never make another appearance, but here she was. I groaned again, this time partly from embarrassment.

"Ow." I touched my hand to my head, my eyes still squeezed shut from the pain.

"Are you bleeding anywhere?" The angry voice broke me out of my haze, and I opened my eyes.

"Oh, crap," I practically screamed. I had ended up on my knees with my face buried in Edward's lap. I scooted backwards quickly and sat on the metal floor as I was still uncertain of my balance.

"I am so sorry," I said again. "And no, I'm not bleeding. I am mortified, though. Thanks for catching me."

"I didn't exactly –" Edward paused, listening. "Yes, Colonel, she's back here….No, she's fine….What? Now? Fine." Edward's brow wrinkled, and he shut his eyes tightly. When he opened them, I was caught once again by how they nearly glowed. His lips were in a tight line before he let out a breath. "Col. McCarty says you should have your first session with me."

"Now?" I realized I had echoed his words to Col. McCarty. Apparently, neither one of us felt ready for this.

"Yes. Could you flip up this microphone?" He angled his chin toward me, and something in me thrilled at putting my hands so close to his face. At the same time, I wondered that he didn't flip up the mike himself. I shifted closer to him, and in an uncharacteristically bold move, I pulled the blanket off his lap.

He was shackled, wrists handcuffed to thicker-than-normal chains that attached to ankle restraints. There were at least two of the heavy-duty sets from what I could see, and I looked up at his face in shock and horror. For the first time, his demeanor was less than confident; I wasn't sure what I saw in his face, but I thought it was shame. I placed the blanket back on his lap, and cautiously flipped up his mike, staying very careful not to touch his face or his hair. Somehow, the gesture felt intimate as I leaned across his lap. I knew my eyes were still wide from surprise.

"I'm very sorry, Edward." I wasn't sure what I was apologizing for; part was for violating his privacy, part was for the circumstances that had brought him to this point in his young life. "Why?"

"Is this the beginning of our session?" he asked, his tones clipped. His mask was back in place.

"Yes."

"Due to his volatility and value, the asset will, in the future, be confined to the facility or restrained when not on a mission or under the direct supervision of a commanding officer." Edward was clearly quoting from a memo. I recalled the grace he exhibited even in walking, the way his presence dominated a room, and it felt wrong, so wrong, to see him trapped like this.

"What prompted that decision?" I asked.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the side of the plane. "It was about four years ago. A mission didn't go the way our superiors wanted."

"Col. McCarty said you have 100% mission success."

"That's true. The mission was successful; it simply didn't go the way they wanted. There was information needed, and they would have been very happy if I had to kill to get what we needed, but it was easy to find the information. There was no order to kill, and I didn't feel it was necessary." His smooth voice betrayed no emotion.

"You think they were hoping you'd kill without an order, so they could have someone assassinated without even a secret order to do so?"

"Yes. I know that's what they wanted, but I won't kill without a reason. I've done enough killing for our country." I wanted to ask how many, but I didn't think he was ready for that. I wasn't sure if I was ready to know.

"What made you decide to join?"

"The army or the team?" he asked.

"We can start with the army."

He looked at me quizzically. "What made you decide to join?"

"Tit for tat, Edward? That's not the way this works." Even as I said that, I knew that I would do whatever I needed to get him to open up. I watched him as he sat silently, watching me. A ghost of a smile crossed his lips, so quickly I thought I might have imagined it.

"Fine then." I thought quickly: short version or long version? Definitely the short version. "When I was nearly sixteen, my father realized that he would never be able to afford college for me. My mother has less than no money; it's a wonder she didn't have her electricity cut off every month instead of once or twice a year. My dad, Charlie, was working as the police chief in a miniscule town in Washington state, and he decided that my best shot for college was ROTC. He started me training –"

"You lived with your father?" interrupted Edward. He actually appeared interested in this story.

"Yes, my mother remarried when I was fourteen, and I realized that she and Phil needed some time alone. I went to live with my father starting in my sophomore year of high school." I waited to see if he had another question, but he stayed silent. "So, as I was saying, Charlie made me start running every day, and we went to the shooting range together twice a week. It was really nice having something we could work for together. He took me to my physical, and I got into UW Seattle with an ROTC scholarship." If only I had known his real reasons for getting me in the army, I would have done things so differently.

"You said your father was working as the police chief. What happened to him?"

"He died about a month after I graduated from college," I replied. Usually, that was enough to end the questioning, and this time was no different. I was never able to keep the sadness out of my voice. The grief over Charlie's death was always fresh. "Your turn."

"I was idealistic," he said slowly. "Patriotism was part of it, the glory of serving my country, the desire to be part of something bigger than I was."

Edward's words sounded flat to me; they were abstract reasons. Most young people who joined the armed forces could have said the same thing. In fact, Charlie would never have gotten me into ROTC if I hadn't felt the very same things. He was choosing not to give me the actual story.

"Were you very young?" I asked.

"I was young, yes, but not so young that I didn't know what I was doing." His face betrayed no emotion.

"What did your parents think?" This was a "fishing" question; I knew nothing of Edward's background; there were no files to read.

Edward was silent, looking at the floor. He seemed younger somehow, thinking about his parents. "They don't know."

"They didn't know when you joined, or they still don't know?" I was surprised. Edward was isolated from society, "confined to the facility" by some order. His separation from the rest of the team was partly by choice, I suspected, but partly a result of his superhuman abilities. To find that he was cut off from his family was disturbing. Did he have no one in his life?

"I left my parents very angry," he began. He was measuring words. "My father and I had a…philosophical difference. By the time I realized he was right, it was too late to go back, and the army seemed like a good idea at the time – it was something I had wanted for a long time. I know they wouldn't understand, so I haven't contacted them."

"Do they know about your…abilities?" I asked. I wasn't sure if it was something he would discuss or not.

"They don't know anything about my time with the army," he answered. I noted that he had not definitively answered my question, just as Col. McCarty had been evasive in explaining the source of Edward's abilities.

"I think our half hour is up, Edward." He raised one brow at me. "And I came back here for a very different reason." He nodded curtly at me, and turned slightly away, revealing his patrician profile.

I found the restroom immediately when I slipped back into the short hallway; it was almost impossible to miss. Edward probably thought I had been looking for him, and I blushed in delayed embarrassment. I closed the door to the restroom and locked it, checking the security. I made sure the microphone on my headset was off, and then I dropped my professional mask and allowed myself to feel. I had never been able to recount my life with Charlie or his death without losing control of everything; I was glad I had been able to hold it together until I could cry in private. I had grief, I had shame, and I had guilt over his loss. The noise level on the plane was high enough that I knew I could let loose, and I did, letting loud sobs shake my body. I wondered, as I always did, if Charlie would have been proud of how I had lived out my life. I took the time as I calmed to splash cold water on my face and blow my nose, and I mentally closed and locked the box with Charlie's memory inside.

When I stepped back out into the hallway, I thought I heard my name called. I walked to the back of the plane again, and found Edward watching me with an inscrutable expression.

"Did you call me?"

"Yes, I – I wanted to see if you had questions about the mission." I had the distinct impression he was going to say something else altogether.

"Are you briefed already?" I asked.

A smile flitted across his face. "Yes, I have a headset, too."

"Oh, right. Actually, I was wondering if you knew why Col. McCarty put me into the ambulance with you. I'm not exactly helpful in the way that you are." To say the very least. I supposed if they needed one of the kidnappers to be tripped over, I was their candidate.

"You've had medic training, and I can keep my eye on you."

"Your eye on me?" My voice went up about an octave at the end of my question.

"Protect you, keep you out of trouble, keep your nose clean," he began.

"Okay, I get the idea." I scowled at him. "I could just stay at the base with Heinz and company."

"It may not be safe there, either." His eyes were boring into me again, and his intensity was pulling me in. I shivered.

"Are you cold?" he asked politely.

I realized I was getting cold; the drafty plane was beginning to get to me. I nodded at him.

"Take the blanket. I don't need it." He pushed at it with his hands, his range severely limited by the chains.

"Do you mind if I sit back here?" I asked.

He shrugged, and I took the blanket from him and leaned against the wall by the hall door. I was worried about crossing lines, and not just with Edward. It didn't make sense for me to be on the team while I evaluated them. Was I on the mission to evaluate their performance as well? I couldn't think of any good reasons for me to be out in the field with them. I could probably hear the same amount of information from wherever Heinz and Shannon set up their mission HQ. I was going to end up developing other relationships with the team besides one as a consulting psychologist. I was going to have to discuss this with Col. McCarty, but it would have to wait until we got back.

I was drifting off to an uneasy sleep when I remembered the meeting with Sen. James on Tuesday morning, and I felt a mild panic hit. This was one of the most important meetings of my military career. I was going to miss it, and I wouldn't be able to tell anyone why. I hoped Col. McCarty could provide some sort of excuse for me, and in my dream-like state, I imagined a meeting with him where I asked permission to fly home early to fulfill my obligations. Col. Brown was going to fire me for sure. This dream continued to a familiar one where I was with the medic team from my tour in Afghanistan. I carried my M16 uneasily, there was fog and smoke surrounding us, and I knew someone beyond my visibility was watching. I heard a burst of gunfire, and the driver Pvt. Grace screamed, one arm coming off the wheel to grab his chest. Out of the smoke, a tall figure approached, and I raised my weapon. This time, instead of firing, I hesitated as I began to make out Edward's face. Relief filled me as I realized I was safe. I heard more gunfire, and instantaneously Edward was at my side. Somehow, I knew he had stepped in front of the bullets.

I woke, a horrible crick in my neck from where I had slumped against a crate. I massaged my neck, and jumped when I realized Edward was watching me.

"Are you faster than a speeding bullet?" I asked, my dream still fresh.

Edward made a choking noise. "Bullets can break the sound barrier, Major Swan. We'll be landing at Bagram in about a half-hour. You should rejoin the rest of the team."

I stood, stretched, and replaced his blanket while maintaining as much distance as I could. Before leaving him, I turned and impulsively asked him one more question. "What's the real reason you joined?"

Edward's golden eyes blazed as he looked into mine. He seemed to be looking for something in me that was just out of his sight, and I was lost for a moment or two. I decided he wasn't going to answer, and I turned away to leave, pulling away from his magnetic gaze.

As I entered the hallway, I thought I heard his voice murmur one word.

"Penance."

AN2: I thought I would get well into the mission on this one, but once I passed 3500 words, I figured I better save that for the next chapter.

If you're an AoA reader, I have been working on the next chapter(s). Unfortunately, I've written parts of the beginning, middle, and end but not the connecting pieces. I'll get there eventually.

So…is he faster than a speeding bullet? Some of you have asked for answers, but, hey, I'd rather hear your theories. ;)