"What is it?" said Connie sleepily.

"Nothing, go back to sleep."

"Mm…" said Connie, snuggling closer to him.

Jason was tempted not to answer. Why was she calling in the middle of the night? But he pressed the green answer button.

"Hello, Tasha," he whispered.

"Hi, Jason."

"We're sleeping, you know."

"I'm sorry. But I just want to give you a heads up. When you go to Muldavia tomorrow—"

"How did you know—wait, don't answer that. I don't want to know."

"When you fly out, we'll be going with you."

"What do you mean?" He sat up. Connie reached for him and he wrapped his hand around hers. She smiled and curled up under the covers.

"It's last-minute, I know. But the Agency wanted me to go with you."

"Why?"

"I'm gonna be up front with you, Jason. No secrets except need-to-know. They want me because I know you. They want me to work with you as long as the relationship is…beneficial."

"Use me, you mean." Jason carefully slid his hand out of Connie's and walked into the entryway.

"At its most basic, I suppose."

"So the NSA is interested in human trafficking now?"

"Not so much, no. They're more interested in the arms trafficking side of things. Yavesh has come up on their radar; separate leads converged to reveal a common source. They want to know more about this organization that's thwarted them and has been clever enough, till now, to seem like small-time, disparate groups and random incidents. You've got an admittedly tenuous lead; they want to follow your investigation. And then I'll diverge once I get enough info to go deeper into the weapons trafficking angle. I'm sorry if this makes things…difficult for you."

"No, it's fine. I understand, you've got to follow orders. With our past, things could get…awkward, but I think we're able to keep things professional."

"Yes. There's another thing. Another reason the Agency wants me to go. Gray is coming with me."

"I thought he wasn't in any condition to go on a mission."

She scoffed. "He's not. But I don't have any influence with the higher-ups. I actually flirted with the idea of leaving the Agency. This business, this dirty underside I've had to see firsthand, makes me sick. The greater goal—if they even know what it is anymore—has been thrown off-track by their games, their detachment, their lack of empathy. The ends don't always justify the means. But besides the fact that being an agent is in my blood and I can't just turn my back on it, I have to be Gray's handler. If someone else was in charge of him, they wouldn't care how fragile he is and could push him too far. I still don't see how he can hold up long enough for a mission, but at least with me he has a chance."

"Why do they want him so much?"

"They see him as a great asset. How much he helped with Paraguay. And how much success he had before his capture. He's got experience with groups like Yavesh. They didn't see how he almost fell apart in Paraguay, or how he's not the same man he was. It's a good thing he's not the same man, but he's in no shape to be an agent. If he fails, they'll send him back to the CIA. You know what happened to him there."

Jason's stomach flipped sickeningly. "I know."

"He wants to do this. Especially since it's his only good option. I just don't see how he'll be up to it. I'll support him as much as I can, but I'm not sure that it'll be enough."

"I can help," Jason found himself saying. "I can try, anyway."

"Even after what he did to you."

"He's in pain; I have some experience with that. I'm not really sure what I can do to help, though."

"Just be there for him. He expects to be hurt. He still expects me to hurt him, to…want revenge for what he did to you. And he's got this…well, not irrational fear, after…but he is afraid of other men."

"Maybe my talking to him isn't such a good idea."

"In Paraguay, you forgave him, kept him from being recaptured. He knows you have good intentions—though he's probably as mystified about them as about mine." She laughed softly. "It's so strange to have this sort of rapport with him, to be his only advocate. I'm…not entirely comfortable with this…relationship. But I'm just going to have to deal with it so this mission will have as few road bumps as possible."

"We all will. This should be…interesting."

"Yeah. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Tasha."

"Goodbye, Jason."

Jason set the phone down and sat there for a minute in the dark, absorbing what she'd said. He was so tired he knew the full import of Tasha and Gray joining this mission hadn't sunk in. As if things weren't interesting enough.

Excitement and a bit of dread knotted up in his chest, he crawled back into bed and wrapped his arm around Connie's. He kissed her temple and then lay down.

It took longer than he would've liked to get to sleep, but eventually he drifted off into dreams.

In the morning, they packed while he told Connie about his conversation with Tasha. "She's coming with?" she said.

"Not only her. Gray's coming too."

"Wow." She dropped a shirt into her suitcase. Looked away toward the opposite wall.

"Are you okay with this?"

"I have to be okay with it."

He walked over to her from beside the bed. "No, you don't. We wouldn't have to go if you don't want to."

She gave him a smile. "It's just a lot to take in, that's all. I know Gray's not the same person he was…that…he deserves our sympathy. But I haven't seen him since he kidnapped me. I mean, I saw him a little in Paraguay but not close up like you did. I don't think I've…been able to get the closure that you have."

"Maybe now you can."

"Maybe. So much else has happened and ….I thought I was over it but when you said he was coming….I sort of felt a panic. I'll have to face him, look him in the eye…the one who hurt you. He is the same person, even if he's changed, and I…I'm not really sure if I've forgiven him. I just thought I did because you did…but it's not really the same thing. I don't even know what to forgive him for, because he didn't really do anything to me."

"He kidnapped you. Broke your leg. Set the bomb that put you in the hospital." Anger stirred in him when he remembered what Gray had done to the one he loved.

"I don't really count that. It's what he did to you that matters. But he did it to you and not to me and so….it's like I don't have to forgive him but the anger's still there, deep inside…" A tear spilled onto her cheek.

Jason laid his hand on her arm. "I know. I know how hard it is. The first step is acknowledging you do feel anger and hatred, and then asking God to forgive you for it and to help you forgive. Even though Gray didn't hurt you like he did me—it still had to affect you. I didn't realize that. This'll be a bit challenging for the both of us. Even though I've forgiven him and want to help him, the memories are still there and—it still hurts." Tears sprang to his eyes at this realization. He would never completely heal, just as he'd always bear the external scars…. He'd just have to make the best of it. Use his pain to give empathy to Gray and others.

"Oh, Jason. I know." She turned to him, kissed his cheek. "I wish I could make it stop. Part of me thinks that hurting him will help—but it won't make you better, it will only create more pain, for him and for me. Forgiveness is the only way to go, I know that. Will you pray with me?"

Jason nodded. They knelt beside the bed, Jason's hand in hers, and she asked God to help her forgive Gray. Jason asked God to give her strength, and to help him to find ways to help Gray. They prayed about the mission too, that they'd find Ben soon, and to encourage his father. And for them to be able to find Jerry's wife, and to keep her safe.

"I feel much better about this now," said Connie. "It will be a little weird with Tasha there…."

"You don't have to worry about Tasha." Jason swept her into a kiss. She laughed and kissed him back passionately. But reluctantly he broke away. They'd be late if they didn't watch it.

They packed and drove to the airport. Leaving their rental car behind, they went through the terminal and boarded a sleek, compact private plane, blue and marked with "Bonne Chance".

Inside, Kris Markov met them. "Welcome aboard," he said. "I'm glad you could come. The more diverse perspectives we have the better. You're a legend among those of us who have a window into Muldavia's secret past. One might even say hero." He smiled.

"I don't really deserve that…I learned much more about intelligence since then."

"I welcome your present self then, although your status as hero of Muldavia could also be of use. Please, take a seat anywhere you like. We'll serve lunch at midday."

Excitement gripped him as he walked down the aisle—he was actually going back to Muldavia after all these years. It would be fun to visit now that James was in charge and it wasn't communist with secret police at every corner.

After passing several people absorbed in their laptops, Saul and Leila greeted them.

"I didn't know you were coming!" said Jason.

"All of us security people are going back on one plane," said Saul, "and the prince and his entourage on another. This gives us a chance to compare notes on Yavesh. We're really overdue for taking a serious look at its threat to our national security."

"It'll be good to work with you again. And get to know you, Leila."

"Likewise," she said, smiling at him and then Connie. Jason was glad she wasn't ignoring Connie; he hoped she didn't feel left out on this plane full of spies.

At the back of the plane Jason spotted Tasha and Gray. His heart flipped as he walked toward them.

"Hi Tasha, Gray."

"Hello, Jason," said Tasha.

Gray looked at him, his blue eyes almost transparent in the light from the plane window, apprehension cutting through the cautious eagerness in his face.

"Mind if I sit down?"

"Go ahead," said Tasha.

Jason sat across from Gray so it wouldn't force Connie to confront her feelings about Gray until she was ready.

Jason however had to figure out what to say to Gray that wouldn't hurt him. He couldn't exactly ask "How have you been".

"It's good to see you again."

Gray's eyebrows furrowed as if he didn't quite believe Jason. But he said in a quiet voice, "It's good to see you too, Jason."

"I'm looking forward to working with you."

"You were…very professional last time we worked together. I'm sorry I couldn't have been of more help to you."

"Are you kidding? You provided the intel Tasha needed to go after Ramon."

"I drugged you. You were shot—I left you."

"The former was part of your cover. The latter was my choice, and there was no use in the both of us getting caught. In the end, I escaped. No harm done."

Gray looked out the window a moment. Then back at Jason, a tentative expression on his face. "I barely survived Paraguay, you know. It's gotten worse, not better, since then. I'm…not sure how much of an asset I will be to this." His eyes dropped, a blush suffusing his usually pale cheeks.

This admission of weakness was a far cry from the Gray he had known. "You are a great agent. You have accomplished much."

"That was before. I was not even the great agent I thought I was then. If I were, I could not have become…this." He grasped his wrist, his nails digging into his skin. Beneath his long-sleeved shirt a white bandage showed.

"You still have that person inside of you. You can become him again."

"That's the person that hurt you." His eyes bored into Jason's, pain and challenge in them.

"You don't have to be the same man. You can be better. You can use your talents for good."

"For good. Ha! I can't even—" He stopped, as if choked.

"That's what you're doing now, believe it or not. By going on this mission. This can be a fresh start."

Gray tipped his head sideways, his eyes narrowed as if considering what he'd said. Then he said bitterly, "What makes you think I care about doing good? I'm doing this to try to get back some semblance of the life I had. And because…" He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the seat wearily, and said so softly Jason could barely hear above the noise of the engines, "I don't have a choice."

"What do you mean?" said Jason.

"If…if I don't do this, they'll send me back. I can't go back." He shuddered, turned toward the window, his whole body tense. He grasped his wrist, fingers digging into it. He didn't look back at Jason and Jason thought he'd give him some space. But the plane was about to take off and he had to stay in his seat. He looked at Connie, who smiled and slid her hand into his.

"Tasha's been telling me about your mission to Muldavia," she said. "It's amazing to hear about it firsthand."

"She's probably glossing over my mistakes."

"Cut it out, Jason!"

"I mean it. I'm a bit embarrassed to be singled out as a hero, when any success I had was due to Tasha."

Tasha smiled. "You were quite green, it's true, but you also showed raw potential—and you later blossomed into one of the best agents the NSA has ever had."

"I could say the same for you. This mission has a much greater chance of success with you on the case."

A smile spread across her face. "Thank you, Jason. I will do my best….and it's a good thing I have experience with this country, although I think we'll find much has changed when we arrive."

"For the better."

Tasha nodded and pulled out her laptop.

"Is he all right?" said Connie, looking at Gray. The plane was taxiing down the runway.

"I…don't know."

"His arm, Jason-"

Sure enough, red had seeped through his bandage to stain his sleeve. "Gray—"

"What?"

"You're bleeding."

Shock seized his face; he lifted his hand away from his arm to look at the blood spreading through his blue shirt. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. Here, let me help you—" Jason reached toward his arm. Gray jerked away, fear flashing across his eyes. He grabbed his seatbelt as if to unbuckle it. Jason moved toward him to stop him. Gray tried to writhe away from him. Jason sat back, not knowing what to do.

Tasha touched his shoulder. "Please, Gray. Stay in your seat. It's all right. No one will hurt you. You don't have to be afraid."

The wild terror faded from his eyes. Tasha slid her hand into his hair and stroked it like he was a child. He leaned back, his breaths slowly steadying as the plane rose into the air and gravity pressed them back into their seats.

"I'm sorry," said Jason. Gray didn't respond, didn't look like he'd heard.

"It's all right," said Tasha. "Now that you know, just...try to be more careful."

Jason nodded, feeling sick. He'd had no idea until he'd seen Gray's reaction how deeply he'd been hurt. But it made sense. Jason had had trouble being touched after what Gray had done to him. To experience not only torture but something even more degrading and horrific—no wonder he had PTSD symptoms. Jason knew what it was like to some extent, but in some ways he had no idea….and he had no idea how to help him. What he'd done had just made things worse. With such a recent injury, of course he was not recovered. Tasha was right. If he was still so traumatized, how could he do his job? Would he be a liability to the mission? Or would he even get that far before it became evident he wasn't useful and be returned to the CIA detention center? Was there a way that Jason could help him, or should he just keep his distance?

The plane lifted through the clouds, and Jason walked to another seat. Connie followed him. He sat by the window, watching the clouds glide by, her head on his shoulder, his heart troubled.

After lunch, Markov called them into the conference room in the back of the plane. Gray did not join them.