A/N: sorry it took so long, been lots going on. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 2: The Spy, the Pilot and the Princess

Princess Sarah Windsor peered out into the dark night. Her train had been stopped a few miles outside of Hamburg. Darn it, she had gotten so close. Noises drifting from the forward cars told her a search was in progress and she had only minutes left before being discovered. Glancing into the darkness once again, Sarah was certain it was a trap as well. There had to be troopers hidden among the trees and shadows. It's what she would have done were the roles reversed. So, she sat and waited in silence for the inevitable. Her hopes resting on the shoulders of Morgan Grimsley, family manservant. She replayed their last conversation in her mind.

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"Grimsley, there's no time. We can't allow these plans to be recovered. I fear our escape was not as clean as it appeared." Sarah whispers as she shoves a small satchel into his hands. "You have to get these to our resistance friends as soon as possible."

"Yes, milady, I understand. But, umm, the train, it's moving....awfully fast...." He swallows nervously and watches the landscape speed by. "Surely, there is a better way to deliver the plans? Carrier pigeon maybe."

Eyes darting back and forth between the train car door and surrounding forest. "There is no other way Grimsley, you must leap bravely from the train and make your way bravely to the safe house. Go now my brave, brave servant." She pushes him closer to the edge of the small platform. "I will see that you are rewarded handsomely when all this is over." Pushing harder as he holds tight to the railing.

"I was thinking Princess, we must have made a safe getaway or we would have seen some sign before now." His wide eyes locked on the ground flashing past. "How about I get you a nice cup of tea and we try and enjoy the rest of the trip. Our car awaits in Hamburg and from there a quick drive cross country."

"Oh Grimsley, always thinking of my needs first. Your selflessness shames me, but our duty is clear. I must go back into the train and have that tea by myself. The hopes of all free people now rest in your capable hands. May your feet be swift and sure." Sarah continues her words of encouragement while prying his fingers from the rail.

With a final tug, she pulls his hand free and shoves quickly. Morgan finds himself flying through the air, not nearly long enough. "Oof....ouch....my head....that's going to leave a mark......rock......tree.....I'll feel that in the morning.....fence post....." His tumbling continues a little farther.

Speaking quietly as she watches him shrink into the distance, "Luck be with you dear Grimsley." Turning to reenter the train car. "Now, about that tea."

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Looking down at the empty teacup, she sent wishes of hope out to him. With a crash, the door at the front of the car opened. Black suited soldiers filed in one at a time and moved quickly to surround her. Schooling her features into a calm mask, she waited for the man in charge to show himself. It was not a long wait. His imposing figure barely fit through the door. She sucked in a surprised breath of recognition as her knees trembled just a little. He nodded to her politely.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Princess Windsor. I have heard so much about you. And from your reaction, you must have heard of me as well. Certainly we will be fast friends in no time, as long as you hand over the plans you carry." One black-gloved hand reaching out imperiously.

She ignores his gesture, standing to make eye contact instead. "Everyone has heard of you. Hitler's head of sciences and research. The atrocities you have committed are legendary. It will be my pleasure to see you defeated, Leader."

"It will take much more than a spoiled royal to bring me down. We have watched you for some time now, engaging in your little escapades. The interference was almost an annoyance. This time you have gone too far. I don't care who your parents are, or how many friends you have, you will return those plans to me!" His voice dropping to a menacing growl. "How much you suffer is totally up to you, princess."

"You wouldn't dare. My diplomatic credentials are fully recognized by the Geneva Convention. I suggest you release me now and I will forget about this little folly."

Leader pauses for a moment and she starts to hope.

"Captain!", he barks.

One of the men snaps to attention. "Yes sir, Leader sir!"

"See that our prisoner is escorted back to the castle. Discreetly. And then have your men tear this train apart. Those plans have to be here and I want them back, now!" Turning on his heel, Leader sweeps from the room with a swirl of black cape in his wake.

The captain gestures to two of his men. Sarah starts to protest but a hood is dropped over her head. Next, her hands are bound and she is led from the train. Supported on both sides, she is hustled to a waiting car and unceremoniously shoved into the trunk.

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"The President will see you now, Agent Carmichael."

Unfolding from the chair, Charles Carmichael straightens his impeccably tailored suit and smiles to the secretary. She lightly blushes at the attention. As he walks by the desk, "Maybe I could see you later, my dear?" Her blush deepens.

"Sir, the President is waiting. You really should go in."

Sighing expansively, "Pity. But, duty calls." Walking through the door, he notes the man behind the desk looking especially harried this evening.

"Agent Carmichael take a seat, we haven't much time if you're to make your flight."

"My flight Mr. President?"

"England. You're headed to England. We've recently received word that a member of the Royal Family was taken prisoner. The Queen herself has asked for any aid we can provide. I need your best Carmichael, we need to get her back." Handing over a too slim file for Agent Carmichael to read.

"What makes her so important?" Opening up the file and staring for a moment at the enclosed photograph. "Other than being stunningly attractive." Flipping to a couple of typewritten pages which he quickly scans and commits to memory, "So, she's been using her diplomatic status to aid the rebel factions in France and Germany. It seems odd to have risked kidnapping her now. She's been part of a few minor operations at best."

"Not this time Carmichael. There have been rumors floating around for months of a German breakthrough in weapons technology. Some kind of superweapon is all we know for sure. That and the name of the man behind it, Leader. Princess Windsor was tasked with transporting the plans in an effort to get them out of the country. A number of our deepest moles died in the liberation of those documents."

"Leader, huh. I've been wanting another crack at him. Our last encounter did not end quite to my satisfaction. He lived."

"Yes, yes, I'm well aware of what happened. No vendettas Carmichael, your first priority is to rescue the Princess and recover those plans. Do I make myself clear?"

"Clear as crystal, sir. I won't let you down. If I may ask, why are you sending me to England instead of a direct insertion into Germany?"

"Leader occupies a castle deep in the Bavarian Alps. You'll need help getting that far into Europe. I believe you have an old friend serving with the Royal Air Force as a volunteer."

"Johnny has been working with the RAF? Makes sense, I didn't think he could stay on the sidelines for too long. Although, he might not be so happy to see me. Our last mission did not go completely as planned. He blames me for getting shot."

"Then I suggest you find a way to make it up to him. Major Carson is in possession of a prototype P-51R Mustang. Probably the only aircraft capable of taking you all the way to Leader's castle. The briefing is over, Agent. You have a plane to catch."

Standing to attention, Charles salutes. "Yes sir, Mr. President. We'll get this princess back, and the plans as well. You have my word."

Somewhere over the Atlantic

Carmichael hated flying. Especially on these military transports. He didn't think a team of engineers could purposely design anything more uncomfortable. Sleep was out of the question, so he turned to the file and it's contents. The report was devoid of any real detail, but he skimmed it a few more times. Invariably, he would find himself staring at the photograph. Even though only paper, there was something in her eyes. And her smile was enchanting to say the least.

"Keep your mind on the mission Carmichael. She's just another person to be rescued. You've done this a hundred times before." Charles had always found it calming to talk to himself before a mission. He'd come up with some of his best plans that way. "It's gonna be great to see Johnny again. I'm sure by now he has forgotten all about the incident in Morocco. Yeah, and Hitler likes to wear women's underwear."

He sighs and tries to find a new uncomfortable position to get some relief from his current uncomfortable position. "I hate flying."

RAF base near Southampton

Stepping from the car, Charles shoulders his small duffel as he surveys the flight line. Smiling, he recognizes the bulky figure of Major John Carson standing in front of a dazzlingly-bright, silver Mustang. With a cloth in hand, he appears to be polishing one of the already perfectly spotless wings.

"Wow Major, she sure is shiny."

Continuing his polishing, the major launches into an excited ramble. "Yeah, she's shiny. A turbo-charged Rolls Royce Merlin engine, six20mm cannons in the wings, She can mount belly and wing tanks to fly farther than anything else in the sky, and I even reupholstered the seats with extra padding for those long flights." He turns around and narrows his eyes at what he finds. "Carmichael, what are you doing here?"

"Happy to see you too Johnny boy. Can't a fellow visit an old friend?"

"As long as it doesn't involve me getting shot again."

"You can't still be going on about that, it was barely more than a scratch."

"It was my toe! I would say that's much more than a scratch."

"I said I was sorry. C'mon....buddy...let me make it up to you"

John eyes him warily. "I'm not sure I like that smile you have. Wait a minute, you need my plane don't you? I should have known. That's the only thing that would bring you out here to see me. No way, uh uh. Not risking my baby on one of your missions."

"I wouldn't have come if I didn't need you, Johnny." Charles takes a couple steps closer and lowers his voice. "The Nazi's have Princess Sarah Windsor and we have to get her back. Plus, she was involved in trying to smuggle out plans for some super secret new weapon."

Looking conflicted, "That sounds dangerous and you've already cost me one plane. You remember Annette, my custom P-40 Warhawk? A plane that is now pieces on the bottom of the Mediterranean."

"She's a princess. Rescue her and the Queen would give you ten Warhawks or anything else you could ask for."

"I don't know, I can ask for quite a lot.", looking skeptically at the agent before him.

"She's beautiful." Carmichael holds up her photo.

Major Carson looks at the picture and then glances to the gleaming nose of his Mustang. "So is Patricia and I want to keep it that way."

"If that's your final answer, I'm sorry John. I have orders signed by the President himself to confiscate your plane in service to the USA. I will have to fly myself into Germany." Knowing he has him, Charles keeps the smile off his face.

"What....you can't....that's not fair....", squinting to read the page that was just thrust into his hands. His look of defeat turns to victory. "Wait a minute, you don't know how to fly a plane. You hate to fly."

"Actually, I'm a very good pilot. I simply prefer to keep my feet on the ground. Come on Johnny, for old time's sake. You and me against the Nazi's again." Then Carmichael plays his trump card, "We'll be going after Leader. Remember him? The guy that was responsible for your gunshot wound."

His face darkening, Major Carson growls at the mention of Leader and Charles knows the decision has been made. John signals to a group of maintenance workers before turning back to Carmichael. "Give me 20 minutes to get the extra fuel tanks installed and complete my preflight checks. You might want to visit the bathroom, it's going to be a long flight." Then, Charles forgotten, he turns to the task at hand.

Charles takes the recommendation seriously, he scans the outbuildings until finding a berthing area. He thinks that maybe a couple aspirin might help as well, still feeling a little unsettled from the previous flight. Quickly reaching the barracks, he arrows straight for the restroom facilities. A shower would be even better, but no time for that. Deciding on the aspirin first, he opens the medicine cabinet only to find someone staring back at him.

"Holy crap....", jumping back. With a second look, he recognizes the other man. "Agent Landon? How did you get in there?"

"It wasn't easy." Agent Landon flashes a grin before turning to business. "The President has an update for you. He believes the plans are still at large. The princess was captured, but our intelligence suggests a manhunt is still under way. She was known to be traveling with the family butler, his whereabouts are a mystery. You will need to rescue the princess and with her aid, find those plans. Good luck Agent Carmichael."

"Roger that Agent Landon." Charles closes the door to the cabinet, pauses and then swings it back open. "Bryce, was there any aspirin in there?"

"Uh, yeah, I think there was. Just a moment, Charlie." It takes a few minutes of wiggling around, but soon a bottle is produced. "Here you go. Not looking forward to the flight?"

After popping a couple pills, Carmichael hands the bottle back. "Not really. But, we go where the mission takes us. You have a safe....."

Loud sirens erupt outside, both agents cry out, "Air Raid." Grabbing up his duffel, Agent Carmichael runs for Carson and his airplane. Outside, he can clearly hear the whine of propellers and spares a look at the sky. Swiftly growing larger, a dive bomber hurtles toward the base, others lined up behind him. Carmichael sees two bombs detach as the airplane pulls out of it's dive. Throwing himself to the ground, he covers his head right before a thunderous explosion. He looks back to see the barracks is now a pile of splinters. "Agent Landon!"

A loud yell pulls his eyes back around. Major Carson is waving frantically from the cockpit. Charles pushes himself to his feet and sprints across the field. John releases the brakes and begins to taxi for takeoff as Agent Carmichael closes the distance. Another pair of bombs land in their path, a crater now blocking the runway. Unflappable, John Carson starts to spin Patricia to an alternate path. He won't have the wind to help, but if he doesn't get off the ground, they don't stand a chance.

With the change of course, Charles is able to the close the distance quickly. Clambering onto the wing of a rolling plane is not as easy as it looks. Scrabbling for hand holds, he pulls himself up and into the second seat. He hears the engine rev up to full before even getting the seat belt fastened. John swings the canopy closed and locks it down.

"Hold on tight back there, we'll only get one chance at this." The Mustang leaps forward, rolling more and more swiftly across the grassy field.

His eyes glued forward, Charles asks nervously. "We can clear those trees, right?"

"Of course we can." Then more quietly as he strokes the instrument panel. "Come on Patricia, you can do it." He pulls back on the stick, throttle to the stops. Clawing at the air, she starts to rise. Major Carson stares at the onrushing tree line, too close....too close..., running through his head.

Screwing his eyes shut, Agent Carmichael moans, "I hate flying."

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With a smile, Chuck looks at Sarah and the girls. "And that is all for tonight. Time to get to sleep young ladies."

The twins whine with a loud, "Awwww!"

"No more tonight girls. It's been a big day. You will just have to wait until tomorrow night to find out what happens."

They make more sounds of protest before Sarah steps in to help. "Listen to your father. You don't want to be falling asleep at school tomorrow."

It takes a little more work, but soon the girls are properly tucked in. Good night kisses are shared all around before Chuck and Sarah turn out the light and shut the door. They hold hands and walk towards their bedroom. He catches a look from Sarah. "What?"

"You just had to blow up Bryce didn't you?" Her mouth turned up in a mischievous grin.

"It was a necessary plot point. I had no choice really." Lip trembling as he tries not to laugh. "Hey, I threw Morgan from a moving train so you can't say I was picking on just one person."

That becomes the final straw and they both giggle. Once into the bedroom, Sarah shuts the door before grabbing her husband and pushing him up against the wall. He regards her with a curious expression. She leans in close, pressing against him. "You can tell me, Chuck. Do they make it past the trees?"

Inching closer, Chuck brings his lips to within a hairsbreadth of hers. "Do your worst, I'll never tell."

"Mmmm, I love a challenge."