THUD.

SMACK.

CRACK.

It happened so quickly that Zane couldn't even say what he'd seen, but two of the three soldiers were down on the ground, one on all fours, retching, the second curled up around his groin, gasping in agony. The third man had one arm twisted up behind his back, his face twisted in a rictus as he arched onto his tiptoes to try to relieve the pain.

"Not too hard, Amy," Jo cautioned, leaning over one of the men on the ground and taking his weapon from him with practiced ease. "We don't want permanent damage."

"What the hell, lady?" The standing soldier grunted the words as Jo moved to disarm the still writhing soldier. "You can't do that!"

"It's done." She straightened, a gun in either hand, her expression grim, determined.

Zane couldn't stop his grin. Damn, but Jo was hot when she was ferocious. He'd never really liked Lupo when she had her stern face on. He preferred the aggravated, fuming Jo, about to lose her cool. Well, or the softer, warmer Jo that he'd only seen a few times, like when she took his side after Alison stole the TAP fluid for Kevin's rocket and nearly blew up the town. Still, kickass Jo when the toughness was directed at someone other than him stirred thoughts he really shouldn't be thinking.

"Mama!" Little Caitie burst into tears and leaned away from him and toward Jo, her arms outstretched. "Mama, Mama. Now, Mama, now."

Zane bit back the laugh and held the squirming toddler a little tighter. Apparently he wasn't the only one who wanted Jo. Jo's grim look disappeared, replaced by a hint of panic as she looked down at the guns in her hands and back at Little Caiti.

"Not right now, Caiti," Zane said soothingly. "Mommy's armed and dangerous. She'll snuggle with you as soon as she takes care of the bad guys."

"Bad guys?" protested the soldier who was still on his feet with Amy twisting his arm behind his back. "Who are you people?"

"Wrong word choice," Zane said hastily, patting Little Caiti on the back to calm her. "Sorry. No offense intended."

"Did you just apologize to a guy in uniform, Donovan?" Jo asked, voice dry, as she efficiently ejected the bullets from one of the guns and stashed it behind her back. "Unlike you."

Zane lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Parenthood. It's making me more responsible by the minute." He ought to hate it, he supposed. He ought to be remembering the joys of being a free man, responsible to no one but himself. But it was hard to think clearly back to that time, with Little Caiti in his arms and Big Caiti leaning against his leg, both of them with thumbs in their mouths.

Pointing her remaining weapon at the standing soldier, Jo said, "On your knees, then face-down on the ground." In seconds, all three soldiers were disarmed and down, the one who'd been hit in the groin still moaning softly. Jo never looked away from them, her grim expression back.

"Did you see me, Dad?" Amy bubbled over with enthusiasm. "I've never really hit for reals before, only sparred, but Mom always said the secret was to imagine punching bags that would punch back if I didn't hit hard enough. I did good, though, didn't I? That was fun!" As she took in Jo's expression and Zane's silence, the bubbles slowed. "It's okay, isn't it? I did okay?"

"Yes, of course," Zane answered her. But was it? It was one thing to take out the soldiers for the moment, but long-term, they needed two more days in 1947. How were they going to stay undercover until then?

"You did great, Amy." Jo reassured the teenager, but as she looked at Zane, he could see his thoughts reflected in her bleak eyes. "What next?" she asked him, her voice holding a note of uncertainty.

Zane scowled, scratching his stubble with his free hand as he thought. Why hadn't he planned for this? The box of supplies hadn't contained any handy handcuffs or even plain rope to tie the soldiers up. Not that keeping them prisoner would be easy, but what alternative did they have?

Ah, of course. He stepped forward, starting to disentangle Little Caiti from where she was locked around his waist and neck. "Let's trade. Give me the gun and you take the kids downstairs. I'll take care of these guys."

Jo's hand tightened on the gun as her eyes widened. "Excuse me? What does that mean?"

"Just give me the gun, Jo," he said impatiently. "Leave it to me."

Jo glanced at the standing kids. "Amy, take Caiti—both Caitis—downstairs," she ordered.

Amy looked between both parents. Maybe she recognized Jo's tension, because she stepped forward and scooped the littler Caiti out of Zane's arms. "Come on, Caiti," she said, putting her hand on the bigger Caiti's head and turning toward the bunker's door.

"No," Little Caiti wailed. "I want Mama, I do." Big Caiti's lower lip slid out in a suspicious pout.

"Hush and let Mi-mi take care of you. Mama has to work now, but we found candy bars. You can share one." Amy moved away with the mostly unresisting Caitis, disappearing down the bunker steps.

"Give me the gun, Jo, and you go, too," Zane said. "I'll take care of this."

Jo stared at him, her brown eyes unreadable. She licked her lips. "Zane…"

"What is it?" he asked, turning to consider the soldiers. The one Amy had nailed in the nuts was still in pain. He might not mind being put out of his misery.

"I know there's a lot at stake here." Jo sounded as if she were picking her words with care. "I get that, I do. But these guys were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. They haven't done anything wrong."

The other guy had a bloody nose, probably broken, probably from a hard knee to the nose as he was going down after she kicked him in the stomach. It would be a dead giveaway that he'd been in a fight. But maybe that could be useful.

"Come on, Jo, the sooner this is done the better. We've got a time limit here." Zane held out his hand for the gun, still contemplating the soldiers.

"We've got two whole days left. There's no reason to make hasty decisions."

Number three, the leader, was uninjured. In the bunker, he'd seemed both sympathetic and smart, the decision maker for the team.

"We're talking the future of the world, maybe the universe, remember?" Zane said the words to Jo, but he watched the soldiers as he did so. From his prone position on the ground, the sergeant's head turned, his eyes focusing on Zane, his glare deepening. Yeah, Zane decided, he'd target the sergeant first.

"Yeah, but…" Jo sighed. When she spoke again, the words were abrupt, her voice stronger. "No. I can't let you do it. I'm sorry, Zane, but it's not worth it."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know it sucks but it's not like it's our first time on this merry-go-round. We're just going to have to try again. Another twenty years, maybe we'll come up with a better plan."

"Another twenty—" Zane stepped away from her in disbelief. "No way. If we don't solve it this time, those kids—" He pointed toward the bunker, and with an emphatic shake of his finger, added, "—our kids—might never exist. We screw this up and we might not get them back. I'm not taking that chance."

Jo pressed her lips together. "I'm sorry, Zane," she said, the guns steady in her hands. "I'm not letting you kill these guys."

Zane stared at her.

A/N: This chapter is a gift for bbarton3, who followed this story this week despite the interminable interludes between chapters. I appreciate the show of faith and I hope you enjoy the chapter. :)