But screw your courage to the sticking-place,
And we'll not fail. ~ Macbeth

"Yeah?" Jim said into the phone. Finally focusing on the clock showed it to be 1:24. A.M. "This better be good."

"Scotty's down," Chris said, waking Jim the rest of the way.

"All right," Jim said, sitting up and squinting at the brightness when he turned on his light. "Pavel okay?"

"Handling it better than I expected. Has Scotty secure."

"What happened?" he asked, looking up at Bones who was standing in his doorway with a frown.

"I'm not really sure. But Scotty can't fly the shuttle. And Pavel isn't certified. I don't doubt he could but not alone. Not his first time."

"Of course not," Jim agreed. "Can I take Sulu?"

"He's going to be emotionally compromised when he hears. I'm sending Giotto to pick you up."

"Did they fulfill the mission?" Jim asked.

"Yeah. It may have been crossfire. I couldn't get the facts from Pavel. He kept slipping into Russian. I told him you're on your way. And he should call you his first chance."

"Okay," Jim repeated.

"Chris has to call Mr. Spock," Bones told him, Jim repeating it.

"I'll take care of it. Go and get them, Jim. Bring them home."

"I will," Jim promised, hanging up and pulling on black jeans and a plain black shirt.

"What happened to Scotty?" Bones asked as Jim checked his backpack.

"Chris said he was shot. He thinks in the crossfire. They finished the job."

Bones nodded, going with Jim into the living room. "Does Hikaru know?"

"Chris will call him. He'll have to order him to stay away," Jim said, shaking his head.

"He may be at the shuttle hanger when you get there," Bones warned, taking Jim's black leather jacket out of the closet.

"He may. He'll follow orders. Even if it is Pavel," Jim said, peering out the front window.

"Who's coming?" Bones asked.

"Sam Giotto. Go back to bed. I'll call as soon as we know anything," Jim said warmly.

"I know you will. I'm awake now. I'll wait until Giotto gets here," Bones said. "Please be careful. You're still recovering."

"I'll be fine. It's been nearly a week since I was injured," Jim reminded him.

"Barely 5 days," Bones said, shaking his head. "Let Sam fly so you can get some sleep."

"Will you please stop worrying? We'll be fine."

"Okay," Bones said. "Call me as soon as you know anything."

"You know I will," Jim agreed, opening the front door when Sam pulled into the drive. "I'll see you later."

"Right," Bones said, closing the door behind him. He returned to bed, sleep not returning as easily.

"You have any details?" Jim asked Sam when he was in the toasty Suburban. The two toddler booster seats were in the back, ready for when Sam got home to Denise and their twin boys.

"Not any more than you have. Chris told Pavel to call you since you can translate. He didn't reach you yet, right?" Sam asked.

"Not yet," Jim said, taking his phone out of his pocket to double check that he hadn't missed any calls. "I'm sure he'll call as soon as he feels safe."

"I'm sure he will," Sam said, driving carefully down the narrow road that was the only way in or out of Jim's property. "Could you be further off the road?"

Jim shrugged, telling him about his new editor who had made a surprise appearance on Monday.

"Where'd he get your address?" Sam asked, turning onto a more main road that would eventually lead them to town.

"Called in favors as far as I could tell. He's very…structured. Even for a Vulcan," Jim said.

"What are you going to do?" Sam asked.

"I had a meeting with him today. Chris will reschedule it. Marjorie said to draw a line in the sand. They aren't going to risk losing me as their 'property.'"

Sam laughed softly at that. "I know how much you appreciated her saying that."

"Totally. She also said I need to be on Oprah when the next comes out. Just the idea makes me shudder."

"I know, Jim. But she has a point. I read it yesterday. One of your very best," Sam said with a smile.

"But you aren't prejudiced in your views at all," Jim laughed.

"Not in the least. It's brilliant. Funny. Poignant. Insightful. Made me think."

"And needs a whole world of revisions, according to Spock."

"That's a little hard to believe," Sam said. "I mean, there were a few inconsistencies. But that always happens. You fix those and you're done."

"Thanks," Jim said. "You think Marjorie would have told me she was retiring. You and Denise are coming to her dinner Saturday, right?"

"Of course," Sam agreed, pulling into the drive-thru of the all-night donut shop, ordering two extra large coffees and a box of donut holes. "No, we aren't the police," he told the sleepy teenager who took his money in exchange for their order.

"You have a babysitter for Saturday?" Jim asked, accepting his coffee.

"Yeah. Denise's sister said she'd come over. The boys love her so we're all set," Sam said. "We need to bring anything?"

"I have no idea. Hikaru is planning it. You can ask him when we get back," Jim said, looking out the window at the Christmas decorations up in the town. "You start your Christmas shopping yet?"

"Mail order, Jimmy. I told you that's the way to go," Sam said with a laugh.

"Yeah. What should I get the boys?" Jim asked.

"Those fire engines you pedal. Denise will probably disable the bell but the little guys will love them."

"Consider it done," Jim agreed. "I'll order them from Amazon. I still have at least a thousand dollars in credits."

Sam laughed at that. "It really does suck to be you."

"You have no idea," Jim agreed, eating another donut hole. "How's Denise's research going?"

"She's hit a snag. The new hybrids didn't take so she's going to have to try again."

"I'm sorry. It would have been great if it had worked like she expected," Jim said.

"She still can't figure out why it didn't work. The computer models were very encouraging."

"Sabotage?" Jim asked.

"We only think that because of what we do," Sam told him.

"Denise tell you that?"

"Something like that," Sam confirmed, pulling up to the gate to enter his code. It slid open to allow them to enter the private airfield. It wasn't long before they arrived at the disguised hanger where the shuttles were housed.

They wanted to be surprised when they pulled up beside a cherry red Jeep Cherokee, Sulu emerging as soon as Sam stopped his car.

"You can't be here," Jim told Hikaru when he was out of the Suburban.

"I don't care. I'm coming," Sulu informed him, staring holes through Jim before turning to face Sam, fierce determination etched in every line of his body.

"You know that you cannot come," Giotto said, each word distinct.

"It's Pavel, Sam. How does Pike think I can't go?" Sulu demanded.

"Not only is it standard procedure, it's too dangerous for you to go, Karu. You know that. We'll get them out," Jim promised, a hand on Sulu's shoulder.

"Please, Jim," Sulu asked, need replacing defiance.

Jim could only shake his head. "It'd be our butts in a sling too. I know you're worried. We're worried too. If it was Bones, would Pike let me go?"

Sulu considered those words for a moment, looking from Jim to Sam and back. "Yes."

"No he wouldn't," Sam corrected. "He'd send me and you. Not Jim. Those regs exist for a reason. Even Jim respects them. How many others has he ever followed?"

"None," Hikaru conceded. "Let me at least go with you. I'll stay out of the operation."

Jim shook his head again. "Go home, Hikaru. Bones is probably still awake. You two can worry together. And you can make sure he gets to work on time."

"You'll call as soon as you can?" Sulu asked Jim, the raw emotions coming through in his voice.

"As soon as we know anything," Jim promised. "Has Pavel contacted you?"

"No. He knows the protocol. You'll have him call when he can?"

"You know I will," Jim said, pulling Hikaru into a warm hug. "Go home. You'll hear from us first. I promise."

Sulu looked like he wanted to continue to argue but instead slowly backed away and got into his Cherokee. When he was out of the airfield, Jim turned to Sam who was watching him with a warm expression.

"What?" Jim asked.

Sam shrugged, smiling at him. "You are only a few years older. But you could be his father."

"Older, beloved brother," Jim corrected.

"Either way. You are very good for him," Sam said.

"I try to give him what you and Chris gave me," Jim said gratefully.

"You're welcome, kid," Sam said with a quiet laugh.

Jim took out his phone, requesting the code from the system, confirming to Sam that it was received. Sam unlocked the hanger door, the safeguards allowing Jim 20 seconds to input the code or the hanger would self-destruct and them with it. The code safely entered, the door locked behind them and the lights came on in response. There were 3 shuttles remaining. One was being repaired and one was still in Hong Kong.

Jim's phone said they should take shuttle 325 – Obi-Wan. The door to that shuttle opened as they approached, the lights inside welcoming without being too bright. Sam took the pilot seat, Jim in the co-pilot position. He was fully certified to fly all of the shuttles but Sam was more experienced and was pilot by default.

When they finished all the systems checks, Sam entered his code into the control panel and the hanger roof retracted for them to lift off through it.

"ETA 87.256 minutes," the very helpful computer informed them when they were clear of the hanger.

"Get some sleep," Sam said to Jim. "I'll wake you when as we are approaching Chinese airspace."

"Okay," Jim agreed, putting his phone into the shuttle recharger pod. He reclined his seat, closing his eyes. It was only a minute later that he was sound asleep, the lessons on grabbing sleep when it was available learned well over the years.

He was instantly awake when his phone rang. "Pavel," he said smoothly, almost gently. "Are you safe?"

"Da," Pavel said, sounding remarkably calm. "Scotty is stable."

"Is he conscious?" Jim asked.

"Intermittently," Pavel said in Russian. "He has no fever. Bullet went all way through."

"That's good," Jim replied in English. "Where are you?"

"Location 243C. Blacked out. Water is good."

"Good. You're only 6 minutes by foot from the warehouse," Jim said. "We'll land in…."

"21 minutes," Sam supplied.

Jim repeated it, Chekov confirming. "Did you disable the shuttle?"

"Da. You will fly it back?" Chekov asked.

"Probably. Are you able to contact Sulu?"

"I do not risk it," Pavel said. "The patrols circle but do not enter."

"All right. Sit tight. We'll get you out," Jim assured him.

"I do not worry. I know you are coming," Pavel said, speaking in Russian because it was easier for his brain to process under the circumstances.

"We'll contact you when we're ready to land," Jim assured him. Pavel acknowledged, signing off. "Think it's safe to call Sulu?"

Sam checked the controls, confirming that they were still on their side of friendly airspace.

Jim dialed Sulu's number, the phone answered before the first ring finished. "He's fine."

"What'd he say?" Sulu asked breathlessly.

"He followed all the protocols. Scotty is stable. He disabled the shuttle just like he was supposed to."

"He's safe?" Sulu asked.

"Yes. In black-out. He has plenty of water." Jim could hear Sulu taking a calming breath. "I'll call you as soon as we have them secured."

"Okay. Thanks," Sulu said, his voice more relaxed. "I'll sorry about my behavior at the hanger."

"Not necessary," Jim assured him. "It's forgotten. I'd do the same if it were Bones."

"No you wouldn't," Hikaru laughed. "But thanks for saying so."

"Right," Jim said. "We're approaching Chinese airspace. We'll call as soon as possible."

"Thanks," Sulu agreed, hanging up.

"He okay?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. You know. It'll get easier on him," Jim said.

"Not really," Sam laughed. "He'll get better at disguising it."

"True," Jim agreed. "Have we been spotted by radar?"

"Not yet. We're above them. We'll dip down at the last second and then we'll be below it so they'll think we are a malfunction," Sam said.

"Good," Jim said, looking out the shuttle window at the endless blue of the sky. "The more I think about this Spock, the angrier I get."

"I can understand that," Sam said. "You know he's not right."

"Hardly matters. He believes he is. Which makes him right."

"And he'll be sorry when Chris finds you a new publisher," Sam reminded him.

"I don't want it to get that far. Seriously, Sam. Does he think my novels before he came along were trash?"

"Of course not. He wants to announce his presence with authority."

"I guess it's a good thing I have such a high batting average then," Jim laughed.

"Absolutely," Sam agreed. "Secure your shoulder harness. We're ready to dive."

Jim nodded, tightening all of his belts and straps. Sam expertly dove quickly and smoothly, evading their radar and effectively disappearing. They flew low over the outskirts of the city, their shuttlecraft signaling Pavel that they were nearly there. Very soon, they arrived at the location closest to where Chekov said they would be found. They came to the old abandoned American Pepsi bottling facility, one of the wide warehouse doors crawling aside when Sam input the code. Sam turned the shuttle on its side, flying it through the door. He straightened up, effortlessly landing the craft next to #315 Qui-Gon, the one Scotty and Pavel had flown to Hong Kong. The warehouse door creaked closed.

Sam shut down all the systems before opening the shuttle door. Jim led him out and into the huge empty warehouse, making sure they had all their gear. After securing their shuttle, they peered out the regular door to make sure the area was deserted as it generally was. There was no one stirring in the rundown industrial section where they had landed so they felt safe to emerge into the sunshine diluted by the ever present Hong Kong pollution.

"The air quality gets worse every time I come," Sam remarked casually as they made their way toward the busy road that ran in front of the warehouse complex.

"China will never really adhere to the Kyoto Protocol," Jim agreed. "Unfortunate, really."

"At least they signed it," Sam said. They stayed close to the dilapidated buildings, fading into the shadows as much as they could. When they reached the crowded street, clogged with bicycles, pedestrians, small cars, and ancient trucks, they blended in as well as they could, standing taller than most of the residents. They did not attract any particular attention outside of some curious glances. Jim listened attentively to the chatter around them, not detecting any suspicions concerning their presence.

They casually ducked into the alley that they knew would lead them to the safe house that Chekov had given them as their location. After entering the dark hallway, they took the wooden steps up two at a time until they reached the fourth floor.

Chekov stood just on the other side of a scarred wooden door, his phaser steadily held chest high. He relaxed a fraction, stepping further into the room so that Jim and Sam could enter. He looked calm despite the fact that his clothes were liberally splattered with blood. "Jim, Sam," Pavel said, relief in his voice as he holstered the phaser.

"We're here," Sam assured him.

"Scotty is currently unconscious," Pavel said, Jim translating. "Oh. I am sorry. I meant to say in English."

"Not a problem, Pavel. You haven't slept in nearly 24 hours, right?"

"Da," Chekov agreed. "No I have not. Slept. I am okay."

"I know you are, Pavel," Jim assured him, telling him that he was still using English. He and Sam followed Chekov into a smaller room to find Scotty laying on the floor, his eyes closed, lines of pain surrounding them, his breathing shallow but even.

"Scotty," Pavel said, a hand on his right shoulder. The left leg of his trousers was split all the way up to his hip, an ugly dark wound marring his thigh. Scotty eyes slowed opened, trying to focus on Pavel and then on Sam.

"Hey," Scotty whispered. "We home?"

"Not yet, Scotty," Sam said softly. "We'll get you there as soon as we can."

Scotty barely nodded, shifting his blurry vision to Pavel. "Chekov did great. Took him out like a pro."

"Good," Sam said with a nod. "What happened?"

"Crossfire. We made the shot. Just one. There was confusion. Bodyguards didn't know where it was from. Sprayed the area with gunfire. Three bystanders hurt," Chekov said in concern.

"It is sometimes a regrettable consequence," Sam reminded him, putting his hand on Scotty's forehead. He was too warm and too pale. Blood loss and possible infection from the gunshot wound. Sam accepted Jim's backpack, digging in it until he found the portable medical kit. He took out a huge bandage, cleaning as much of the blood off Scotty's leg as he could.

"Sulu is worried but he's okay," Jim was saying to Pavel.

"Da," Chekov agreed. "I can speak with him on the way home?"

"Of course," Jim said, giving him a protein bar to eat. "You want another one?"

"No. I am okay. How is he?" Chekov asked Sam who was working on Scotty's leg.

"He's lost a lot of blood. The bullet went all the way through so that was good. It's going to be a tough go getting him back to the shuttle," Sam said, looking up at Jim.

"Sundown's in about 45 minutes," Jim said, checking his watch. "It will be easier to get back undetected once it's dark."

"Can Scotty wait?" Chekov asked. Sam looked up at Jim who translated for Chekov who couldn't seem to remain in English.

"We don't have any choice," Sam told him gently, looking down at the wounded man who was speaking softly. Sam listened before requesting water from Chekov. He soon returned with it, handing it to Jim who helped Scotty drink it as Sam put the bandage over the wound. When it was tied tight, Jim removed his jacket, putting it over Scotty to help conserve his body heat as the daylight began to fade. Sam also put his jacket over Scotty, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Is he hallucinating?" Pavel asked Sam when he was squatting next to Scotty, his eyes wide.

"Praying," Sam said, looking over at the younger man. "Foxhole religion."

"Da," Pavel said with a nod before turning his attention to Jim. "Pike will be mad. With me."

"No he won't, Pav. Why do you think this is your fault?" Jim asked.

"He was protecting me. He could have gotten safely away but he stayed."

"That's what we do. And you would have done the exact same thing," Jim reminded him.

"Da," Chekov agreed with a nod. They talked quietly as they waited for the sun to make its slow way out of the sky, Sam closely monitoring Scotty's condition although he knew there was very little he could do if Scotty took a turn for the worse. But Scotty had proved his toughness dozens of times before and they knew this time would be no different.

"It's 17:00," Jim said, peering cautiously out of a nearly blacked out window. "Sundown was at 16:30."

"Good," Sam said with a nod. He gently shook Scotty who slowly opened his eyes. "Scotty. We have to move."

"Right," Scotty said. "I'm with you, Calum. Is it time for dinner?"

"Very nearly," Sam agreed. "We have to get home first."

"Right right," Scotty said, struggling to sit up. "Had a wee too much to drink. Sorry Calum."

"It's fine, Scotty. I'll get you home. Jim and Pavel will help us."

"Jim?" Scotty said, squinting at Jim. "What are you doin' here, lad?"

"I was invited to dinner. So I told Sam I'd help get you home on time."

"Calum's a good lad," Scotty said in approval. "That you, Duncan?"

"It is," Pavel agreed. "I'm coming to dinner too."

"Mama knows?" Scotty asked Sam as he helped Scotty try to stand.

"Mama knows," Sam assured him. "She has plenty for all of us."

"Shepherd pie," Scotty said with a nod. "Hers is the best."

"Absolutely," Jim agreed, standing on Scotty's left side as Sam supported his right. "You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Scotty said sounding more lucid. But they suspected it would not last and soon he'd be back in his own world where Sam and Pavel were his brothers instead of his friends.

Pavel took his phaser out of his hidden holster, leading the way out of the small room and into the dark hallway. There were no lights in the corridor. It meant they would not be detected though it made getting safely down the steps more of a challenge. They descended the narrow stairwell, Scotty clamping his teeth on any sounds he might have made. They had to get to the street. There was no way around it.

Pavel slowly opened the door to check the alleyway, nodding and putting away his phaser. He led them out into the alley and they made their way to the street. It was less crowded than it had been earlier which was not in their favor. They would stand out more as Anglos, not disappearing in with the residents. They attracted some unwelcome attention but the determined and slightly fierce expressions on their faces prevented anyone from approaching them.

The trip was slowed by Scotty's inability to support his own weight but he was valiantly silent the entire time. When they at last reached the deserted warehouse section, Jim hoisted Scotty over one shoulder. Scotty grunted quietly when the movement jarred his leg but did not complain. Sam was pretty sure that Scotty passed out shortly after he was picked up. It was really for the best.

It was a great relief for them all when they reached the Pepsi warehouse, slipping inside after Pavel used his phone to signal the door to open. They went directly into shuttle Obi-Wan when Sam had the doorway down. Jim lowered Scotty onto one of the beds in the back, arranging his leg more comfortably.

"Go and get the blankets from your shuttle," Sam said to Pavel who nodded and left. Sam was working on Scotty who was mumbling incoherently.

"How's it look?" Jim asked.

"Like you'd expect. It's mostly the blood loss. Get me an IV," Sam directed, Jim automatically going to the storage unit. He very soon returned with the sterile bag and the necessary tubing. Sam eased the needle into Scotty's arm and turned on the drip. He hung it from the convenient hook above the bed where Scotty was laying, securing it so it would not come loose on the trip home.

Pavel returned and handed the blankets to Jim, making himself scarce as the other men worked on Scotty. Sam did everything he could to make sure Scotty was as well cared for as possible, strapping him in. "Pavel."

Chekov returned to the open compartment, looking up at Sam.

"He's stable. He'll make it until we get home and Leonard can fix him up."

"Da," Pavel said with a nod.

"Lay down and get some sleep. We'll be home in a couple of hours," Sam said, Pavel looking at Jim with wide eyes. Jim repeated what Sam had said in Russian, Pavel better able to understand in his native language.

"Da," Pavel said, laying down in the bed across from Scotty and waiting as Jim fastened him in and pulling the blanket over him. "Спасибо."

"You're welcome," Jim responded, following Sam into the front compartment, studying Sam. "You need me to drive?"

"I'm okay," Sam said, taking a deep breath. "I'm not sure he's going to make it."

"I know, Sam. You did everything you could. We aren't a hospital," Jim said in the same very quiet tone.

"If the worst happens, will Chekov survive it?"

"He's tougher then he looks," Jim said. "And he has Hikaru."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, sitting in the pilot seat as Jim took the co-pilot position.

A/N: A gigantic Thank You to everyone who has reviewed, favorited and/or alerted this story! You are the cream and sugar in my coffee! I don't know when I'll update this story next because I have decided to plunge headlong into the madness that is National Novel Writing Month - NaNoWriMo - 50,000 words in 30 days. (Google it - you'll understand.) Why I've decided to do this is really beyond me but I feel the need to try it. I am writing a non-fanfiction story so you won't be able to find it under my ST fanfiction pen name. If you are really curious, feel free to private message me and I'll share with you the info you'll need to track my progress. (Yeah, it's way too complicated and I'm sorry it sounds so cloak and dagger.) Anyway, I hope you enjoyed chapter 6 and I'll post chapter 7 as quickly as I can. Thanks again!

Oh yeah - one more thing - about the quote at the beginning of this chapter. I LOVE Disney's Beauty and the Beast and I always thought it was kind of weird when Gaston sang "so screw your courage to the sticking place... Gaston will lead the way." I didn't know it was from Shakespeare! Now I love that movie even more, although that is hardly possible!