Author's Note: Just a quick note to thank my wonderful husband for his help with this story. He's much more of a strategist than I am, and he spent one very long evening helping me unbuild a wall I'd built in the writing of this story. It resulted in this chapter—and the next one—being rewritten with the entire ending of the plot revised. But, after reading it, I think it's a much better story.

Guest: So glad you're enjoying the story! LOL! This was a moment I'd foreseen since beginning the entire thing, so actually writing it was something of a relief.

Lisa: Thanks for the review! And, yes, Aaron will have his day. :) That's a guarantee!

As always, hope you enjoy the chapter! ~lg

oOo

Marta spent most of the night torn between crying and trying to think clearly. She knew her captors watched her, but she didn't care. She refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry while they were in the room.

The violence took her by surprise. When a door slammed some distance away from her cold concrete room, she jerked awake and groaned as bruises on top of muscle aches made themselves known. She still lay on her side, bound to the chair, and her right arm and hip had gone numb. The cold seeped into her body, making her shiver, and she felt the swelling on the side of her face where her interrogator had hit her. She had seen violence before, when the strike team came to her house to fake her suicide, but she had not been openly struck in a way to elicit information. Aaron had always shielded her from it.

The door to her room opened, and the man from the night before walked in, followed by a big blond guy who looked vaguely familiar. Marta bit down on her lip to keep from crying out when the big man unceremoniously set her chair back up. Her head spun, and the change in elevation combined with her injuries made the transition less than pleasant. Thankfully, the nausea didn't assert itself too terribly, so she glared up at the first guy to walk into the door.

He was tall and thin, wearing a suit and tie as if in a business office rather than an interrogation room. Now, he stood in front of her with his hands in his pockets, demeanor completely relaxed, as he studied her. Pale blue eyes watched her blink at him, and she saw the slight scowl between his eyebrows. Marta doubted he realized he even showed his thoughts, and she couldn't interpret them, not in her current condition. A large mole stood out on the lower right side of his chin, a defining feature she filed away for later.

He waited until she started wiggling her fingers out of a necessity to restore circulation. "Have you given our offer any thought?" When Marta rolled her eyes to look at him, he smiled ever so slightly. "Are you willing to tell us where Outcome 5 is?"

Marta's tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as she answered. "No." The simple word, without the use of profanity, was as resolute as she could make it.

The man shot a look to Blondie behind her, and she felt hands take hold of her chair. A moment later, another slap rocked her body to the left and split the left side of her lip. Marta tried to roll with the blow as Aaron had taught her, and she lifted her head to stare through dirty, clumpy hair at her captor.

The man smirked. "If you tell us where he is, this will all go easier for you."

"I don't even know who you are."

The man's smirk widened. "I forgot. We were never fully introduced. Ric Byer, at your service."

Marta's eyes widened, her shock betraying her. This was the man who hunted them around the globe? He looked. . .small. Tall, but too thin and almost anemic. She knew how far he'd go to get his hands on Aaron, though, and she refused to let that happen.

Byer smiled. "Now you understand my interest in your work."

"And I know you'll never let me go, so what's the point?"

Byer laughed. "Are you protecting him? He's nothing but a lab rat to you. Five. A number. You created him."

Marta lifted her chin. "He's a man," she said in a low voice. "Just like you and your thug back there, only better. He has feelings, emotions. He loves, dreams, thinks. Just like any other man out there." And I love him, she thought.

The revelation could not have come at a worse time. She'd wanted to be with Aaron when that happened, but she'd been tied to a chair and almost beaten for information.

Byer stared at her, his blue gaze boring into hers with a force that surprised Marta. Finally, he nodded. "We don't need you to get Five to come to us."

"He has a name."

Byer's grin told her that his ploy to get under her skin had worked. He lifted his eyes and nodded at Blondie. "I'll leave you to think about your decision. But you have one more chance before I make my move with or without you. Trust me. It would be easier if you cooperated."

Marta glared at Byer as the two men exited, unable to take her eyes off of him. Her shoes had been taken the night before, and her feet sat on cold concrete while the rest of her body shivered. Her face burned from being struck, and she closed her eyes against it just to think.

She loved Aaron. Truly loved him, like she had back in Sydney, like she always had. It had been buried under layers of desires for the future, the ability to pursue her life without relying on him, and her natural independence. But the spark was still there, just waiting to be fanned into flames. Ironically, Byer's actions became the fan.

Marta looked around as her mind whirled. She was tied to a chair with no weapons, no ability to move, and in a concrete room that was monitored from multiple angles. Anything she did to try to escape would be caught before she could complete her actions. But she needed to get out of here. Byer was determined to find Aaron and kill him, and she just could not let that happen. As it had on the drive to Arlington Heights, her mind returned to her thoughts about how she'd treated Aaron. For so long, he'd been her pet, waiting for the scraps of attention and affection that she threw his way while he sat there with his heart open and his love for her apparent even when they no longer lived near each other. Now, more than ever, she wanted to change that, to return what he'd given her ten-fold and never take him for granted again.

The tears started once more, a result of the strength of those desires. If she got out of here, she planned to do just that. If it meant she left her job, she would. She wanted to give Aaron everything that he'd given to her. Protection, devotion, attention, love, and, most of all, trust. All those things, and more, had been put in her hands, and she refused to walk all over them again.

Drawing in a deep breath, she made her decision. She lifted her chin and looked directly to the one-way glass. "I know you're watching. I'll do what you want."

oOo

As soon as Nicky and Jason arrived at the Downers Grove safe house, Aaron herded them into a beat-up sedan he'd hidden there and pointed the way out of town. He'd set up a layered network of safe houses in case he and Marta ever needed to go to ground. Now, he drove through the night as Nicky wrapped a couple of blankets around herself in the back seat and Jason closed his eyes against the headache. For all of the side effects of the chems, Aaron was grateful he didn't deal with headaches.

The trip from Downers Grove to Bloomington, Illinois, typically took no more than two-and-a-half hours. Aaron stayed off the main roads, taking a longer, more circuitous route that kept them moving through the night. The sun had begun lightening the eastern horizon by the time he pulled into town. Throughout the ride, he'd listened to Nicky's soft snores and Jason's even breathing, his mind pulling out every available resource and examining it.

Right now, they needed intel, a lot of intel. He had no idea who had taken Marta, though he had his suspicions, and he required a way to get that information. He didn't like the only option open to him, and the call would have to be made only if Jason and Nicky agreed. But. . . .

Sighing deeply, he glanced over at Jason. "Hey. We're here," he said in a soft voice.

The other man startled awake, blinking several times. Then, without another word, Jason reached through the opening between the seats to nudge Nicky. She mumbled something about coffee grounds and cheesecake, drawing amusement from both men. After a fraction of a second where both of them grinned, Aaron climbed from the car and left Jason to getting the Treadstone psychologist back to the land of the living.

He'd parked behind the run-down two-story home he'd bought in a short sale for a pittance of its worth and had not taken any time to fix it up. With three bedrooms and enough bathrooms that they'd all be comfortable, Aaron trusted it would house them safely for no more than a week. He had other bolt holes in the area, but his equipment had been hidden here. The driveway led around the house, keeping their car off the street and leaving them at a rear garage which held, among other things, a motorcycle.

The house smelled musty as Aaron unlocked the door and disabled the alarm system he'd installed. When he'd first done this, Marta had called him paranoid in that laughing way of hers that meant she understood. Through setting up their "escape plan," he figured out what he wanted to do with the CIA's money. He just hated disappearing on his crew and hoped to still have a contract when this was over.

Nicky stumbled through the door a moment later, her hair and clothes rumpled but eyes bright as she looked around. Their steps echoed on the hard wood, and she immediately headed upstairs for a shower. Aaron called after her to let the water run for a bit so it heated up, and she simply lifted a hand in a wave. Then, he motioned for Jason to join him in the attached garage, nudging the air conditioner on as he passed the thermostat.

The garage had been converted into a "lair," as Marta had named it. While not the newest equipment out there, Aaron had everything he needed to plan and implement an op. One wall held locked metal cabinets with weapons while laptops had been stored in protective sleeves to prevent dust from building up in the components. Now, he moved to the nearest one, opening it up and logging into a Yahoo account he'd set up for just such an event.

It seemed incongruous with the rest of their lives, but Aaron had discovered that news reports provided a starting place for information digs. Things were not always what they seemed to bystanders, and car accidents could be turned into escape attempts or assassination plots with very little work. Now, he skimmed through Yahoo's top stories, not seeing anything standing out and moving on to recent events in large cities. The work took a while, and he saw that Jason had begun to do the same thing. The two men didn't speak, but they communicated well. Nicky returned, and Jason put her to work on another computer. There was no need to draw attention to themselves by hacking secured databases until they had something to use.

It took several hours, several cups of coffee, and some breakfast burritos that Nicky made after a trip to a nearby grocery store. Aaron and Jason had stayed at work while Nicky cooked, though both of them gratefully thanked her for the massive meal she delivered. Aaron tore into the burrito, wishing he'd been able to eat the fettuccine from the night before but not mourning over things that couldn't be helped. The food helped fortify him, and he appreciated that Nicky had thought about something so basic.

Then, he saw it in a news article from over a week ago. The Washington Post reported on the ambush of a police convoy carrying a prisoner to a Senate hearing. An armed posse had waylaid the convoy, using familiar tactics to get the unnamed prisoner released into their custody and making off before reinforcements could show up. As impossible as that sounded, Aaron knew there were ways to do just that. He'd worked with teams that had done similar things, and his heart dropped as he read through the scant bit that the Post offered.

"Hey." His voice felt rusty from not speaking for so long. He glanced at Jason. "Take a look."

Jason read over his shoulder, his eyes skimming the article with the same awareness that Aaron's had. He glanced at Nicky. "Can you find out anything about this?"

She shrugged. "Let me work on it. Give me a few hours."

Aaron, needing to get up and move, waved her on and headed for the other portion of the house. He also needed a shower and some rest, but knowing Marta was out there didn't let him relax. Still, if he was going to be in prime condition to help her, he would have to find a way to silence that portion of his brain.

Upstairs, he took a hot shower and then laid down on one of the mattresses in a bedroom. Slipping his .45 under his pillow, he closed his eyes and forced himself to sleep.

Jason woke him three hours later with a knock on the door. The tension was evident in the way Aaron snapped awake, his hand gripping the hilt of the gun even if he didn't draw it. Jason raised an eyebrow. "Nicky got something."

Aaron nodded and returned to the garage, where Nicky sat at the computer, her face sober. She looked from Jason to Aaron and back. "It was Byer."

Had he not been awake, that would have brought him to full awareness. "Byer?"

"The prisoner was Ric Byer, on his way to another Senate hearing about his work for the National Research Assay Group," Nicky said quietly. Her voice betrayed only a small note of apprehension. "He had apparently planned the entire thing from inside and, since Leavenworth is actually a medium-security prison, it wouldn't be too hard for someone who knows how the system works. It would just take time."

Aaron's heart sank into his shoes as the news settled over him. Ric Byer, the man who had trained him and given him his orders, likely had Marta. Yes, he'd jumped to conclusions, but it made sense. Byer had hunted Aaron and Marta across the globe until they managed to get enough on him to bring him down. The only reason Aaron had sat back and allowed American justice to be done was for Marta. She had hated for him to murder Byer in cold blood. Now, as icy rage began flowing through his veins, Aaron clenched his fists. This time, he would kill Byer.

Nicky and Jason waited, looking to him for instructions. This wasn't their fight. Noah Vosen had been taken down and was still in prison, and everyone else related to Treadstone and Blackbriar were either dead or on their deathbeds. This was Aaron's fight, and he had the right to make the calls.

Meeting Jason's eyes, he reached for two burner phones he'd kept in the garage for this purpose. "Call Landy," he said. "We need every available resource we can get. Right now, Landy's got information and access to databases that we need. Not to mention personnel."

Jason nodded and dialed from memory.

Turning to Nicky, Aaron pulled a flash drive from his pocket as he continued, "This has all the surveillance we were able to pull from the sniper's apartment. The one watching the two of you. Go through it and see if you can figure out who his contact is. I'll backtrace the people Marta worked with, see if any of them were compromised in the process."

A few moments later, Jason returned. "Landy's got her team on it, and she got us access to some resources. But she wants to be in on the take-down."

Aaron considered his options for a moment. Right then, they were isolated and in dire need of any assistance the CIA could provide. By allowing Landy to be involved, he gained a huge network of intel and resources. "I make no promises about Byer," he said softly.

Jason nodded. "She knows."

The trio went to work again as the day progressed. This time, Jason went for food, returning with enough for that night and the next day. Aaron trusted Nicky and Jason to keep a low profile while about, and he devoted every bit of his attention to his background checks. He scrutinized every coworker of Marta's, their relatives, and every other person connected to her new job. Some of them had questionable online activities—one was downright addicted to online poker and other, less appealing enterprises—but none had been in contact with anyone suspicious. Most of the emails and such were either personal or professional in nature, and they did nothing to hide things from someone skilled in hacking. Granted, the hiding came from spouses, and there were a few that caused Aaron to raise his eyebrow. But he found nothing in a cursory scan that indicated Byer or anyone from the now-defunct NRAG had contacted them. Marta's colleagues seemed above board for the most part.

Leaning his elbows on the table, Aaron laced his fingers together and leaned his forehead against his thumbs. He had a headache and was no closer to knowing where Marta had been taken. Except for his three-hour nap earlier, he'd had no sleep in nearly forty-eight hours. He'd become accustomed to a lot more, and his body now screamed at him to call it good for the day. Jason was in a corner, speaking with Landy as he relayed the intel they'd uncovered. Landy had proven to be a good move for them. She not only understood the dangers they faced, but she'd been instrumental in bringing down those responsible for Treadstone, Blackbriar, Outcome, LARX, and a host of other programs. While not keen on being drawn back into the middle of things, she willingly helped Aaron, Jason, and Nicky obtain the information they needed. And, right now, she had as little as they did save for footage from traffic cams of the ambush.

What Aaron wanted was to rush off, storm the building where Marta was being held, and remove any and all resistance to bringing her home. They could rebuild elsewhere if Chicago wasn't enough for them, and he had no problem with supporting her through this newest complication. He just wanted her back, safe and relatively unscathed. Because Byer likely had her, he doubted she'd be unharmed in any way.

Finally, Aaron made a decision. He sent Nicky to bed and took over watching the hours of surveillance footage while Jason rested for a bit. Around midnight, Jason came back to the garage and kicked him to the bedroom for several hours of uninterrupted sleep. Landy and her team worked on the East Coast for them, and Aaron knew he could do nothing until that side of the intel came through. Their agreement with Landy meant they'd have to wait for her to arrive anyway. This delay was just another in an unavoidable line of them.

The phone call came mid-morning the next day. After hours of no information and no contact, Aaron physically jumped when the second burner phone on the shelf rang. It was a number he'd insisted Marta memorize months ago, one he'd set up in case they ever found themselves in a bind. The light chatter between Nicky and Jason, who worked well together now that they seemed to have resolved their issues, fell silent as Aaron reached for the phone. He punched the Answer button. "Yeah?"

"Aaron?" Marta's voice shook slightly, and he put the phone on speaker.

"I'm here." He tried to sound as "normal" as possible. "What's going on?"

"Uh. . . ." She hesitated, and he heard a whisper in the background. "I'm okay," she said when she finally spoke, sounding as if she were quoting what someone else told her. She rattled off an address back in Chicago, the warehouse district, and ended with, "You have twenty-four hours to appear unarmed before things get worse."

Aaron nodded, understanding what "getting worse" would entail. As it were, he could hear the slight lisp in Marta's speech that indicated she'd been beaten. His blood boiled at the thought that anyone would lay a hand on her, and he silently vowed to kill the man responsible. "I'll be there," he assured her in a warm tone.

"And Aaron? Would you feed the cat before you come? I forgot to put down extra food when I left." The phone line went dead before he could respond.

Nicky blinked. "Cat?"

Aaron glared. "Prearranged code. She's been kidnapped and is in danger. We're walking into a trap."

Nicky went back to her computer. "But we have an address. That means we can plan something."

Aaron turned to Jason. "Call Landy. Tell her we need that backup she promised."

Once again, Jason wandered off with his phone glued to his ear. As he spoke with Landy, Aaron started going through the workshop, gathering everything they might need. The phone Marta had called went into his pocket. He also gathered up the computers and weapons, stuffing them into bags and packing up the remains of their presence.

Jason finally returned. "Landy will be in Chicago in three hours with teams ready to mobilize." He met Aaron's eyes. "She knows the stakes and knows what our priorities are."

"Good." Aaron nodded. He tossed Jason the keys. "You're driving."

Jason caught the keys and tucked them into his pocket. The trio gathered up any sign that they'd been there, whether trash or food, and shoved it in the trash can. The back of the car was filled with computer equipment, Bluetooth headsets, and the one burner phone that Jason used to contact Landy. Aaron kept the one that Marta had called him on, making a mental note to buy three new ones when they arrived in Chicago. He and his team needed to communicate.

They left Bloomington, going back the way they'd come in silence. This time, Jason drove and Nicky sat up front, leaving the back seat for Aaron to stretch out in and prepare. Ever since inviting Jason into his home, he'd wondered how this friendship would work out. Now, he knew. He was in trouble, and Jason was there to help. He'd happily return the favor if the day ever came, and he refused to consider that it would come without Marta. He would get her back. And, when he did, he would not let her go.

oOo

Nicky sat in silence, laptop over her knees and closed, for the entire trip back to Chicago. She glanced at Jason, seeing the utter focus on his face and remembering the trip from Spain to Tangier. The operative was back, a man she knew better than he knew himself and someone she was comfortable seeing. But it wasn't what she wanted. She wanted the semi-openness they'd shared a few nights ago when she appeared at the guest house.

A quick glance in the backseat told her Aaron was lost in thought. While he might hear everything that happened in the car, it wouldn't really register unless she brought up one of the names that occupied all of their minds. Turning to Jason, she spoke softly. "How are the headaches?"

Jason's eyes slanted her way and then back to the road. "They're fine." Then, he sighed. "Had a pretty bad one last night."

Nicky took a risk and reached out to touch his hand. She'd done this many times before he lost his memory, and the simple contact seemed to be all he needed to remember he wasn't alone. Unlike Aaron, who seemed to touch almost everyone in some way, Jason had always been a bit standoffish and confused by the Outcome agent's obviously tactile nature. Now, as she slipped her hand across the dry, rough surface of Jason's palm, she saw the way he frowned at her actions and then laced their fingers together. It warmed her heart when he held her hand like this, reminding her of a time she'd thought in the past. She looked back at him, seeing the way he watched her, and offered a smile. The grin she got in response was enough for now.

The rest of their allotted twenty-four hours was spent either traveling or preparing for the mission. Jason held Nicky's hand all the way into Chicago, letting go only when he needed. Once they reached the city limits, Aaron started showing more signs of awareness. He ran a hand over his face as Jason drove directly to the CIA field office. Once there, Nicky felt all of her issues with the CIA come roaring into the present and pushed them away. She could worry about that later.

Landy met them at the door, offering a hand to shake to each of them. The older woman's face was lined in new places, and gray touched her blond hair more now than it had in the past. Nicky had always appreciated Landy's respect for her position in Treadstone, however, and she found herself relaxing the longer she was there.

After their initial greetings, Landy led the trio to a crisis suite where an entire team working to track Marta's location. Aaron explained the code he and Marta had set up and what it meant, and Landy simply pointed as one tech started working to get what information they could on the safe house. A surveillance team had been dispatched to the compound and returned with footage of the warehouse. The security was tight, and simply getting into the place would be tricky. Jason and Aaron looked over a tech's shoulder as they set up a way to hack Byer's security system. Through it all, Landy watched from a distance, content to let Aaron and Jason make suggestions and hover as long as they didn't interrupt normal operations. Nicky idly wondered if part of Landy's reasons was how jumpy the techs became with the Jason Bourne behind them, but she quickly dismissed that thought. Landy was too professional and respectful of others.

Finally, the tech sat back in the chair a self-satisfied smirk on her face. "I'm in."

Aaron moved across the room in a heartbeat. The feed had been shifted to one of the large screens on the wall. It displayed multiple cameras, and Nicky quickly found the four that showed Marta ziptied to a chair. Aaron growled under his breath when he saw the bruises on her face, and Nicky suddenly had the urge to scoot away from the angry operative. Several of the techs actually did shift their positions. She wanted to feel sorry for the poor schmuck that stood in Aaron's way, but she couldn't bring herself to that level of compassion. These people had kidnapped one of her only friends.

Between the cameras and the systems that Landy's team managed to hack, they were able to formulate a plan. They printed a copy of the blueprints, providing them with much-needed information. The "warehouse" wasn't so isolated or run-down as they'd thought. The inside walls had been reinforced with concrete and steel, and getting in and out would be doable but not the easiest thing they'd done. The place was a maze, deliberately designed so that someone unfamiliar with the building would get lost and go in circles. It would take someone on this end guiding them to get to Marta even with the schematics memorized. Aaron had been in enough of these places to know how different things looked once inside.

Then, the tech hacking the database cursed. The team turned to frown at him, and he shrugged. "I hit a firewall. I can get around it, but it'll take time. And they'll likely know I'm there."

Landy sighed. "You sure?"

"Yes, ma'am." The tech held up his hands helplessly. "The only way to get the information there without tipping them off to the fact I'm in their systems is to download it at a terminal in their network. As it is, they could find me at any moment."

Landy let out a deep breath. "So, this has turned into more than an extraction."

Aaron ran a hand over his face. "I'll go in and get Marta." Seeing Landy's doubtful look, he glared. "Try and stop me. Besides," he continued with a slight shake of his head, "she called me. Byer expects me to show up. I'll be the distraction by appearing at the right time and get Marta out. Bourne goes in the back and gets the intel. Your teams provide even more distraction and backup once we're in."

Landy thought over the plan then nodded. "Okay. Nicky and I will coordinate from here." She turned to Jason. "I believe she was your handler in Paris?"

Nicky shared a long look with Jason, one laden with meaning, before Jason agreed with a nod.

Landy sighed again. "Good. Then get some rest. We've got a long day ahead of us."

Nicky turned back to the screen, her eyes drawn to the sight of her friend. Marta appeared to have passed out, and she'd been left alone. But Nicky saw how Marta shivered slightly, saw her bare feet and the blood around the zip ties. Aaron was going to murder the man responsible for this.

A hand slipped onto her shoulder, startling her. She turned as Jason squeezed gently, offering yet another smile. Nicky nodded, not needing words to get the message. Jason had always communicated like this before, and it warmed her heart to finally understand a bit more of the man he was now. When they got Marta back, she intended to sit with him and tell him everything: how they met, where they first realized they cared for one another, their first night together—no details, of course—and anything to help jog his memory. Perhaps if she was patient rather than pouty like before, she would find a way to love this new Jason as much as she'd loved the old one.

At the time set for the men to leave, Nicky tucked her headset into her ear so she could stay in contact with them. As Landy started ordering her teams into place to prepare for the op, Nicky called for Aaron. "Bring her home," she said softly. "And be careful. Both of you."

Aaron offered her a tired nod, mouthing what looked like the word "okay." Jason simply held her gaze for a touch longer and then disappeared out the door. With a group other than her friends for the first time in three days, Nicky let out a deep breath. And waited.

~TBC