Later as the doctor was checking Lake's wounds, Commander Rhodes and Lieutenant Waters came in and sat down, followed by Doc and Red. No one said anything until the doctor left. Commander Rhodes spoke first.

"I imagine you'll have a lot of questions to ask her," he begins. "We need to know a few things as well. We need to know who she is, how did she do the things she did, and what she has been doing. I'd also like to know why she is wanted, although her answer won't change the fact that she is still a prisoner."

"So you want me to take advantage of the possibility that she may talk to me," Lake asks incredulously. "I owe her my life, sir! How do you know she'll even tell me anything?"

"We think she will talk to you," Rhodes says. "She has asked about you every day since we brought you back."

Before Lake could ask any more questions, he heard footsteps and a scuffling. Following that came a voice, an angry voice.

"Do it again," the voice dared. "Do it again and you'll regret it."

Definitely a female voice, Lake thinks to himself. She sounds Australian. Not what the angel had sounded like.

Then a small brunette came through the door with a dusty red dog at her heel, followed by two surly looking guards. The dog turned and faced the two guards, growling, with its hackles raised.

Lake's scout eyes quickly study her features. She stands about 5'1", long dark brown hair in a ponytail, small frame, but curvy. Big brown eyes. Eyes that contain fire and spirit. He also studies the dog that stands between her and every other person in the room, looking from face to face, making sure no one comes too close to his mistress. The dog is on the larger side of medium build, a dusty red color with faint dark stripes across his back, almost like a tiger. Sharp triangular ears and a slightly curled tail.

"You men wait outside the door," Commander Rhodes says. "It's too crowded in here."

After the guards leave, Rhodes speaks again, this time to the prisoner.

"What was that about," he asks.

"Just a difference of opinion concerning human rights," she answers. "May I suggest you tell them to keep their hands to themselves, or the dog will have their hands off at their shoulders. There is only so much voice obedience in an angry dog and I know enough about international human rights law to know that they aren't supposed to be pushing me."

"It will not happen again, I assure you," Rhodes says. "This is Lake, the man you saved. We are grateful to you for saving him."

"You sure have a funny way of showing it, but I know who he is," she says. "I followed them since they left the mission. You think I wouldn't have learned their names?"

"We brought you here to talk with him," Rhodes says.

"Well I generally prefer to have one on one conversations with people I save," she says. "I'm a little uncomfortable with an audience. This is more like an interrogation."

"You are still a prisoner, so you have to be supervised," Rhodes explains.

"As if the cuffs and rough guards aren't enough to remind me of that fact," she remarks. "Fine." She looks directly at Lake and asks, "So what are your questions?"

"Who are you," he asks. "Why did you save me, if it was you who saved me?"

"You doubt that I saved you," she questions.

"I seem to recall a different voice, and there is some doubt in my mind," Lake answers.

"Is it because I'm small and female," she asks.

"Why do you keep answering my questions with questions," Lake asks.

"Do you doubt that I'm capable of saving your life and moving you and the fallen by myself," she asks, ignoring his questions.

"A little, but only because even four men would have trouble moving the bodies over those distances," Lake answers.

"Truth be told, I'm surprised you haven't called me an outright liar," she answers, smiling. "I guess it doesn't really matter, because I won't be able to prove it to you."

"So, who are you," Lake asks again.

"Grace McCann, author, traveler, and adventurer," she answers. "And I might want a JAG lawyer."

At this, one of the guards leans in the door and says, "We have already told her she isn't eligible for a JAG lawyer because she isn't military, hell she isn't even American!"

At this her eyes flash with an indiscernible look, vaguely like amusement. She reaches down and reaches in the side of her boot and removes a card. Then turning to face Commander Rhodes she says, in a distinctly not Australian accent, "Yes. I am eligible for a JAG lawyer." With that she hands him a U.S. military identification card. Every eye in the room stares at her in shock. She laughs, takes a bow and says, "Sergeant Reilly Hartigan, New York National Guard."

A shocked silence fills the room. Commander Rhodes clears his throat and asks, "Sergeant, does your unit know where you are and that there are warrants out for your arrest?"

"Yes and no," Reilly answers.

"Explain," he says.

"My unit knows where I am, but they don't know about the warrants," she says calmly.

"Why don't they know," he asks.

"Do you even know what the warrants are for," she asks.

"No. But-"

"It's because there are no warrants for my arrest," she states, as if it were common knowledge. "Ask your chain of command who told them I was wanted. I'll bet they don't even know."

"What were you doing in Nigeria," Lake interjects.

"I wasn't in Nigeria," she answers. "I was in Cameroon. Then I went into Nigeria"

"What were you doing in Cameroon," Rhodes asks.

"A friend of my family is a missionary there," she says. "I've been helping him out with various projects. His name is Pastor Simeon Zania. He'll vouch for me. Then we heard about the fighting in Nigeria, and he was worried about the missionaries at Saint Michael's. I told him I would go see if they needed help. I heard the missionaries tell your men that they weren't going to leave. I doubted I could change their minds either, but I asked and pleaded and they would not leave. They just told me to give their regards to Pastor Simeon."

"You had quite an assortment of weapons for a traveler," Rhodes remarks.

"I have licenses and travel permits for all of them," she defends. "They would not have made much difference against the numbers of men the rebels had. I figured I could put them to better use defending the refugees your men were escorting."

"How did you manage to hide your presence from us," Red asks. "Lake and I had our eyes and ears open for anyone that wasn't part of our group."

"I'm very good at hide-and-seek," she says mischievously. "Actually you guys came pretty close a couple of times."

"So how did you manage to move Lake and the bodies in such a short time," Rhodes asks.

"Sheer determination," she answers. "Not to be rude but my whole "conversation" with Lake hasn't exactly been between me and him. I've mostly been answering your questions."

"My apologies," the Commander says, getting up. "Red, Doc, let's go. Give them some privacy. Lieutenant Waters will stay and supervise the rest of the visit. And he will walk with you back to your cell. Good day."

After they leave there is a short silence, Reilly breaks it first.

"So did you have any questions that your chain of command didn't put you up to," she asks.

Lake is a bit surprised by her directness, but asks, "What is the dog's name?"

"His name is Jin-Sun," she answers, scratching the dog behind his ears. The dog's ears flick back at the sound of his name and his tail wags a slightly, but he doesn't take his eyes off the two men in the room.

"What breed is he," Lake asks, glad to have found a subject to talk about.

"He is a Jindo," Reilly answers.

"Where did you get him," Lake asks.

"I got him from a dogfighting ring in Indonesia," she answers calmly. "That is part of the reason he keeps staring at you two. It's good that you aren't looking directly at him. It agitates him."

"You have a fighting dog," Lake questions incredulously. "Isn't that illegal in the States?"

"Yes it is and I don't support dogfighting," she replies. "Jin is the best and deadliest fighting dog in all of Asia. I helped the local cops gather evidence of the fighting and when they raided the building, they started shooting the dogs. I stopped them from killing Jin, but he did take a shot to the shoulder. I found a halfway decent vet, who treated Jin's shoulder. It took a little while for us to get used to each other, but now he trusts me. He is my constant shadow. But he doesn't like men. Men abused him and forced him to fight. Although he does seem to tolerate the men in my family. I couldn't have a better travelling companion."

"How long have you had him," Lake asks.

"About a year and a half," she responds. "I got him during my Asian tour. Like I said I'm a traveler. It helps with my writing."

"You said that you're an author," Lake queries.

"Yes," she replies. "I'm an author. Pretty successful too, and a travel, partly, improve my writing and add depth and culture to my stories. Grace McCann is my nom de plume. I occasionally sell a travel piece to a magazine or two. They pay pretty well."

"Wow," Lake says. "What do you do with the money?"

"Pay my expenses," Reilly answers with a smile. "I own several houses."

Lake is taken aback by this admission, but manages to ask, "Why do you have several houses if you travel as much as you do? How can you afford it?"

"Well my captain is a stockbroker on the civilian side," she explains, smiling at the shock on the scout's face. "During our deployment, I had him invest a couple thousand dollars for me, and they paid back in multiples. So I bought a couple of houses." The look on her face tells the scout that this is a sensitive subject. "Partly for safety."

"Safety from what," Lake asks.