A/N: so, yeah, this was supposed to be posted yesterday, which obviously didn't happen. Sorry. Really, I am. I fully intended to post, but my parents leaving the house, the animals and myself(Not to mention my elder brother and his friend) in my not so capable hands kind of had me distracted. But it's here! I know it's short, and there was something I wanted to add, but it was such a good stopping place! So please, please, don't be mad!

How about to make up for it, I start posting Pro Patria Mori on Fridays? When I don't have a one-shot or something for TDDUP to post, anyways?

Yeah, Pro Patria Mori won the poll on my profile hands down. I guess you guys really like SAS fics, huh? The good news on that fic is that I already have 15 chapters written. (Actually, that's pretty pathetic seeing as how I started it about the same time as Perfectly Normal, but in my defence I have lost it more times than I can count!)

So yeah, I think I've babbled on enough... here's the chapter!

DISCLAIMER: Nothing belongs to me.

Steve wasn't dead. Alex had been so relieved when Yassen and Wolf had reassured him.

Then he had learned what had happened.

Steve had been at the back of the group and taken a bullet in the hip. When Tom was helping him run, he had taken another in the leg. They had sewn up the wounds, fixed the damage as best as they could, but they had no medical equipment, no anaesthetic, no antibiotics, no specialised stitches, just thread and a heated needle. It wasn't even properly sterilised. The chances of infection were exceedingly high, and Steve would have to fight it off on his own.

So far, there was no sign of infection, but the nurses were scared that he could go into shock from the continuous pain and the high blood loss. They couldn't even give him a transfusion, not having the equipment or information on his blood type.

Alex found Graham sitting on a mattress beside Steve. The injured man was unconscious and ghostly white. There was a bandage wrapped tightly around his left leg, just above his knee, and another one around his hips. They weren't as crisp and white as the bandages from hospital would be, but they looked clean, at least. They could only hope it would be enough.

Alex sat down on the next mattress over, his knees just a few inches from Graham's, and reached out to rub the man's shoulder comfortingly.

"Steve's strong," he said, quietly. "He'll pull through."

Graham looked up, fear and pain obvious on his face. "I can't lose him, Al," he whispered brokenly. "He's always been there – through everything."

"He'll be ok," said Alex, fixing his eyes intensely on Graham, as if he could force the man to believe him through the force of his gaze alone. "We may not have medical equipment, but we have nurses. They have one patient to care for and nothing else to distract them. We're not going to let him go yet.

Graham nodded miserably and Alex pulled him into a hug. Screw the rules of espionage. Graham needed this.

The soldier buried his head in Alex's shoulder and sobbed.

Despite his best intentions, Alex still found Mathew Starbright could make him angry no matter what. The man knew exactly what buttons to press, playing off Alex's old teenage insecurities, insecurities that he thought he had grown out of in the last two years, but apparently not. It was three days later when Alex had sat him down, in private and confronted him.

"I know you don't like me," said Alex. "Hell, if I were you, I wouldn't like me either. But we have to work together and we don't have time for your childish temper tantrums."

"Temper tantrums?" exclaimed Mathew, outraged.

"Prove me wrong," said Alex. "Prove to me it's deliberate and premeditated – that you're not completely out of control and a liability."

"How do I do that?" asked Mathew, his eyes narrowing.

"You prove you can control them – you stop."

"So either way I stop," sneered Matt. "Can't take a few home truths, Rider?"

"Either that or I just beat it out of you," said Alex carelessly. Mathew's mouth snapped shut.

Alex waited for a minute, but nothing was forthcoming.

"Great," he said, smiling, "Now that we've got that out of the way, let's get down to business, shall we?"

"What business?" asked Mathew, his face blank.

"We didn't come here because you're head of the resistance," said Alex quietly. "We're here because you designed the American security system and we need a way in – to stop the launch of nuclear missiles."

Mathew blanched.

"Christ," he whispered, all the usual antagonism vanishing from his tone. "You really think they will?"

"MI6 do," said Alex, grimly. "Is there a way?"

Matt slowly shook his head. "I don't think so," he said, sighing. "I covered every eventuality I could."

"What about cutting the power? Or a backdoor? A password? Anything!"

Matt shook his head. "No. The power has a dozen backup generators, all in completely secure locations themselves and I was employed to get rid of backdoors! The only way to access it completely is to have the key card and the sixteen digit password which only three people know. The fingerprint scanner is only if you are launching the missiles so you don't need to worry about that, but still!"

"You said completely," said Alex.

"Incomplete it just used for people in the FBI and CIA to insert data and such; it's on a completely different level to the weapons."

"So no way in there then," said Alex with a scowl. "What about changing the fingerprint?" he asked. "Are there any fail safes in case it needs to be changed without the previous prints?"

"Of course," said Matt.

"And what is that?" asked Alex.

"All three people have their prints scanned and recorded," said Matt. "If you need to change one without the previous prints, the other two prints must be used."

"Who are the other two prints?" asked Alex, cautiously.

Matt spread his hands helplessly. "Before... it was Bryne and... what's-his-name... the vice-president."

"Faulkner," supplied Alex curtly, raising an eyebrow in disbelief that Matt actually couldn't remember.

"That's the one," said Matt.

"And have they changed?" asked Alex.

"I would assume that Bryne has gone. The man was replaced, after all."

"And Faulkner?" enquired Alex.

"Not a clue," said Matt. "I know he kept his job – mainly by keeping his head down and giving in to that psycho."

Matt stared at the calculating expression that had suddenly overtaken Alex's face.

"What are you planning?" he asked warily.

"We need to get our hands on the vice-president," said Alex, calmly.

"And how exactly are you going to do that?" sneered Matt. "Just walk up and ask politely?"

"Of course!" grinned Alex. "And when that doesn't work... we'll kidnap him."

A/N I did warn you about the pathetic length. Sorry. But yeah review and tell me what you thought, anyway! Any suggestions on how Alex should kidnap the vice president? Lol.

Anyway, I am going to sleep because I plan on being at the gym for half six tomorrow morning. (I'm not entirely sure why. My body is still punishing me for Monday. Ah well.)

Night!

And don't forget... REVIEW!