I wanted to thank you all for your wonderful reviews, comments and clicking on that little 'favorite' button. Really makes my day!

Berk stepped forward and pulled Cal to his feet, tightening his grip when the other man faltered.

"Youu realllly want to do thisss mate?" Cal looked over to catch his eye but Berk wouldn't allow it. His face remained stony but there was a definite struggle going on underneath. If he weren't doped he knew he'd be able to see so much more.

"Don't bother Dr. Lightman. Berkley and I are buds. Practically grew up together. Right man?" Finn smiled tauntingly.

The big man didn't respond which made Finn smile even wider.

"I knoww youu havve a problemm with this." Cal's voice was low. "Youu cann put a sstopp to it."

He was pushed down into the wooden chair, his arms wrestled behind him. The zip tie was pulled tightly, instantly biting into his flesh.

Up to this point he'd foolishly expected to somehow get Gillian and himself out of this. Maybe the drugs were finally starting to clear his system because his rational mind was beginning to see the slim likelihood of escape. Fear sank into his bones even as he tried to hide it. There would be no deus ex machina to save the day. They were going to die at the hands of this psychopath and what was even worse, he would probably get away with it. He thought about Emily, pictured her sweet face, holding her for the first time and the pain was crippling. His stomach clenched and rippled violently as sweat beaded on his forehead. Something acrid arose at the back of this throat and he thought he might throw up. Self-loathing immediately followed, knowing that he couldn't currently hide his suffering and that Finn was relishing it.

Gillian made a tiny noise and Cal looked up to see all her fear but also the compassion she held for him as she watched every expression, micro and otherwise cross his face. It only made him feel worse. Because of his arrogance, Gillian and he were going to die.

"I'm going now." Berkley looked at Finn. It wasn't a request but a clear statement. He didn't want to be around for Finn's games.

Cal and Gillian shared a quick glance. He was leaving?

"Hold on. Can you take this for just a second?" He intimated Gillian.

With a sigh, the big man crossed the room, taking her arm, his grip firm. She looked up at him, eyes wide. "Please." She watched as the one word chipped the man's resolve but for only a moment.

"I'm sorry." And he really did sound sorry. It was insane.

"Thanks man." Finn smirked before walking back to Cal so casually that the sudden lash with his right fist startled all of them.

"No!" Gillian's voice was almost a sob.

"There. Think I owed you one doc."

Cal blinked away the white flashes as his left eye and head throbbed painfully. After a moment, he brought his eyes back up. Something clicked inside. The fear was still there but it was being crowded by fury. Much better. He'd rather be angry.

Finn stepped toward the bureau to rummage in his bag. "Okay Berk. I'll catch up with you later."

Gillian felt, rather than heard the sigh as his grip on her eased and released. He moved toward the door and she moved closer to Cal. One hand fell to his shoulder and when he met her gaze she only saw one thing: gut him like a fish. Do what you have to do to take out that son of a bitch.

Her imagination was filling in the words for him but his expression gave clear indication of what he wanted her to do. If she only could. As it was, she couldn't stop trembling, her breath was coming in short gasps and tears kept rimming her eyes.

Cal continued to watch her, intensity in his gaze. She saw him silently form words with his lips. You can do this.

He apparently had a lot more confidence in her than she did at the moment but Gillian gripped the pocketknife a little more tightly, trying to quiet her breathing. Looking closely at Cal again, she could see where his eye was starting to swell shut and at that moment, she began to feel the burn of her own anger as it attempted to push back the fear.

Berkley had stepped into the hallway when Finn called out again. His hand was on the knob as he prepared to pull the door shut behind him.

"One more thing Berk?"

The big man turned back, eyebrows rising in annoyance.

Finn faced him, his expression amiable before shooting him in the chest.

Gillian jumped and Cal flinched as the sharp crack broke the stillness of the house and the woods.

"Sorry man. Nothing personal. Just business."

Berkley barely had time to react. There was a subtle pulling down at the corners of his mouth before he stumbled backward. Small caliber usually meant no exit wound and less outward mess as the bullet ricocheted inside and pulverized the man's heart.

He hit the far wall, turned, before sliding down and was still. His eyes remained open as the last light left.

"Oh my God." Gillian sat on the foot of the bed facing Cal. His face was unsurprised and still full of anger while hers had gone two shades whiter.

"He doesn't really have the belly for this kind of stuff. Kind of weak that way I guess." Finn pulled the door shut with one hand, loosely holding to small pistol with the other.

"Thought gunnss weren'tt yourr style."

"You're right, they're not. Too impersonal. But they do have their uses. Surely you noticed how big that guy is, um, was. He could have twisted my head right off."

"Too badd he didnn't." The contempt had woven tightly into Cal's slurred speech.

"Yeah. Too bad for you." He moved to the side toward his bag, careful to keep an eye on Gillian. "Now… do you want to see my tools?" Finn beamed like a kid on Christmas morning as he reached into the knapsack.

(BREAK)

Gregory guided his old Suburu onto the half-mile of gravel road leading to the cabin. His bowels had long since turned to ice, but he'd accepted it along with thoughts of what might happen to him tonight. Except for the ice cube quality of his lower intestines, he felt a lot calmer.

It was possible, hell, probable, that he was going to lose his life tonight but looking back and looking forward, it might be for the best. Not that he wanted to die. Hell no. But he didn't exactly contribute much to anything other than being good with weapons and being someone else's hired goon. He wasn't particularly smart but he wasn't a complete dumbass either. Besides, if he were going to be totally honest with himself (which was actually pretty damned rare), it all came down to her. Sure, he was sorry about Lightman but it was Dr. Foster's face that kept floating behind his eyes whether they were open or closed. The thought of her at the mercy of Finn had been steady wash of acid against his insides and he just couldn't tolerate it any longer. Not that he ever would think that he'd have a chance with a woman like that (even if she wasn't already in love with someone else). She was like a fine painting to admire from behind velour ropes, beautiful to behold but no touching. He supposed he just didn't want that sick bastard to fuck with the art.

He pulled the car into a small clearing at the side of the gravel road, not wanting to alert Finn and Berk by blatantly pulling up in front of the cabin. From here, it was time to hike.

Quickly jumping out, he rounded to the back of the Suburu to get his weapons. He put the rifle together in just under a minute and stuffed his 9 mm in the front of his pants. Slamming the trunk shut, he headed through the trees.

(BREAK)

Finnley Senior pulled Ben Reynolds card from his wallet, hesitated for only a moment before pushing his lips together in a resigned determination. Shaking, his fingers almost hit the wrong number several times before he finally placed the call.

The FBI agent answered on the third ring. "Reynolds." The voice was curt but still held its professional edge.

"This in Finnley Bainbridge Senior and I have some information that…"he stopped, his throat closing briefly.

"Sir?" Ben frowned but his heart started to accelerate. "What kind of information?"

"About Lightman and his partner." His normally confident voice had shrunken to almost a whimper.

"Do you know where they are?" Reynolds started to rise from his desk.

Bainbridge took a breath, the ache inside beginning to fester, knowing that it wasn't just his son that would be taking a fall tonight. "Yes sir, I do. I'm hoping it's not too late."

So, anyone tense? ;-)