Miles was at his wit's end. He could handle raiders, gangs, even military occupations didn't phase him, but their current situation extended way beyond all of that. People spontaneously catching fire, nanotech that drained electricity from the world, and a mad scientist hell-bent on destruction were not subjects covered in his Marine Corps training and frankly, he was getting sick of dealing with all of it.

These were the thoughts running through Miles' head as he followed Charlie and Rachel through the fog as they tried to track Aaron in the dense forest. He couldn't help wondering what had happened to Bass if Aaron had been captured. Considering the good chunk of time that had passed between when he saw Aaron and Cynthia first embark through the tunnel to meet up with Bass and when he observed Aaron being marched into a Patriot HQ, he concluded that Bass had been successful in the rendezvous and shit must have hit the fan later.

"Damn, I lost the trail," Charlie whispered, rousing Miles from his increasingly pessimistic ponderings.

"Alright, well...find it," Miles ordered impatiently. He didn't want to stay out here in these admittedly creepy woods any longer than he had to.

"You know what, Miles? If you could do a better job, please, go for it," Charlie stated with an edge in her voice. She didn't mean to get snappish but what the hell did her uncle think she was trying to do? The fog was as thick as pea soup, as her grandfather would say, and visibility was zilch. She led them on slowly, eyes carefully scanning the ground in front of her, straining to pick up any sign that Aaron had been through there.

Dead leaves crackled directly to their front and they all stopped, tensing as three figures materialized out of the mist. The faint beige of the uniforms contrasting with the light gray of the surrounding fog tipped Charlie off to the affiliation of the figures a split-second before they could identify her group. In a flash, she unsheathed her knife and, with an expert flick of her wrist, sent the blade burrowing deep into a Patriot's chest.

Miles quickly took down a second Patriot with his machete while Charlie finished off the first. Rachel, on the other hand, was helplessly grappling with the third Patriot. Miles lunged over to bury his machete blade behind the ribs of Rachel's assailant but the man had managed to squeeze the trigger of his upturned rifle, the resounding crack alerting several groups of Patriots to the ensuing skirmish.

Miles grabbed a rifle and took off through the woods, Rachel and Charlie hot on his heels. Unfortunately, they had only gone a few steps when movement ahead forced them to halt.

Two Patriots stalked toward them, rifles raised, cutting them off. "Stop right there!" the older one commanded firmly as the younger one shouted, "Freeze!"

Miles let his rifle fall to his side, clenching his jaw in frustration. Sure, there were only two Patriots but not only were they staying well out of striking distance, they had reinforcements all over the damn forest.

~~MM~~MM~~MM~~MM~~

Bass had been creeping through the trees, carefully avoiding the groups of Patriots when angry shouts from his right caught his attention. Considering he and Miles seemed to be the only ones that could elicit that sort of response from these guys, Bass felt a little more hopeful as he moved to get a better look.

Yep, there was Miles looking completely pissed with Charlie and Rachel standing with their arms raised behind him. The shouts must have been from the two Patriots holding them at gunpoint. Bass sneered; they made it so easy for him. One fluid sprint brought him directly behind the first asshole who quickly had his throat slit. The second spun around but Bass blocked his rifle, neatly sidestepped, and sliced his machete right below the man's chin. The Patriots now dead at his feet, he glanced up at his companions, all three of whom were just staring at him. He met Miles' gaze as a small smirk crept across his face, "I'm Batman."

Miles rolled his eyes as the barest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. Bass was the embodiment of the phrase "Same shit, different day." Back when they were deployed in Afghanistan, Bass was always the one cracking stupid jokes even while their unit was under heavy fire. Apparently, some things never changed.

"C'mon," Bass ordered, glancing around cautiously, "Let's go!" He broke into a run, everybody else falling in behind him.

~~MM~~MM~~MM~~MM~~

They didn't stop running until they came to an abandoned, falling apart barn at the edge of the forest. Desperately needing to regroup and formulate a plan, they ducked into the storm cellar. Once they were all inside, Bass securely fastened the doors shut.

Charlie and Rachel walked into the adjoining room to sit and rest but Miles stayed right inside the door, watching Bass. The relief that he was still alive had quickly morphed into annoyance that their whole plan had fallen apart, "What the hell happened, Bass?"

Bass turned toward him, frowning, "Keep your voice down. They're right outside." Ignoring the death glare from Miles, he started to walk by but Miles blocked him.

"You were supposed to be looking after Aaron," Miles' tone was unmistakably accusing.

"I did the best I could," Bass replied quietly. He was being sincere; he truly did not want to leave Aaron behind but if they were going to beat the Patriots, he also couldn't afford to sacrifice his life. There were always other options; you just had to find them.

Miles answered sarcastically, "Well, your best sucks." Then, anger draining away as quickly as it appeared, he focused on what to do, "Now we gotta go find him." He wasn't expecting the flash of bitterness on Bass's face as he shook his head.

"Actually, no. No," Bass started, voice low but angry, "You can take your fat friend and these Patriots, for that matter, and you can shove 'em."

Miles was confused and not totally sure how to handle this; Bass was quite a bit smaller than he was but he knew from experience that it was a bad idea to be on the wrong side of Bass when he was pissed...and he was definitely pissed. Or maybe "livid" would be a better word. "I thought you wanted revenge," said Miles, scowling.

Bass looked at him in disbelief and spoke slowly as if Miles were an idiot, "What I want...why I saved you, what I care about is my son, Miles," Bass shoved a finger into his chest for emphasis as he continued, "You hid him from me. Now you tell me where he is...and I'm outta here."

Now it made sense. Miles had completely forgotten about their conversation in the bank. He glanced down and let out a breath. Trying to look Bass in the eye but failing miserably, he shook his head and started pacing.

Bass's face changed from anger to confusion, "What?" He glanced over to see Charlie and Rachel eavesdropping but he didn't care. He walked to the corner where Miles was now standing and waited for him to explain.

Miles still refused to look at him but he pulled up his sleeve, showing Bass his injured hand. But that wasn't how it was supposed to look. His hand was severely swollen, as was his wrist. His veins stood out against his pale skin and plainly showed the infection that was ravaging his body.

Bass just stared. "Holy hell," he murmured. Miles finally spoke.

"It's infected."

Bass finally tore his gaze away to slowly look at Miles, a look of exasperation on his face. "You think?" he asked dryly. He gently placed his hand against Miles' forehead, quickly jerking it back when he felt the fever radiating from him, "You're burning up, you moron!" Honestly, he wasn't sure which was more worrying; the fever or the fact that Miles barely reacted to him checking his temperature, "You need a doctor!" Despite how angry he had been a moment ago, he couldn't keep the concern out of his voice.

"A doctor?" Miles spat. He looked toward the girls then back to Bass, "They've got Rachel's dad." He paused, then spoke quietly, "Look, I'm having a hard time swinging a sword...I need you."

Any other time, Bass would have been ecstatic to hear that from Miles. Now, he was worried enough that it barely registered, "No, you need help."

"I gotta go find Aaron," Miles told him earnestly.

Bass was incredulous, "Look, Aaron...Aaron, he's nice and all but he's not worth dying over."

Miles leaned forward and spoke slowly but firmly, "I disagree." He held Bass's gaze for a moment before looking away.

Bass continued to stare, hardly believing this was the same Miles he ran the Republic with, "Oh my God. You really have gone soft! You're like a...a puppy holding a kitten!"

Miles was done. "Just help me," he snapped, "Okay? And I swear, I'll tell you where your son is."

He should have known that wouldn't go over well. Once again, the concern was replaced by anger on Bass's part, "No. This is not my problem."

Miles tone turned dangerous, "Yes it is." When Bass didn't show any sign of relenting, Miles turned to a new tactic, one he actually felt ashamed of himself for using, "If you don't help me, I will never help you find your kid." He knew that was a low blow and felt it even more when he saw the look of disbelief and betrayal on Bass's face.

Bass couldn't believe Miles, his former best friend, the guy that saw him break down completely when he lost his first child, was holding his second one over him. He could see Miles meant what he said so he stepped back then checked outside, listening intently. Not hearing or seeing anything unusual, he turned to the others. "No one here," he said tersely, avoiding Miles' eyes, "We're moving out."

~~MM~~MM~~MM~~MM~~

The fog had somewhat lifted as they walked through the woods. Charlie had been able to pick up the trail so they followed her. They'd gone quite a ways when Bass broke the silence, looking at Miles for the first time since leaving the cellar, "Does it seem a little quiet to you?"

Miles listened for a moment, "Patriots are gone."

"They must have found Aaron," Rachel said in a wavering voice.

Charlie glanced back, "They went this way." She led them on until they came to a school. Crouching behind some bushes, they observed a small army of Patriots grouping together out front.

Miles met everyone's eyes in turn and nodded, "Okay, let's go get Aaron."

The group moved quickly through the deserted halls, killing stray Patriots when they came across them.

When they came to the main hall of the school, Miles ordered them to split up. Rachel and him when one direction and Bass followed Charlie down the other.

Bass was surprised at how smoothly him and Charlie could work together. It was a silent agreement that she would take on side of the hall way, walking backwards to watch their six, and Bass would take the other side, keeping an eye on their front. A noise around a corner ahead stopped them. They looked at each other then ducked into hiding just as a squad of Patriots came walking down the hall.

Charlie was hiding in a doorway to a classroom but Bass had hidden around the corner of a connecting hall. They stared at each other but she felt a sinking feeling as she saw him glance at the Exit sign in his hall then look back at her. Sure enough, with a tilt of his head, he walked away. She had just enough time to move from the doorway to inside a locker before two Patriots came to investigate her room. She waited until she couldn't hear anymore shuffling or footsteps before swinging open the door to the locker. She started to walk into the hall when the Patriot squad leader grabbed her by the throat, slamming her back into the wall as he held a gun to her head as a second Patriot smirked from beside him.

Suddenly, Bass was there, taking out the second Patriot and gaining enough of the first's attention to allow Charlie to stab him, his body falling to the ground. She looked over at Bass, concealing her surprise that he was here, "You came back."

Bass didn't answer, just looked back at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Talking from around the corner caught his attention. "Go, go," he urged Charlie and they both dashed away, unfortunately not before the next squad of Patriots got a look at them and began pursuit. They came to a gym area and threw themselves over a pile of rubble, using it as cover while they fired their rifles at the incoming Patriots.

Bass knew they were in deep trouble. Not only were the Patriots severely outnumbering him and Charlie, the two of them had limited ammo. Even firing bursts like they were, Bass bet they would run out of ammo before they ran out of Patriots. They were both ducked down behind the pile of rubble when abruptly the rounds stopped snapping overhead and screams filled the air. They both looked up to see every Patriot in the room engulfed in flames.

Well, Bass figured, that solved their biggest problems. Not only were the Patriots taken care of, they definitely knew Aaron was in the building.