Jaz shouldered her pack as she stood at the entrance of the airport. Travel as a civilian didn't come with the same perks she enjoyed while on duty, so the team would have to stay outside of security. She had arrived two and a half hours early so the team could enjoy one last breakfast together, as team tradition. Everyone always came to the airport to send everyone off. They'd followed the same protocol every single time they'd returned from deployment ever since she'd joined the team.

She was the first one here but expected the rest would be arriving soon. Sure enough, it wasn't five minutes before Amir and McG entered together, laughing and teasing as usual. This time it seemed to center on their "accomplishments" of the prior evening. Apparently the medic who could have easily passed as a model had finally checked a three way off his bucket list and Amir...well, he kept saying a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, but the nonstop smiling and faint blush in his cheeks and clear sparkle in his eye told the story for him. Things had gone well for them both last night.

"Where's Top?" McG queried as he grabbed one of Jaz's suitcases, ready to roll it towards their preferred restaurant.

Jaz shrugged. "Not here yet. Did you hear from him last night?"

Both men shook their heads. McG looked around with a puzzled furrow in his eyebrows. It was strange that their captain wasn't here yet. Typically he was the first one to arrive at these airport send offs.

Amir glances at his watch. "Should we find a table? He can join us when he gets here, but at least we can order some food."

Jaz took a deep breath and sighed, casting one last glance at the doors of the airport. "I guess so. I've got to get to security in about an hour or so."

The trio turned and headed towards the restaurant. They settled in to a table that was positioned close to the walkway so they could flag down Dalton when he arrived. McG put his order in, then excused himself to the restroom.

McG stared at his phone in bewilderment. He had tried calling Dalton twice already and sent a handful of texts, but it was nothing but crickets coming back. Complete non communication was not something that Adam did, ever. And the fact that his flight out to Pennsylvania was scheduled for less than six hours later, it was doubly strange that he wasn't here yet.

Finally McG decided to put a quick call into Hannah. Perhaps they had heard from him, or knew his whereabouts at least. Hannah answered on the second ring and listened attentively as McG explained the situation.

She turned to ask Noah and Patricia if either of them had seen Adam since last night. Patricia immediately scowled in concern. Noah chewed on his lip as he recalled the last time he'd seen Adam.

Jaz had swiveled her head abruptly and Noah followed her gaze. Adam had his arm around a pretty young woman dressed in barely anything, her body pressed suggestively against his, both of them walking a bit unsteadily towards the exit of the club. Jaz turned her attention back to Noah and tried to hide her frustration, but he perceived not just annoyance but deep disappointment too. It wasn't a surprise when she made a flimsy excuse to go outside less than half an hour later.

Noah relayed his observation of Adam and his companion, noting the approximate time they had departed the club. Patricia was tapping away on a tablet she'd grabbed from the desk and relayed her information to Hannah.

He was staying at the hotel down the street from the club, in room 107. Apparently he hadn't checked out yet, according to the hotel's records.

The home team relayed all the information to McG and assured him they would attempt contact and keep him updated. McG thanked them and made his way back to Amir and Jaz, who were halfway through their breakfast.

"Hey guys. I called Hannah at headquarters and she said it looks like Top is still at his hotel. They're going to try to coordinate with him since we haven't been able to make contact."

The clanging alarm was so loud, so piercing. Adam rolled over and stuffed another pillow over his head. It had been a long time since he had gotten so wasted and now his head was paying the price. The overpowering sound rang again, pounding pain threatening to explode his skull. Why couldn't someone just turn it off already?

Finally the ringing stopped and Adam relaxed back into a fitful sleep, grateful for the silence. He tossed around on the bed, unconsciously searching for a more comfortable position. His cell phone clattered to the floor and slid under the bedside stand. Didn't really matter, the battery was dead anyway and Adam was oblivious to the lengthening morning hour.

What seemed like minutes later but in reality was almost an hour later, Adam woke again, this time to insistent pounding on his door. Usually, the polite thing to do was knock three or four times and then wait for the door to be answered, but is that what was happening? No...whoever was seeking entry was pounding without pause.

Adam dragged himself out of the bed, surprised at the cool breeze that assaulted his bare skin and all the activity of last night came crashing through the fog in his brain. He'd spent the night forgetting about Jaz, drowning his desire for her in a cheap imitation and more beer than should be consumed by one person at one time.

He jerked on the jeans he found discarded on the floor and muttered towards the insistent pounding on the door, "All right! All right! I'm coming!"

He squinted against the blinding sun as he opened the door. He expected a big, burly figure but instead was greeted by a thin blond woman.

"Adam. You okay?" Patricia's voice was curt and slightly impatient.

He swiped a hand over his face and tried to clear his head. "Yeah. I'm good."

Patricia glanced past his still naked chest to the rumpled covers on the bed and the woman sprawled within them. She raised one eyebrow inquisitively at her favorite team leader and pursed her lips.

"Your team is trying to get in touch with you," she stated pointedly. She reached up and flipped her aviator sunglasses over her cool blue eyes. "And Adam, don't do anything else you'll regret come next deployment. You still have to be respected by your team...including your sniper."

And with that she spun around and marched back to her car, slammed the door shut and sped away. Adam stood dumbfounded in the doorway, watching her drive away but not really seeing it.

A miserable groan pulled Adam from his reverie. The weight of what Patricia said hit with full force. Adam whirled around and snatched up all the clothes on the floor that didn't belong to him. He pulled the girl out of the bed a little rougher than he meant to and shoved the handful of clothes into her arms.

"You need to leave. Get dressed and a cab will be here to pick you up." He pointed her in the direction of the bathroom and gave her a gentle shove. He scanned the room, searching for his phone. He had to call Jaz, let her know he overslept and didn't mean to miss breakfast. After the choices he had made last night, he wouldn't blame her if she never spoke to him again.

He whispered a curse under his breath as he searched for his phone. Where was the damn thing? He yanked a t-shirt over his head and shoved the rest of his things into his bag. Thankfully there wasn't much to pack. He grabbed the room phone and asked the front desk to call for two taxis, immediately.

The girl jiggled the handle of the bathroom door and Adam quickly pulled t open. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, but she was dressed. Adam swept a frantic glance around the bathroom, still hunting for his cell. He let out a frustrated grunt when he didn't find it. He checked his watch.

8:47

Great. Jaz's flight left in less than an hour. If he was fast, he could still catch her in the terminal since his flight was later that day.

Adam swung his bag on his shoulder and huddled the girl into the first cab. The second cab pulled up moments later and Adam jumped inside.

"To the airport. Fast, please!"

The driver nodded and turned out of the parking lot. Traffic in the District was always horrid, but it seemed extra slow this morning. Dalton anxiously looked out the window, searching for empty side streets and nervously checked his watch over and over.

8:53...8:58...9:06...9:10

"Can you go any faster?" He begged the cabbie.

"Sorry, dude. Can't go where there's not a space!" He didn't sympathize much with folks who left late and then expected him to make up time in DC traffic.

9:14...9:19...9:21

The control tower finally inched into view and Adam thrust a handful of cash to the driver. "Thanks, man. Keep the change."

They were stopped — again — so Adam grabbed his bags and sprinted to the sidewalk, hoisting his bags onto his shoulders and keeping them steady with one hand. All the training he'd continued to put in paid off as he raced towards the airport, passing vehicle after vehicle stopped in the deadlock.

He was glad both his bags were small enough to count as carryons and he rushed to security, desperate to see Jaz before her plane left in — he glanced down at his watch again — 9:29 — exactly sixteen minutes. C'mon, c'mon! Let's go! We all know how this works!

It was 9:34 by the time it was Adam's turn to walk through the machine. Push the bag through on the conveyor belt. Step into the machine: arms up, legs out, pause, move on.

An alarm sounded and dozens of TSA workers and police officers surrounded the machine, guns drawn, all pointed at Dalton. "Put your hands on your head and move backwards! Now!"

Adam followed orders immediately, heart dropping when he realized what was going on. Stupid fool! He was traveling as a civilian! He wasn't allowed to keep his sidearm on him. His personal handgun had become so much a part of him, he had totally forgotten he would have to check it. They'd flown on a military flight from Landstuhl, Germany where Preach had initially been transferred after the bomb explosion in Turkey, and hadn't needed to worry about it, but this... This was a whole other scenario.

The idea of getting to talk to Jaz before her flight left was out the window, up in the sky, like, a continent away by now. Adam quietly submitted to every order, even the officers who were a little too rough, without fight. There was no fight left in him. He had failed and it stung. And it was all his own damn dumb fault.