A/N: See prologue for general setting of the story and usual disclaimer. Thank you for reading and reviewing.

In Safety

Three days later

The conference room is spacious. At least 20 people could sit at the huge table save that there are only three people seated at the end of it right now. Her superior, Director Hines, plus – to his left and right side – another male respectively female she doesn't know. Gillian is seated at the opposite end. She has never been in here before. If the seating arrangements are meant to intimidate her, it is not working. Her absolute limit for anything has increased of late. In fact, she is everything but intimidated. Disappointed, angry, confused. You name it.

It's been three days that Cal and she fought for their survival in prison and she hasn't seen him since, hasn't heard a word from him. Gillian is aware that it was a wild guess to assume that he would stay in contact with her afterwards, no matter how close they were when it all happened. Extreme situations have that effect. They create a closeness that is necessary to survive but quickly fades as soon as things get back to normal. Except that it felt different with him – real despite the surreal circumstances. Nevertheless, it was an extreme situation and her imagination could have been playing tricks on her.

There is no Cal Lightman in the e-mail distribution list and his name in the register of the library is just that – a name. No address, no phone number, no nothing. There is no way she could contact him. Of course not. He is an undercover agent and not supposed to be found easily. Her contact details, however, are in the distribution list; plus, she has an office here. It would have been easy for him to find her if he had wanted to. The fact that he didn't show up, didn't call or mail her, proves the obvious. Their assignment is over and so is whatever she mistakenly thought had started between them. Considering what happened, it would be appropriate for her to be in a state of shock. All she is able to feel, though, is loss. Gillian can't understand how she could be so wrong. Disappointed, angry, confused. His absence in her life shouldn't mean that much to her, but it does. You don't choose who you...

"Dr. Foster?" Hines addresses her, not for the first time judging by the tone of his voice. "Let's go through the events of the riot and your rescue. OK?" He nods at her encouragingly and she reminds herself that this is standard procedure. He needs it for the final report.

The questions hail down on her steadily, but the interview is not as unpleasant as she thought it would be. Contrary to the tense atmosphere when she entered the room, neither questions nor questioners seem to aim at criticizing her or Cal's actions. It is simply an enumeration of what, when, how.

So you and the undercover agent were in the office of the prison psychologist when the riot started?

- Yes.

Gillian expects them to ask her about everything that happened, but they don't. They merely ask about specifics, such as Cal getting rid off his handcuffs, and she realizes that they must have taken his statement first. It stings her. Another proof that he was in the same building at some point, could have made contact with her and didn't.

And he pretended to assail you in order to stop another prisoner from raping you?

- Yes.

That's when he tore your blouse apart that was found in the office?

- Yes.

But the attack happened with your consent?

- Yes.

It is surprisingly easy to talk about that part because the imminent threat of the situation does no longer exist. Albeit it was a horrible experience, she will always be grateful that Cal protected her. The way he did it might sound strange to someone who wasn't there and can't comprehend the hopelessness that caused him to do it. When Gillian thinks of it, though, she doesn't remember an attack, she remembers how Cal put himself as a living barrier between her and a dangerous man who wanted to do her harm. Everything else is of no relevance.

The questions briefly linger over their walk through the demolished hallway and the dead guard they stumbled upon until they get to the last part. Her rescue or whatever you want to call it. She still hasn't figured it out herself. Gillian considered to talk to Hines about it in private before the interview, but instinct told her not to do it. Therefore, she has to find out what to tell and what not as the interview goes along. This is aggravated by the fact that this is the part of the story Cal couldn't put on record beforehand or only to some extent. They already know about the mysterious man in the ventilation shaft though.

Do you know who the man in the vent was who rescued you?

- No.

He didn't give you a name?

- No.

Where did he come from?

- I have no idea.

Can you describe him?

- Late twenties. Tall. Trim. Dark, wavy hair.

Hines asked most of the earlier questions but leaves it to his company to ask her about that part while he busies himself taking notes, politely ignoring her most of the time. When she describes the man, he looks up, though, and from the meaningful look he gives her, she assumes it's better to leave it at that.

Gillian could have said more, could describe the man in every detail. The man who appeared in the vent out of nowhere had blue eyes, a three-day-old-beard, and nicely curved lips. As weird as the thought was, given the situation, she considered him good-looking, albeit somewhat boyish, and clung to the hope that a man with his rather innocent appearance wouldn't harm her. After he had sneaked up on her and had made sure she wouldn't give away his presence, he made non-verbally clear that he wanted her to move over so that he could take her place so that he was able to observe what was going on in the storage room. Save that there was no room left to move over and she ended up pressing her back against the wall of the vent as he lay right beside her, his left arm basically stuck between her breasts. The forced, close proximity gave her the opportunity to memorize his features whereas he didn't even seem to notice their weird position, completely focused on the men below. That's when she realized he was a professional.

"Probably was one of the guards," Hines states casually in contrast, seemingly preoccupied in thoughts as he takes more notes. It tells Gillian all she needs to know.

It is a convenient explanation. No jail guard reported that he saved her, but five guards were killed and her rescuer could be one of them. It's a good cover story. And a lie. That man was no guard. He was dressed in black, didn't wear a uniform. Let alone that a guard wouldn't have saved Cal, too. If Hines brings it up, he must have checked that there is, indeed, a body that matches her description. At least remotely. There is always the possibility to attribute variations to her state of shock and confusion. Gillian doesn't know why Hines has to keep the role of the man and his role as string-puller a secret. Whilst taking into account that he obviously is responsible for her and Cal's survival, she won't throw him to the wolves.

Interesting how fast lines can blur. Under different, normal, circumstances she would have never considered lying to be an option. Here and now, it almost seems to be the logical continuation of the fake life she shared with Cal that only existed between those prison walls. In there, it was only the two of them trying to survive, and out here, it suddenly feels as if things haven't changed much. There is a secret around their rescue Hines doesn't want to share, and knowing him, she knows he does it for good reason. So she will stick to the cover story that it was a deceased guard who saved her and skip the rest, hoping that Hines' reaction will help her through the tricky part because she has no idea what Cal told them how he got out. Maybe she is lucky and they don't even ask her about it.

As it is, Gillian focuses on the absolutely necessary facts. There was a man in the vent with her. He showed her the escape path through it. It ended somewhere at the back of the building. The man removed the grille so that she could climb down. There was an empty parking lot; she saw police cars and ambulances in the distance. When she turned around, the man was gone and she approached the flickering lights in the distance.

Her detached words are like a censored movie, showing only the images she allows to be shown. That last image of her, standing in that forlorn place, staring at the flickering lights that represented life and safety, bring back the actual memories. She wasn't alone there. It was the last time she saw Cal. Gillian's memory convulses and pushes her back to the moment when her alleged rescue started. Save that it wasn't a happy coincidence; there was no heroic guard. She and Cal were exfiltrated in a professional, meticulously planned way.

Flashback

Gillian feels dizzy and concentrates on her breathing. Things will get on top of her if she won't manage to calm down, physical effort and emotional drain taking a toll on her. For a moment, she focuses on nothing but that, just breathes in and out, tries to fight trepidation as best as she can given their claustrophobic surroundings.

The man has taken her place, lying face down in the vent so that he can observe Cal and the prisoners through the ventilation grille. Pressed sideways, Gillian doesn't have a good look anymore, but she is still able to make Cal out. He took several hits and groans with pain; there is blood on his face and overall. Cal keeps his self-defense to a minimum, fends off only the worst blows. Anything to protect his cover. The average criminal does not have training in close combat. Therefore he can't use his abilities to their full extent. Cal's groans go right through Gillian; it pains her to see him like this. He helped her when she was in danger, and here she is, helplessly having to watch his physical abuse.

I'm here to bring you to safety.

That's what the man said to her. Then why are they still here? Why doesn't the man do anything to help Cal?

Only now, she has a closer look at him. Gillian interpreted his words as confirmation that he would bring her and Cal to safety whereas he didn't necessarily mean that. Since he is wearing no orange overall, her subconsciousness automatically gave her an all-clear signal, the mere knowledge that he is no prisoner and that his presence doesn't mean more danger such a relief that she forgot to ask the crucial question. Who is he? He is dressed in black from head to toe. No one in here is dressed that way. Not the guards, not the other employees. Something starts to tingle in the back of Gillian's mind. Then he starts to speak. At first she thinks he is talking to her before she perceives that he has one of those in-ear headphones and is talking to someone else. His words make no sense until their meaning starts to sink in. Then they make her shudder.

"Target A is with me. Visual on Target B. Cover not compromised. Awaiting orders."

Gillian knows two things for sure now. For one thing, the man is aware who Cal and she are. His presence is no coincidence; he is here on purpose. For another thing, the man might help them; he doesn't actually care about their well-being though. Instead, she and Cal are at his mercy. If he will save one or both of them, he will do so because that's what he was ordered to do. An order that might be revoked any minute, leaving the question who is giving him orders.

"Who are you? Who sent you? Who are you talking to?" It probably would be wiser to remain silent, but hearing Cal suffer lets Gillian's patience snap. She throws all caution to the wind, having difficulties to keep her voice down. If it hadn't been for the hitting and grunting below, the prisoners might have heard her.

The man's reaction is quick and relentless. His left arm pins her even more to the wall, pushing the air out of her lungs hereby. He looks her straight in the eye, his boyish features suddenly gone. All Gillian sees is cold determination and professional detachment. Then he smiles frostily.

"Sh," he hushes her, putting his finger against his lips as if she was an upset child and he needed to calm her. "Just let me do my job and you'll be out of here soon."

As if she cared about getting out without Cal. Gillian hears the prisoners laughing. Out of the corner of her eye she sees how Cal collapses and falls to the ground after another round of blows.

"Please. Help him," she breathes, but the man already has turned his attention away from her back to the scenery below where another prisoner has entered the room.

The group dynamics change. The newly arrived prisoner seems to be the one in charge, sending the others out of the room so that it's only him and Cal. Cal addresses him as Donny. The name sounds familiar and Gillian remembers that he is the prisoner Cal received the needed information from. The information he passed on to his contact. She tenses even more. This is not good.

"Sorry for the inconveniences," she hears Donny say with a false politeness that makes her flesh crawl. "They were supposed to find you. The rest was just for fun. Didn't tell them to beat you up. I do not approve uncalled-for violence."

Cal mumbles something in response she can't understand. Uncalled-for violence...This is the man who gave the kill order for the rookie dealer that poached in his territory. One of undoubtedly many cases in which he considered violence called for.

The whispered voice of the man next to her diverts her attention. "Contact person arrived. Cover possibly compromised." His voice is faintly audible as he updates the person at the other end of the line. At the same time, he pulls something out of his jacket, something small and grayish that he points at the men below through the bars of the ventilation grille. A gun.

Oh God! That changes everything. Does he intend to kill Cal or use it to protect him? Gillian doesn't know what to do. It is futile to ask. The man made it quite clear that he won't tell her anything. If she screams and warns Cal, it will be too late, anyway. As if things couldn't get worse, she sees how the prisoner, Donny, also points a gun at Cal.

"Please. Don't. Kill him." Gillian isn't aware that she is talking in a whisper until she hears the words repeated over and over, erasing every other thought. She doesn't even know who she is talking to – the prisoner or the man next to her.

Please. Don't. Kill him.

"The son of a friend was taken into custody," Donny says. "Just after I told you some stuff about him. Kind of a coincidence, huh?" He cocks the gun.

Please. Don't. Kill him.

"Target B. Code Red." Gillian is barely aware of the man next to her talking and receiving orders. All she sees is Cal. His mouth moves in an effort to convince Donny that he had nothing to do with the arrest, his hands and body language underlining his story, albeit she is not able to hear, let alone understand, the words. Nothing that happens makes any sense. Out of nowhere, the question crosses her mind what day it is. Monday? Tuesday? When does she have to pick up her laundry from the dry cleaning store? Her synapses are firing random ideas at her to occupy her mind so that she doesn't lose it. "Copy that." More words that make no sense, coming from the man next to her this time.

Pleasedon'tkillhim

She doesn't even hear the shot. Later, Gillian realizes that he must have used a silencer. Then and there, she only realizes that something happened when she sees the orange overall sway and fall to the ground. The world is spinning. Her body convulses, equally in shock and in an effort to free herself, but the man keeps her pinned to the wall for a bit longer until he releases the pressure so that she can move. Or could move if there was space. The man quietly removes the ventilation grille, and with the grille gone, Gillian finally is able to take a look. A pool of blood appears around Donny's head, a small entry wound on his forehead the only indication that it was no accident. His death was quick, precisely executed.

"Cal," she half-shouts, half-whispers.

If he is surprised that Donny is dead or that there is a man in the vent with her, Cal doesn't let it show. It's probably not the first time things like that happen during one of his undercover missions.

"Gillian? Are you ok?"

"Yes." Not exactly. But he is alive, they both are. Nothing else matters.

After the tense waiting there is only movement now.

"Go." The man pushes Gillian, indicating that she is supposed to crawl down the ventilation shaft.

She assures herself that Cal will follow and then starts on her weird journey, making room for him to climb in. They make their way through the ventilation system one after the after. Gillian first, Cal last, the man between them. It is exhausting to move forward in this confined space but eventually they reach another ventilation grille. The man squeezes himself into the non-existent room next to her and pushes it open. Obviously that's the way he came in and made sure they had an exit.

At first Gillian thinks they are still in the building because all she sees is black. Then she realizes that it must have gotten dark outside. She has no idea how much time has passed but considering that Cal was her last appointment in the afternoon, it must be sometime at night. The ventilation shaft seems to have ended in some kind of backyard of the prison. The opening is approximately six or seven feet aboveground; she lowers herself down with her legs first. Under different circumstances, she would have worried about falling and hurting herself. As it is, all she wants is to get out of this space that makes it difficult for her to breathe, away from that man who killed someone in cold blood and whose physical closeness sickens her.

She has almost made it when two hands grab her. Gillian screams and starts fighting whoever it is, hearing Cal shout her name in the background.

"Dr. Foster." A male voice in the dark. No one fights back, and only now, she realizes that those hands didn't attack her but helped her down. There are no streetlights but when she takes a closer look, she recognizes him in spite of the darkness. It's Hines, her superior. "I'm glad you're ok," he says.

Is she? Gillian doesn't know, can't think straight. What is he doing here? Will it ever stop?

"What happened?" It seems to be the only logical thing to ask. Can someone please explain everything to her so that it makes sense?

At least to some extent, he can. "A riot. Caused by a feud between two inmates. It had nothing to do with the assignment, but I needed to make sure that you got out."

"Did you sent this man?" Gillian knows that he got out right behind her, followed by Cal, but when she turns around, only Cal is standing there.

"You should let yourself get checked out," Hines tells Gillian, ignoring her question. "There are ambulances waiting over there." He points at flickering lights in the distance. After a pause, he adds, "Probably better not to mention that you saw me here. Sorry, there's no time to discuss a cover story." Hines turns around to Cal. "We have to go."

There are still many questions unanswered. However, the basics are clear. Hines sent that man to save her and Cal. For whatever reason he has to keep it a secret.

It's cold and raining. Barefoot and wearing only a skirt and Cal's shirt, Gillian freezes bitterly. She wouldn't mind to stay in the cold a bit longer, though, if it allowed her a moment alone with Cal. He was with her the entire time. He saved her life and she feared he would lose his. They deserve a moment of peace. Cal has gotten closer during her talk with Hines. Now that he received his orders to leave with him, she can tell that he doesn't want to go, but there is not much he can do. He's still on a mission and orders are orders.

"Go to the ambulance before you freeze to death," he says concerned, holding her hand briefly before he has to let go.

Gillian watches the two men walk away, being swallowed by darkness, before she walks off in the opposite direction. She feels like in trance. The random thought crosses her mind that she needs to call Alec so that he won't worry. Then she remembers that she has no fiancé anymore. No one knows she is here. No one will be waiting for her at home. She walks on, wiping raindrops off her face until she realizes that it is not raining anymore. She is crying.

Present

In the end, they didn't ask a lot of questions as if they, too, just wanted it to be over. Hines subtly intervened whenever Gillian's story threatened to contradict Cal's earlier statement. The guard must have gone back after he got her out. That's when he got killed. The undercover agent also used the ventilation shaft as an exit route without the guard, or her, recognizing. That's what Cal told them and that's what she confirmed. A story full of holes but waterproof as long as no one casted doubt on it.

In between, Gillian asked about the woman Cal and she'd had to leave behind. The number of persons killed and injured had been confirmed, but the names hadn't been published so that she didn't know whether there was a woman among them or not. They told her that, yes, one woman had been part of the staff, a cook maid, and no, unfortunately she hadn't made it, had been attacked and killed by a prisoner. Gillian didn't ask about details; she didn't need to. In a way it felt as if that woman had died in her stead. Maybe they could have saved her if they had gone back to take her with them, maybe they would have been too late one way or the other and it only would have gotten them killed, too. Let alone that Hines' escort service would have never allowed them to go back. Still, it will haunt her forever.

"Thank you for your statement, Dr. Foster," Hines closes the interview.

Hines watches Gillian walk out. She did a good job. He had worried that she'd blow the cover story, however couldn't risk to get in contact with her beforehand. Being there in the backyard of the prison was risky enough, but he had to be there, had to make sure that they got out safely after he just had lost another agent. Nevertheless, he needs to avoid being linked to their rescue at all costs because he'd had no official approval to go through with it and his superiors don't appreciate being disregarded. There will be consequences if they find out. So he'd had no alternative but to trust in Dr. Gillian Foster's special skills regarding reading people's voices and it worked. When he hinted at a guard being the one who had rescued her, she took the hint and reacted accordingly.

Sometimes things turn to good account despite the worst circumstances. The fact that Matthew Banida had been taken into custody had been more than bad timing. Yet, the high-level officials wanted to wait on Banida's release and upcoming second arrest before pulling out Cal. Hines knows, though, how fast rumors spread in prison. Throw in the riot as another unplanned extra and he is convinced Dr. Gillian Foster and Dr. Cal Lightman would be dead by now if it wasn't for his decision.

Eli Loker is one of the freelancers on a payroll only few people have access to, including Hines. Everything about those assignments is strictly confidential, solely between freelancer and client. No one will ever know. Loker is an interesting man. In private life, he studies human nature. For a living, he executes what he is paid for, his appearance the perfect cover. A wolf in sheep's clothing.

A little less than 24 hours after Banida had been released from custody, they arrested him for the crimes Lightman had told them about. Enough leverage to blackmail Banida's father so that the terrorist attack could be prevented. Their quick-and-dirty plan worked out. Everything else is settled, too. The riot is under control; they informed the warden that the one prisoner that had managed to escape, had been caught and taken care of because he is relevant to a federal investigation. There will be other plans for other attacks, of course. But for now, lives were saved. Foster and Lightman are alive. Hines will sleep well tonight.

It's Friday afternoon, but Gillian doesn't look forward to the approaching weekend. In fact, she dreads leaving the office, her apartment no longer a place that feels like home after what happened between Alec and her. Even the nights don't bring relief albeit it comes as no surprise that nightmares torment her.

Subsequent to her experiences during the riot, Gillian was offered therapy, but she declined. She knows the symptoms of PTSD too well, treated many patients suffering from it, and although she can't treat herself and wouldn't try, making a reliable diagnosis is a different matter. She doesn't need therapy; she only needs time to heal.

The sun has set. After her interview for the final report, she went through some patient files, but there is no use in lingering any longer. Gillian shuts down her computer and is about to leave when she hears a knock at her door.

"Yes?"

It's most likely the cleaning crew. Gillian doesn't bother to look, putting on her coat and grabbing her purse on her way out, almost bumping into the person standing in the door frame. Cal. His nose is broken and there are several ugly bruises in his face, but it's him. Seems as if he eventually decided to find her.

"Hey, luv."

- To be continued -

Next chapter: Callian. Lots of it.