"I know what you're here for, Johnson, but I only agreed to meet you for one reason - to tell you to leave me and my men alone. We can't help you. No one can."

Steve's heart sank as heard Nowicki's words. Even though he had known there were no guarantees, he was sure that Nowicki would not have agreed to meet him unless he wanted to help. Steve had left his wife during a difficult time just to meet with the guy. And now Nowicki was telling him it was all for nothing.

Trying to control his temper, Steve downed his beer and glared at Nowicki. "You can't help me?" Steve hissed. "Why the hell did you drag me all the way to New York City if all you had to tell me was that you can't help me?"

Nowicki finished off his drink and signaled he waitress for another round before responding. "I agreed to meet you because it's pretty clear you can't take no for an answer. Roy Deakins is one of the best soldiers I've ever served with and, thanks to your little trip to his family reunion, he's spent more time worrying about trying to help 'Spooky' than doing his job."

The waitress arrived with their drinks and Nowicki told her to bring a couple of shots of whiskey the next time by. Once she was gone, Steve spoke again. "I'm sorry I've disrupted your unit, but I'd think that a man's freedom might be a little more important."

Nowicki shook his head. "You just don't get it, do you Johnson. My unit can't afford any distractions if we're going to do our jobs. And when we don't do our jobs, people die." He shot a pointed look at Steve. "You should know that better than anybody."

Steve took a deep breath and then downed the shot the waitress had placed in front of him. "I do understand that," he said more calmly. "But we both know that Donovan's getting a raw deal. He doesn't deserve to be going to prison."

Nowicki signaled for another round of shots and scoffed. "Of course he doesn't. But he knew the risks when he got involved with that mission."

Steve's eye widened. "We both know that's not true. Donovan thought he was getting involved to rescue me. Nobody told him that mission was planned for weeks before the ISA found out I was even there."

It was Nowicki's turn to look surprised. Then he dropped his head and drained his glass. "Deakins told you, huh? I guess I shouldn't be surprised by that."

"Yeah, he told me." Steve sensed an opening. "Shane wouldn't even be in this mess if the ISA hadn't decided they needed a fall guy. They set him up."

"Maybe so," Nowicki agreed before pinning a dangerous look on Steve. "But he wouldn't be the fall guy if you'd have kept your mouth shut." He smirked at Steve. "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who gave that story to the press."

Steve felt the air leave his body at Nowicki's remark. Putting away yet another shot, he felt the liquor burn down his throat as the guilt flooded him.

"Can't deny it, can you, Johnson?" Nowicki said. "You're the one that got Donovan in trouble and now you're trying to get me and my men to bail you out."

Steve leaned back slightly. "You want me to admit that I screwed up? Fine, I screwed up. Big time. And like I told Deakins, if I could trade places with Donovan right now, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I owe him that much and more." His voice softened slightly. "I know what it's liked to be locked up away from your family. The man doesn't deserve that."

Apparently, Steve's sincerity got through to Nowicki, whose posture relaxed slightly. "I'm sorry Donovan's in trouble. I really am. I like the man. But there is nothing I can do that won't destroy my unit - and that's something I won't do."

Steve slumped in his chair, trying to think of something to say or do to change Nowicki's mind. As they sat in silence, Nowicki signaled for another round.

After several minutes, Nowicki finally spoke again. "Look, Johnson. I know you want to help Donovan, and I understand why. But you need to face the fact that you can't beat the ISA on this one." He paused as the waitress set down the glasses, picked up his glass, and drained it. "Let Donovan take the plea deal and move on."

Steve's eye narrowed at Nowicki's slightly slurred words. "How the hell do you know about the plea deal?"

Nowicki shrugged. "That ISA Chief . . . Tarrington? He visited me about a week ago. The ISA knew about your little trip to Georgia and wanted to make it clear what would happen if anyone changed their mind about talking. I guess he's worried, so he told me Donovan has an out . . . that he could get out in three years." Nowicki leaned forward. "Then he reminded me that's two years less than any of my guys would get."

"It still doesn't make it right," Steve said.

Nowicki just laughed. "The ISA isn't about what is right or wrong. Especially when that bastard Tarrington is involved."

Steve's ears perked up at the disdain in Nowicki's voice. "I take it you don't like the guy either?"

"What's to like?" Nowicki snorted. "I had to sit there while he lectured me like a five-year-old. All I wanted to do was wipe that smug grin off his face." He raised his glass at Steve. "So I'm not lying when I say I want to help Donovan. Hell, if I could, I'd take out Tarrington and put Donovan in his place. At least, then, there'd be someone we could trust in charge. But there nothing I can do, Johnson . . . nothing."

Steve watched as Nowicki finished yet another shot. He felt bad for the captain. It was clear that he did not like what was going on and really hated being forced to go along with it. And as much as Steve wanted to, he could not blame Nowicki for refusing to get involved.

There just had to be a way. Nowicki was absolutely correct about Tarrington being smug. The man was just so sure that nobody could best him. But there just had to be a way.

After yet another round of shots down in silence, Nowicki stood unsteadily. "I wish I could say this had been fun, Johnson, but I'd be lying."

Steve grinned at Nowicki's slurred words. "I know what you mean, Captain."

Together they walked towards the front of the bar, with Nowicki nearly falling twice. By the time they reached the street, Steve knew that Nowicki was in no condition to find his way home by himself. Remembering what Deakins had said, Steve hailed a cab and poured Nowicki into it and then got in himself.

"Where are you going, Johnson?" Nowicki asked.

"I'm making sure you get home, you drunk bastard," Steve said. "I figure it's the least I owe you."

When they arrived at the hotel, Steve helped Nowicki out and with some effort got him through the lobby, into the elevator and into his room.

"You sure . . . sure hold your liquor a lot better than Donovan," Nowicki mumbled as Steve helped him to the bed.

Steve laughed at that. "Well, I probably have a lot more practice." He dropped Nowicki on the bed and turned to go. Steve hated the feeling of failure and helplessness that filled him. He had come to New York hoping to get a smoking gun, that key piece of evidence that would save Shane, and now Steve was going to go home empty-handed.

He took another look at the drunk soldier lying on the bed. Nowicki was still awake and watching Steve with a half-lidded gaze. Steve was filled with a mix of anger, frustration and pity. He understood Nowicki's dilemma, but it did not make things any better. Shane could still go to prison, and Steve was sure that Nowicki could help.

"I understand where you're coming from," Steve said as he headed for the door. "But there's got to be a way for the truth to come out without anyone going to prison. There's got to be a way to stop the ISA from getting away with this."

From the bed behind him, Steve heard a grunt and Nowicki's drunken voice. "You find a way to do that . . . 'n' stop those bastards . . . let me know. . . . see what I can do. . . ."

Steve felt a small smile play on his lips as he glanced back at the now passed-out soldier and felt a tiny bit of hope return. Steve had no idea what to do next, but there had to be a way. He just had to find it.