CHAPTER 8

"I knew it wasn't regular back pain!" Mike said as he hurried about the room, packing a bag for them both while they waited for the helicopter to arrive. Max had outright refused to give birth at home and although her water had just broken, it was more than likely that the baby wouldn't arrive for another few hours at least. They had time but apparently, it had yet to register with Mike who was panicking enough for the three of them.

"Mike, sit down! You're making me nauseous." Max sighs, one hand behind her on the bed to keep her upright and the other on her lower belly. The pain that had manifested early in the morning as a dull ache, had grown more frequent and painful throughout the day. Initially, she just thought it was the baby moving around a lot but in all the time she was able to feel him, it hadn't felt quite like this.

"It's contractions. I knew it was as soon as you told me where it hurt." Mike adds, zipping up the bag and grabbing the phone from the bedside cabinet.

Max rolls her eyes. He spends two days practicing how and where to cut the cord and he fancies himself a birthing expert. "Sure, Doctor Weston." She jests through the pain, "Who are you calling?"

"I'm texting Ryan."

They could do that? "We can do that?" She asks confused. They hadn't once contacted anyone for the entirety of their stay there. Max simply assumed it was forbidden. He had made a fuss about restricting their internet usage for fear of being hacked and discovered by Mark. "Do you honestly think he's smart enough to bypass my blockers?" She scoffed one morning Mike had slammed the laptop lid down.

Of course he wasn't, but that didn't mean his endless resources couldn't. He inherited billions of dollars from the death of his mother – he could easily hire himself some expert hacker to do the deed for him. Despite her unmatched tech-savvy, Max was inclined to agree that even she was no match for the genius boy-wonder who spent the better part of his adolescence hacking into top secret organisations just for the fun of it.

And if the internet server wasn't safe, what was to be said about landlines and cellular signals?

"No, but before we left New York, I told him how you wanted him and Jenny to be there." He explains, sitting down next to her. "They've been staying in town for the past week. I didn't tell you because I knew you'd want to call them, but this was the only time we were permitted to use the phone." That made sense.

"They have?" She asked softly, surprised that her Aunt and Uncle had dropped everything, including their differences, to standby and wait for their beloved Niece to go into labour so they could be there for her.

Mike nodded, rubbing her back gently. "Of course. They'd do anything for you, Max." As she'd do anything for them. Family was the most important thing to Max. At the end of the day, it's all one has and it's the only thing, she believed, one could trust to endure. Of course, they'd be there - Jenny had been the one to offer upon hearing the news and as for Ryan, well… when Mike had asked, he didn't think twice about his answer.

…

Two and a half months earlier…

Ryan had told Agent Clarke that he would take Max and Mike to the airstrip to board the plane out of the city. However, he started to regret it once he saw the look on his Niece's face when she stepped out of the car.

Excluding the time she followed Giselle to Connecticut, and again when she visited Mike's family in Virginia, Max hadn't been out of New York State for longer than a week since she was born. If that wasn't telling enough, the woeful expression on her features said plenty.

"Come on, Max. We have to do this." Mike encourages in response to the sigh she made certain everyone could hear. If she didn't slap him, Ryan would.

She turns to glare at him. "Did I say anything?" She snaps, huffing and storming off toward the plane. Ryan laughed lightly. That'll do.

"Max!" Mike yells across the airstrip. She hadn't said goodbye to her Uncle.

Without turning, she flipped him off. And he knew that, with her heightened emotions and the less-than-ideal circumstances, she only half meant it.

"I'll talk to her." Ryan assured the younger man who was also having a tough go of it. "It'll be alright, Mike. We'll find him." He pats Mike's shoulder. "Preferably before Max reaches full term."

"Yeah, about that…" Mike starts. "Max really wants you and Jenny to be there. And I know it'll be difficult but..."

"We'll be there." Ryan interrupts before Mike could finish. Though, given his answer, there was not much point in hearing.

"Are you sure?" Mike asks. It would be risky. Mark is sure to be watching Ryan once Max disappears and it'd be the perfect opportunity to lead him to her. But if anyone knew how to lose a tail, it was Ryan Hardy.

Ryan nods. "For Max? Of course." And that was plenty explanation for Mike. After all, he too could never deny her anything.

…

Present day

Aware they had time left to kill until the air ambulance landed, Mike got Max into a warm bath as per the midwife's advice. She claimed the heat and pressure of the water would help with early contractions and so far, it seemed to be working. "How're you feeling?" Mike asked as he knelt by the tub, his forearms resting on the rim.

"Better." Max breathed, letting the scented vapour fill her lungs; soothing her senses. She stared down at the globe protruding above the surface of the water and she thought, for the first time since she realised she was pregnant, how she was going to miss it. No, she wouldn't miss the graceless waddling, or the constant heartburn; or even those nights when she'd wake up in the wee hours, craving some strange concoction of food – Mike especially wouldn't miss those nights. No, she'd miss having her child inside of her – safe in the shelter of his mother's womb – safe and oblivious to the world that awaits him.

Max knew she worried far more than she ought to, both Ryan and Mike made a point to remind her each time she did. But she couldn't imagine she was wrong in this. Like any mother, she'd want to protect her child from anything and everything, but most children's parents don't have prices on their heads. And she hated that, should Mark continue to elude them, their child too would remain a target for the Gray family vengeance. And quite frankly, it's not a life she could be happy living.

"Henry…" Mike offers absently into the silence, his fingers trailing through the water.

"What?" Max asks, wondering why Mike had suddenly mentioned her father's name.

His gaze meets the confusion in her eyes and he takes her hand in both of his, bringing it to his lips. "I think we should name him Henry." He kisses her knuckles, toying with her wedding ring as he waits for her reply. The idea had been circling his mind for the past few months and he hadn't mentioned it before because they agreed not to think so prematurely. Despite the constant peril they were stuck in, Max had scared herself nauseous one day as she read up on the statistics of miscarriage. She believed, if he was taken from them by natural causes, having named him prior to the loss might somehow make the pain all that more significant. Though of course, it couldn't be true but, not one to pray for tragedy, Max wouldn't risk it.

And although the baby had yet to be born and the risk was higher than ever, she couldn't help but smile warmly at the sentiment. "I love you." She told Mike, her eyes bright and shining with the love she felt.

Before Mike could reach over to kiss her, her grip on his hand tightened suddenly – her knuckles white with the pain of another contraction.

"Remember your breathing." Mike urged, placing his free, uncrushed hand on top of hers.

"Oh! Ow!" She hissed while her face contorted into a grimace.

His free hand moved to stroke her belly. "Are you sure we have time to get to the hospital?" he asked.

"Yes!" Max replied, her eyes gradually opening as the pain subsided. "I'm fine."

Mike regarded his wife with equal measures of relief and scepticism, but decided not to press the issue further. He knew that, while he was fully equipped to deliver the baby himself, he certainly wasn't prepared for it. And since he wasn't currently the one in labour, he decided it was solely Max's choice. If she wanted to give birth in the safety of the hospital, then that's what she'd get.

"I better get out now. The chopper will be here soon." She added, gingerly sitting up out of the water. Mike grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her while simultaneously helping her up and out of the tub.

Max hated being so damn near incapacitated that she needed help doing the simplest of tasks such as dressing herself. Not that Mike minded helping her. It wasn't often that Max needed him for anything – she was a woman of her own and a prideful one at that. But she also had a husband who would kneel at her behest and when she could admit that she needed him, he was there waiting.

When the air paramedic offered a wheelchair however, she practically shoved it back at him, offended by the very idea that she couldn't walk a hundred yards to the helicopter. "Don't be difficult, babe." Mike said gently, buckling up her seatbelt when another contraction hit.

"Mike, I swear if you say anything else I'll kick your ass out of damn the window!" She winced, gritting her teeth with her eyes flaring. And for the rest of the ride, he only cooed and coaxed her to maintain her breathing. No such threat was executed.

Meanwhile on the hospital's landing strip, Ryan and Jenny waited impatiently for the air ambulance to arrive with the young couple. "Do you think they're alright?" Jenny paced in front of her brother.

"Yeah, though I'm sure Max is calling Mike's manhood's veracity into question." Ryan chuckled at the thought. He knew Max and though cool-headed, when she was in pain, she could be quite intolerant. He'd be surprised if Mike didn't fear for his life at this point in the labour.

"No, I mean… with that Gray boy." She uttered tentatively, not knowing of all the details. Ryan had told her was all that she cared to hear and she had a feeling that it wasn't a lot in regards to the full extent of the situation. She knew only that Mark was after Max and he was killing pregnant women to taunt her and Mike simply in the name of revenge.

However, despite Max's initial concerns, there had been no reports of abductions or murders since they had gone into hiding. Ryan felt cruel to say it but, it would help in the search for him if he abducted at least one more victim. With nothing more to go on other than a motive, they had no hope of finding him. At one point in the investigation, he and Clarke had an agent go undercover as a decoy to lure Mark out. Unfortunately, it was to no avail and the operation went nowhere fast.

"There's agents stationed at every entrance of the maternity ward, and snipers on the roofs outside. He won't get close." He assured her, fully confident that all would be well.

Finally, the chopper landed and no sooner was Mike, Jenny and Ryan ushering Max toward her room. Once she was settled into the hospital bed, dressed in the ceremonial gown and hooked up to heart monitors for both her and the baby, Mike found himself able to relax.

While the nurse worked on Max, Jenny approached Mike. "Driving you crazy, huh?" She asked with a smile.

"Apparently I'm the one driving her crazy," he explained. "She nearly tore my hand off on the way here."

Jenny giggled. "Her Mom was the same. I think she broke Ray's pinkie giving birth to Max." Although Jenny was only nineteen and Ryan was twenty-three at the time, they had been in the hospital that night – supporting their big brother during the birth of his daughter.

…

Approximately twenty-seven years earlier

Twelve hours. It had been twelve hours since Ray had called his siblings, telling them to get to the hospital because their baby niece was about to be born. Twelve hours later and she had yet to make an appearance.

Ryan would've rather been at home sleeping. He was never one for babies and besides, he could see her in the morning. At least then she was likely to be out by then. "Can they hurry it along? I wanna go home." He complained across the waiting room to his younger sister.

"Shut up, Ryan!" Jenny rolls her eyes. "Once you see her little face, you'll forget you ever hated kids."

"Hm… yeah, I doubt it." He replies, slumping down in the chair like a sullen child.

Twenty minutes later and their brother finally appeared with a small bundle of pink in his arms.

Ray beams proudly down at the infant. "Guys, this is Maxine," he introduces them.

Jenny is up and out of her seat quicker than Ryan, hurling towards them. She looks down at the baby, past the soft pink material of her blanket and gasps. She looks up at Ray in shock.

With that, Ryan is suddenly alert and he approaches slowly. "What is it?" He asks, peering over Ray's arm.

The eldest of the siblings wastes no time in getting his brother acquainted with his Niece. "See for yourself." And he gently places her into Ryan's wary arms.

At first, Ryan didn't see what Jenny had. He saw a newborn baby with a tussled head of dark hair and a cute button-nose. Then, she opens her eyes and stares up at her uncle for the first time and he realises.

Those eyes.

Not the clouded deep grey of a newborn, but the bright blue of his mother's. The eyes he hadn't seen in the ten years since her death. The eyes Max had inherited down to the last speck of cerulean.

"She's beautiful." Jenny muses, hugging her eldest brother and staring at the baby in the other's arms.

Ryan hadn't taken his eyes from baby Max, marvelling at the small, delicate creature within his tentative grasp. And he realises that Jenny had been right. "She's perfect." He whispers.

…

Present Day

While Jenny and Mike conversed by the window of the large maternity suite, Ryan sat by his niece, holding her hand and staring at her as if it were for the first time all over again. Ryan regretted a lot of things in his life, but when it came to his family, he mostly regrets not having had a relationship with Max for fifteen years after her father died. He missed seeing her transform from a girl into a woman and what he considered the worst thing about it was, Max didn't have a father-figure in those years a girl so desperately needs one. With his brother gone, it was his job to be her dad, and he hadn't been.

Max broke her gaze from the baby's heart monitor over to her Uncle. "What?" She asks, curious to know what he was thinking.

Ryan shrugs, tearing his eyes away from her scrutiny.

"No, tell me." She insists, squeezing his hand, though more out of pain than insistence.

"I was thinking about your Dad." He begins carefully; it was always a sore subject to mention. "He'd be so proud of you, Max. I wish he could be here for you." His thumb caresses her hand, mindful of the saline drip.

"I miss him." A lump forms in her throat. "I miss home." She admits with a sigh.

Then Ryan's phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out, reading a text from Clarke. "Yeah…" he replies absentmindedly, forgetting what Max had said.

"How's it going, by the way? Has the case gone anywhere?" she asks in hope.

At the mention of the investigation, Ryan's eyes dart up to meet hers again. "Don't think about that right now." He encourages, leaning over to kiss her forehead. "Listen, I gotta go..." he says as he starts toward the exit.

Max tries to sit up, alerted by her uncle's abrupt need to leave. "Ryan. What? Ow!" She yelped as another contraction hits her, falling back down against the pillows. Mike and Jenny are by her side in an instant.

"I'll be right back, I promise." Ryan concludes before fleeing out the door.

Despite being in agony and needing a firm hand to break, Max gestures Mike to follow her Uncle and find out just where he thought he needed to be. "Ryan, what's going on?" Mike catches up with him in the corridor.

Ryan kept moving through the hall, ignoring Mike. Annoyed, the younger man grabs his shoulder to stop him. Ryan relents with a sigh. "Two agents have been killed near the rear exit."

Mike's heart drops instantly. "Mark's here?!" The blue in his eyes spark with an anger that only the mention of the Gray family could alight.

Ryan places a firm, reassuring hand on Mike's shoulder, though he was inclined to hold him back. "He won't get close to Max, I promise you." And unlike the promise he made to Max not two minutes ago, it was one he was sure to keep.

"Give me a gun - I'm coming with you." He declares, determined to end this once and for all. If he missed the birth of his child, then so be it – at least Max was safe – that's all he cared about at this point.

Then, as if on cue, an anguished scream pierces the air of the maternity ward. A few choice words follow on his tail, telling them Max was close to having to push. Jenny pokes her head out of the threshold. "Mike, you better get back in here!" she demands.

"You heard her." Ryan instructs. "Get in there and be with your wife. She needs you." And he doesn't give him a chance to argue any longer, running off down the corridor toward the stairwell.

Mike considers following him for a moment but he was right. Max needed him and though she may never voice it, she'd never forgive him for missing the birth of their first born. They had been through so much no couple should have to endure and if they were allowed even the simplest of pleasures, they'd relish it. However, Mark – or Luke - was somewhere in the hospital, making his way toward them. Could he really leave it up to Ryan, Clarke and the other agents to find him?

Another loud cry from Max decided for him. Yes, he would have to and he quickly makes his way back to her.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Mike asks, his face awash with stress and concern, while trying to hide the underlying reason for both. Jenny informs him that Max is fully dilated and will have to start pushing. Apparently, she was reluctant to do so just yet.

"Where's Ryan?" Max exhales, unable to focus on anything – the pain blinding each one of her senses. Mike notices and he moves to sit behind her. She was seated upright on the bed, leaving room enough between her back and headboard. He loops his arms beneath hers and places their conjoined hands atop her knees which the midwife had propped up. Jenny stood by the bed, patting down her Niece's forehead with a damp washcloth. "Keep breathing, honey." She reminds Max.

"Where. Is. Ryan?" Max repeats her previous question through ragged breaths, for not having received an answer the first time.

"He'll be back, don't worry." Mike assures her, placing a kiss behind her ear. "You have to focus now." And she leans back against him, trying as she might to maintain consciousness.

She had wanted an epidural, to relieve the pain, but due to the high-risk in her pregnancy, it was advised not to have one administered. Now, as the pain of contractions started to pale in comparison to the level of pressure, she started to regret the decision to refuse one.

With the midwife's go ahead and Mike's encouragement, Max starts to push, bearing down on the constant waves of agony.

All the while, Ryan meets Clarke and his team on the stairwell who seem strangely lost. "What the hell is going on?" Ryan demanded, finding spatters of blood running down the wall, the owner nowhere to be found.

"HRT are on the opposite wing of the building. They've reported another three casualties – two security guards dead and a nurse wounded." Clarke informs him as they descend the stairs.

"And you can't find the perp?" Ryan inquires, wondering if anyone had seen anything besides those already dead.

"Agent Crawford here got a shot at a guy fitting Mark Gray's description." Clarke mentions the man on his right. "That was his blood back there."

"And where's he now?" Ryan demanded.

"He knocked me out cold before Agent Clarke found me. I don't know where he went." Crawford chimed in.

"We figured he retraced his steps and went back downstairs to find another way in since you never saw anyone on the way down." No, he hadn't. Oddly, not even hospital staff. Something didn't seem right.

They reach the bottom of the stairwell and split up. Ryan, Clarke and Crawford take the first exit they come across. "He won't get far. Agents are stationed at every exit."

"He killed two of those agents, remember?"

Crap!

"Idiots!" Ryan cursed, pushing past the men and out into the back alleyway behind the hospital. He looks left and then right when he hears a thud emanating from the side of a large medical waste bin. He unsheathes his gun from its holster and approaches slowly; stealthy enough not to alert whomever was hiding.

Recalling his early training at Quantico, Ryan shuffles back against the wall before turning to point his weapon at the target. Once he does, he discovers there was no need for the gun at all.

The man, dressed in black and a baseball cap shielding his face, lay dead and limp against the brick wall. The gunshot wound from Agent Crawford had clearly been fatal, but from a closer glance, the space between his thumb and forefinger had been bitten, as if to release a cyanide pill – a tactic used by loyal followers.

Ryan kneels before the body and slowly, slightly hesitantly, lifts the cap off of his head. "It's not Mark." He shuts his eyes in despair. "It's a decoy…" A man dressed to resemble the twins had been but an element of subterfuge to distract the authorities.

Mark had been in the hospital all along.