Author's Chapter Notes:

This is a short part, but like Avoidance, is more linking than stand-alone.

OOO

"You know, I think this time a blindfold ought to suffice," she said nastily, as she exited the interrogation room.

It wasn't particularly identifiable, she noted, it could have been an administration building on any base in the US. There was no real telling exactly where they were beyond the fact she was certain they were at least somewhere near the city. She couldn't have been passed out long enough to go any farther than that.

"Do you really need one?" The Colonel asked, an eyebrow arched.

She shrugged indifferently. "Well, you were the one who was ever so concerned with security earlier." She gave him a sweet smile.

He had not told her much, to her great relief. They knew that they had been given a password, that the system had been opened. Upon their first attempt to copy the system, the entire thing went haywire and deleted itself. She had known as much from Mr. J, though she certainly did not tell him that. She had only listened carefully, looked as though all this information was quite new to her, and vowed to begin working her way toward pumping the information out of him.

"I don't care what you have to do to get him to talk, Lieutenant. We've discovered that torture is obviously not the method of choice… Though… I haven't gotten a hold of him yet…" he laughed softly, and she joined him, keeping that lowered-lash gaze he enjoyed so much pinned to his.

Bastard, she thought.

"I think I might have some methods that you have not yet utilized… Little things I picked up in med school," she gave him a wink, and followed her escort out of the building.

It was a 45 minute drive back into the city. She was amazed she hadn't woken in the vehicle. Chloroform? she wondered, staring at the landscape as it streamed past: farmland, to suburb, to city. She had never been gladder to find her block of apartment buildings looming on the horizon as she was at this moment.

She completely ignored the driver upon exiting the vehicle, giving him a dismissive wave as she exited. She slowed her feet to a walk as she entered the building, watching as her shadow cut swathes through the yellow streetlight, but cut to a sprint as soon as she was out of his sight. She did not bother to wait for the elevator, and instead went straight for the stairs. The exercise did her good, cleared her mind, her heart pounding in her chest as she rounded the last corner, climbed the last flight.

I need to get in touch with Pamela…

She passed the same unfortunate Staff Sergeant in the hallway as she exited the stairwell, (he gave her a dirty look as she passed.) However, she paid little attention to him and instead made her way straight to her apartment. Her front door had been left closed but not locked.

It's half a wonder I didn't get robbed… Bastards… she thought again, and shut the door behind her.

A quick search of the apartment revealed everything to be in its proper place, and it did not look as though anything had been taken. She made her way into the kitchen, pulled the cordless off of the wall, and immediately dialed Pam's number.

"Hello?"

"Pamela, I need—"

What if they've tapped my phone, or bugged the room? They've been in my apartment, unwatched, they could have done anything!

"Harley? Harley, is that you? Harley, talk to me!"

"It's okay, Pammy… it's me. I think its time for that drink we were talking about earlier."

"Wha—"

"You know, when we went out to dinner last time," she said, a tad forcefully, and Pamela got the hint.

"Oh," Pam said after a moment, "Yeah, I remember. The really terrible Chicken Alfredo they gave us?"

"Let's not go there this time, okay?"

"Alright… I'll be over in a little bit…"

"Thanks, Pam," she said meaningfully, and hung up the phone.

She headed to her bedroom, and quickly changed out of the jogging suit she still wore, into a pair of jeans and a nice top, something she might wear when going out, should anyone be watching her movements. The answering machine on her nightstand was blinking. One message, the screen displayed. She sat on the edge of the bed and pressed the button. He'd called less than an hour ago, the machine said.

"Hey, kid, it's Wilhelm. I'm calling you like you said. I found another—" she quickly pressed the delete button.

"Star… 69…" she muttered as she pressed the buttons. The phone rang once, twice…

"Yello?"

"Wilhelm, it's Harleen."

"Hey, kid," he said jovially.

"Are you busy tonight?"

"Unless you count watching House, not really…"

"I need you to meet me somewhere."

"You okay, kid?"

She smiled softly, shook her head though he could not see it. "I'm fine, Wilhelm… Do you have a pen and paper?"

"Yeah… gimme a second… Alright…"

"The address is 3592 West Oak Avenue. Do you know where that is?"

"That's on the outskirts of town, right?"

"Yes," she answered. "Could you meet me there in about an hour?"

"Sure… I got Tivo… Sounds like a plan, kid."

"Thank you, Wilhelm."

OOO

"Open up, you dumb blonde." The front door berated her. It took a moment to undo all the locks (she was feeling just a bit paranoid at the moment) and she quickly raised a finger to her lips as she opened the door. Pamela stared at her strangely, but did not say anything. She grabbed her purse from the living room, exited the apartment, and locked the door behind her. She did not speak until they were well on their way to the elevator.

"What the hell is going on, Harley?" Pam asked, once the doors had closed. "Are you running from the cops again? What in the hell happened to your face?"

"Hopefully we won't have to do that anytime soon, Pam." She shook her head. "Nevermind that… Do you remember the photo albums that I left in your attic?"

"Yeah?"

"On the backs of the photos, there are codes… Mr… I mean… Jack was a chemist for the Army, he worked in Weapons Development before they sent him to Iraq… on the backs of those photos, is all of his work, eight years worth of it. Everything that he's ever created for the US Army is in those pages."

"Holy shit," Pam breathed.

"Yeah," Harley answered. "When he was captured and tortured, it was by his own people, and that's what they were looking for, the information necessary to access those records. He gave them to me for safekeeping, to translate them."

"Jesus Christ, Harley!" Pam yelled as the elevator door slid open, and the front desk stranger gave them a dirty look as they exited. Harley glared right back as they walked past. She grabbed Pam by the arm, and dragged her out of the building.

"I called a friend of mine, Wilhelm Knauer, he's the head of Security at Hines. I gave him copies of the codes, and he's been working on them for me, working to translate them."

"Jesus," Pam said again, "Do you know what in the hell you've gotten yourself involved in? This is some serious shit, you can't mess with the Army like this, you're going to get burned."

Harley shook her head. "I haven't got any choice, Pamela. I have to do this."

She set her jaw as Pam stared at her. The redhead eventually relented, and unlocked the door of her Corvette. Harleen slid inside, and shut the door behind her.

"You're getting me involved in this stuff, I'm gonna wake up one day with a gun in my face, God, I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered as she clipped her seatbelt and shut the door.

Harley smiled softly, listening to her friend grumble. For all of her prickly exterior, she was as soft as butter on the inside. Never had Harleen ever had a more loyal friend than she had in Pamela.

The trip to the outside of town was spent largely in silence, watching the darkened landscape pass outside of her window, with only an occasional mutter from Pamela breaking the quiet.

"Who the hell is that?" Pam asked as she slowed to turn into her driveway. Harleen, however, recognized the truck and the tall, thin form standing beside it.

"Don't worry," she said, shaking her head. "He's a friend."

Pamela came to a stop and Harleen smiled as she exited the car.

"Thank you for coming here, Wilhelm."

"Yeah, kid, sure," he nodded with a smile.

Pamela gave him a distrustful look, watching him carefully as she exited the vehicle.

"Wilhelm, this is Pamela."

"Nice to meet you," Pam muttered but didn't take his hand until Harleen elbowed her in the ribs. They stood in the twilight, one looking to the other, until finally Wilhelm spoke.

"What do you say we take this little party inside?"

OOO

Four hours later, the clock rang had rung midnight and then surpassed it, and Harley was certain that here eyes were going to melt right out of her head. She rubbed them carefully, saw stars before them. Pam slumped backward in her chair, but Wilhelm was still bent dutifully over his sheaves of paper. They had succeeded in translating only half of the pages.

"Jesus," Pam muttered, "I can't take this anymore… letters and numbers, letters and numbers. I translate the damn things, and they still come out making no sense."

"They make perfect sense," Wilhelm answered, shaking his head in disbelief. "I mean, look at this formula right here. This one is an airborne toxin capable of causing heightened levels of euphoria, advanced muscular contractions resembling grand mal seizure, eventually resulting in muscle stiffening akin to rigor mortis all while delivering an acute anti-coagulant effect. Jesus Christ… Anyone who is exposed to this gas… they laugh themselves to death… They die laughing. What kind of mind comes up with stuff like this? This is amazing… People would kill to get their hands on this sort of thing…"

Harleen shook her head for a moment, watching him solemnly.

"They already have, Wilhelm…"