Fifteen Years Later

by Kate D.

15 Years Later 2

Refer to 15 Years Later - 1 for disclaimer.

The remaining sunlight had stretched its final rays across the balcony room's ceiling. Robert still tried vainly to break a loose wire from the chair. Then he heard the shot. He froze as his heart missed a beat.

******

Mickey felt the bullet hit the ground beside him, followed by a nearby thump. It took him a second to register that he hadn't been shot. He listened for Marco to come and finish the job. What he heard instead was the whistle of bullets through air as they took out the nearby guards. Someone had a silenced sniper rifle. Suddenly, the courtyard erupted in return gunfire. Painfully, he tried to avoid being hit in the crossfire but found he could not move. He heard the sound of shattering glass as one by one the searchlights went out.


With most of the attention focused on the courtyard, Scott had easily walked up to the barracks. The first guard he met, he managed to knock out silently, sequester, take his clothes, bind, gag and lock in a storage room half a minute ahead of schedule. He took a calming breath and continued with the plan.

Slowly, the flames crept across the roof of the barracks. It happened quietly at first, but then the alarm started. Now all attention was on the burning building. The guards in the courtyard realized no one was shooting back at them and the chase was dropped in favor of the new threat. Nothing gets a person moving like watching his well-earned possessions about to go up in smoke, Scott mused.


In the darkness, the Lady ran into the courtyard. She covered the area with another gun and approached the bound man, ready for any guard that she hadn't taken out or wasn't headed to the barracks. Holding her gun at the ready, she reached over and undid the blindfold.

Mickey met the barrel of the gun with his eyes, refusing to flinch under the intense gaze of the soldier. He could see her analyzing him, perhaps even considering her situation. If she was just here to raid Marco's installation, he was not worth the trouble of untying. The battered agent stared back at the face towering over him in the dim light, waiting for its decision.

The soldier leaned over him and hummed the first couple of bars of a tune. Mickey stiffened as he recognized it.

Scott stood in the shadows. As the last of the guards hurried from the main post to the barracks, keeping his head down, he quickly approached, stuck his foot into the closing door and slipped inside. The security lock snapped shut behind him. He made his way through the corridor, trying to look as if he belonged there for the benefit of the video surveillance and the absent guards. He turned up the stairs and onto the landing. He shot the guard on the door, followed by the security camera, briefly checked that there was no guard in the room, dragged the body inside and secured the door. The security camera he was to redirect was not aimed at the control box. It was aimed at the cage. Scott froze as he met his father's eyes.


The Lady watched the man's body stiffening, his eyes widening with recognition. She fell to her knees beside him, took out her jimmy and a knife, shoved the sharp end into a chain link and, using the log for resistance, broke it open. She pulled the hobble chain clear of the handcuffs and helped him up to get them awkwardly over the stake. As his hands scraped free of the log, Mickey fell to the ground, his legs numb from the hours of kneeling. The Lady grabbed him by his feet and dragged him to cover in the most undignified way possible. The guards were soon going to figure out the fire was a diversion and she didn't want to be in the open courtyard when they did. Still, they had been lucky so far and it hadn't turned into an all-out firefight. Quickly, she picked the cuffs. Getting his wrists free, Mickey immediately removed the gag.

"Scott?" He coughed, swallowing to clear his throat.

"We need an exit. Stay here." She pressed the lock pick into his hand to deal with the chains and placed a gun beside him. "Shoot anyone that isn't me." Leaving Mickey, she proceeded to the doorway behind them. She tried the handle: to her surprise it didn't budge. "Shit, Scott!"


Scott's mind had briefly turned off when he had seen his father. The Lady would be waiting; she needed the door open if they were going to get out of here. He had to deal with the security system first. Having made the decision he left the camera, put his gun away and proceeded to the box. He forced it open. The switches were not labeled, so he went straight to plan B, jimmied open the cover, took out the aerosol and the lighter from his pocket and torched it. The fire alarm stopped sounding but to his utter annoyance the lights flickered back on again almost immediately.


Mickey made short work getting free of the remaining shackles. He saw his rescuer finally push through the door as he took up the gun. Unfortunately, by this time, 'Big and Burly' had got bored with the barracks fire and he and some friends had come looking to secure the area. Mickey dove for cover as they noticed him and opened fire.


Marco looked at the satellite photo with irritation, if not actual dismay. It had been taken an hour ago by an overhead satellite and clearly showed his two escapees lying with a rifle on the rock outcrop just west of the encampment. He had seriously underestimated those two. The good news was that they weren't going to dock his payment for killing Kostmayer. He switched the screen to look at Robert in his cell and gloated. The lights flickered once and then the computer screen plunged into darkness. Marco got up and checked the door. In the event of a power outage, some locks locked open and some locks locked shut. This was a vault door. It locked shut.

On the other side of that door, the Lady also swore. She had bet on only the cell doors being on a lock-shut mechanism. Quickly, she made her way to the neighboring filing room and briefly tossed over what little there was with the realization that there was nothing useful there. If there were anything that would tell who was responsible for this, then it was on the computer, which was probably in the locked room. She angrily pushed over the small desk in the center of the room and started through the files she had flung to the ground with it. Finding a sheet that looked useful, she stuffed it into her pocket and headed back out into the corridor.


Having dealt with the security and communication system, Scott looked hopelessly at the cage. There was no way his small jimmy would shift that lock by brute force alone, and he seriously doubted his ability to pick the lock. Keeping an eye on the door, he searched the guard for keys. Finding none, he heard himself swearing. He walked up to the cage door and got out the tools.

"You're okay?" Scott almost didn't recognise his own voice. Robert nodded in reply, but looked less confident as Scott's shaking hands attempted to work the lock. Scott swore again as it slipped. Robert's eyes widened as they both heard a noise at the door. Scott dropped the picks and grabbed the gun, pointing it at the intruder in one quick motion. He stared at the Lady for a few seconds before he lowered the gun. "Bitch," he swore at her for startling him.

"Take the door," she ordered. It took her half a second to take in what was happening and a total of four to work the lock. "You're able to walk," she stated. Robert nodded in reply as she freed one of his hands. He undid the gag as she worked on the other.

"Is he okay?" Scott looked over toward them.

"Door," she barked back at him.

"Yes, I'm all right, Scott," Robert answered as he shook the blood back into his hands.

"And Mickey?" Scott asked.

"Door," she ordered again, but nodded reassuringly at Robert. She was just as efficient in unchaining Robert's ankles. He was stiff from being chained, but the Lady hurried him to his feet. She grabbed the guard's weapon as she passed and handed it to Robert. Scott had not dared move from his position at the door and, not wanting to distract him from the task, Robert merely laid a hand on his shoulder and met his eyes. Giving them no time for greetings, the Lady took the lead and cautiously headed out the door. They moved down the stairs and into the main corridor before the shooting started. She sprayed the corridor with bullets while Scott and Robert headed through the closest door. The room inside was similar to the balcony room, but a floor lower and without the cage. She ducked in after them to swap the clip. Almost immediately, they were fired upon from the other building through the glass-less window.

"You do have an escape plan?" Robert asked her.

"I had a plan for stealing a helicopter." She ducked as bullets chipped pieces off the wall above her head. "I did not have a plan for rescuing anybody." Before he could stop her, she rolled back out into the corridor and attempted to clear it with the automatic. Stupidly, she had forgotten the other entrance: guards burst into the corridor behind her. She threw herself into the next doorway as Robert opened fire on the new arrivals through the relative protection of the doorway. She had not managed to scramble to her feet before the guard entered the room. He raised his gun at her. Unable to get her own gun clear, she barreled herself at his shins.

Scott slipped across to the protection of the outer wall to cover the doorway from a wider angle as another barrage of bullets flew in from outside. With a single shot from his pistol, he put out the light. Robert clung low, crouching against the targeted wall, his attention concentrated on keeping the incoming guards at bay. Anticipating his request, Scott slid him a clip. As it hit his boot, Robert looked across at Scott in mild surprise. Scott came forward on the wall, swapped his pistol for his machine gun and checked the corridor in the direction the Lady had gone as far as he could without getting in the line of fire.


Marco sneered as he short-circuited the lock-shut mechanism, drew his gun and pushed open the vault door to see Mickey Kostmayer enter from the outer door. Reacting instantly, Mickey kicked the vault door, slamming it into Marco, knocking him to the ground. Grabbing Marco's gun and head, Mickey slammed him face-first into the floor. Marco struggled to get free of Mickey's grasp.

"Why are you tryin' to leave when the fun's just beginning?" Mickey forced the gun out of Marco's hand, then dragged him to his knees by the hair. "You're going to tell me which bastard's paying you or I'm going to break every bone in your body." Struggling to hold his temper, he slammed Marco's head into the wall and held it there, twisting Marco's arm behind his back. The outer door opened. Mickey attempted to put Marco between himself and Marco's men, but Marco threw him off balance and both men scrambled for their guns. Mickey recovered first and hosed the corridor with bullets. Marco's shot flew wild, narrowly missing Mickey as he was hit. Mickey stared at him. Vainly, he tried the vault door. Once again, it was locked. "Damn." He hit it. Then he noticed the blood from his wrists. The cuffs had cut into them deeply. Hurriedly, he searched Marco's body, found the prissy little pocketknife and tore some cloth from Marco's shirt, tying it clumsily around his wounds. The sound of the gunfight down the corridor brought him back to his senses. He had to find Robert.


The Lady hit at her attacker wildly, the back of her hand to his jaw followed by an elbow to his crotch before he smashed her head face first into the floor. Dazed, she felt him drag her head up off the floor by her hair. She tried to ward off the approaching blade with her hands as he reached down to cut her throat. 'This is it,' she thought 'I can't die now, I have to fly them out of there'. Unexpectedly, the man jerked backwards, the knife blade twitching dangerously close to her throat, and then he slumped to the ground. The Lady collapsed to the floor under the weight. Mickey quickly pitched the body aside and dragged her to her feet.

"Where's McCall?"

"I thought I told you to keep the exit." She retrieved her weapon.

"It sounded like you needed some help." Mickey led the way out.

*****

Scott listened. They were seriously running out of time. There was silence. Scott pointed to himself then the back direction then at Robert and the direction the Lady had gone. Robert shook his head and then indicated he would take the back direction and Scott the forward. Scott nodded. In unison, they stepped out into the corridor.


Mickey stopped short; a startled jerk, shook his head at the sight before him. Robert was easily recognizable, naturally, but the man standing next to him... It wasn't the physical difference so much, the thinner but more muscled frame, the shaggy, grown out hair and the straggly beard. It was the face, the expression that startled him. Deep, introspective, war weary. He never thought he'd see that look in Scott McCall's eyes. Still, he was unable to resist a little jibe.

"You never stay where you're put, do you, kid?" Mickey lowered his gun. "Just coming looking for you."

Scott didn't lower his gun or relax; in fact, he walked straight by Mickey to the Lady.

"Well, I'm glad to see you too." Robert gave Mickey a mixed look of concern and relief. "I was beginning to think you had mis-timed your last minute escape."

"Twenty seconds, Lady," Scott said flatly.

"Shit!" she replied. Relying on the chance that if there had been anybody left they would already be shooting at her, she bolted to the next intersection. Scott was already after her. He stopped at the intersection, as she took off to the next, and waited for her signal to follow. Robert followed Scott at a somewhat more sedate pace. Mickey followed, keeping a close eye forward and rear.

Mickey looked briefly at Robert. Scott and this woman cleared the way far too well together. She took more of the risks and he covered her, but this was not a five-minute affair. She set a fast but thorough pace and barely waited for Scott to catch up before she moved on. She was more careful with the second stretch that brought them to the door where she had originally left Mickey. She glanced over Marco and the dead guards.

"I take the door, you take the hallway to the right all the way to the end," she said hurriedly to Mickey. For a split second, Mickey looked to Robert for a better idea but the Lady was already moving.

Thanks to the light above the door, the firefight started as soon as she got outside. She moved to behind the wall in front of the door and made any of the guards in the immediate area stick their heads in while Mickey, Scott and Robert sprinted down the dark hallway. The hallway ended at a short balcony over a very dark pit. The Lady arrived on their heels. The hallway was lit up with machine-gun fire. Mickey shot blindly back down the hall, while everyone else backed to the wall to get out of the way.

"Plus twenty-five seconds," Scott shouted over the return fire.

"They must have found it. It wouldn't have taken much to disarm."

"Found what?" Robert fired down the hallway.

"The big diversion." The Lady took out remaining clips from her satchel, handing them to Mickey.

"As opposed to the little diversion," Scott added.

"That would be the fire." Mickey stowed the two clips in his pocket while the Lady fired back down the hallway. "Where to now?"

"Down." The Lady tossed the rope out of the satchel as Robert started shooting and Mickey changed clips.

"There's no way you're taking those two down that rope," Mickey informed her.

"I'll come back," she shouted as she fastened the rope to the wall, clipped on the harness and ran face first over the edge.

"Where did you find her?" Mickey asked Scott with a look of disgust.

"Cell downstairs." Scott sat, back to the wall, next to his father while Robert and Mickey kept the shooters from advancing.

"Lucky you, best cell companion I got was a rat. You okay?"

Scott nodded quickly in reply.

It was not long before they heard the helicopter. The Lady brought it as close to the balcony as she dared, but there was still a decent step between.

"Go, Scott," Robert ushered him to move. He got to the wall but balked at stepping up the wall and across the distance between. Scott had not expected the distance or the drop. He crouched against the inside of the wall as gunfire rained down on him from a new direction. If he didn't make it to the helicopter one way or another, he would die there.

Mickey and Robert exchanged worried glances. They simultaneously left the cover of the archway. Robert fired at the new attackers above while Mickey continued at the archway. Scott took this as an opportunity to get out of there and made a running jump at the inside of the helicopter. He felt a jolt through his arm, increasing his momentum into the helicopter. Mickey and Robert bounded in together.

Unexpectedly, the building to their right erupted in a series of explosions. Debris flew up at them. The helicopter kicked at the blast as the Lady struggled to control their escape into the night.

"Guess they weren't too smart at disarming." She pulled the helicopter away into the night.


In the cabin the occupants were tossed against the walls as they grappled for something to hold. Robert and Mickey quickly found the securing points for mounting the seats that had been removed to make full use of the cargo space. They both grabbed Scott as he slid on the floor. He yelled in pain at the resistance. They pulled him to the relatively protected rear of the helicopter, clear of the still open door.

"Scott!" Robert groped in the dark, his voice on the edge of panic and drowned by the noise of the chopper. Scott's chest was wet with blood. "Be still." He held Scott to him, gently trying to feel the location of the wound. At this close proximity, even in the moonlight he could see his son's face was the color of chalk.

Mickey threw himself to the front of the helicopter and reached for the first aid kit.

"Hey, we need some light here," Mickey yelled. He looked out the open door. She'd killed all the lights and was flying blind into the night, way too low and way too fast. Suddenly, he thought it better not to distract her and took a guess at where the emergency flashlight should be. Quickly, he searched the partition with his hands until he came to the light. He made his way back to Scott. The light flickered dimly as he searched Scott's chest.

"The left side, Mickey," Robert directed as he tore the hole in the chest of Scott's shirt open. Scott was in pain and cried out as he was moved.

"You're okay kid, stay with us." As he saw the mess of his own bloodied, bandaged wrists, Mickey withdrew his reaching hand and placed it on comfortingly on Scott's leg. "It's just grazed his chest," he observed.

"Then that's not where all the blood is from, is it?" Robert struggled to keep his voice in check.

The flashlight went out. Mickey swore. The helicopter dropped about a meter. They felt it hit the ground and slide along the sand as they held on and it slid to a stop. They listened as the rotor blades slowed to a stop. For an endless second, there was silence.

"What's the problem?" Mickey demanded.

"We got hit. Fuel leak! Get out!" the Lady ordered as she struggled back into the cabin. "Move!" she urged them as they carried Scott out. Seeing Scott, she reached back up into the cockpit and took a pocket-sized kit from a small cabinet in the wall as she followed them out. They did not get far before the cabin was engulfed in flames as the little fuel left reached the air.

On the ground, Mickey shook the flashlight to get it working as Robert frantically tried to find the wound.

"Where's he hit?" the Lady demanded.

"It went through his arm." Robert pulled the medical kit to within a working distance and flipped it open.

"Well, get him moving." The Lady opened the pocketsize stashed kit and dumped it on Scott's lap between the two men. "He'll live. We don't have time for this." The kit contained vials and syringes.

"We're in the middle of nowhere," Robert bellowed back at her.

"Airfield! Walking distance! That way!" She pointed in the direction she had been flying as she yelled at him.

"Hey, be useful," Mickey said softly. "I can't help." He showed his bloodied wrists. She stared at him a second then she dropped to her knees next to Robert and liberated one of the shots from the pocket-sized kit.

"We need to stop the bleeding," Robert instructed as he used a knife from the medical kit to open the sleeve. Scott yelled and pulled away. Not waiting, the Lady injected Scott straight through his clothes.

"I know, Scott." Mickey held Scott's good arm with one hand and the flashlight with the other.

"That had better only contain painkillers," Robert warned her as he grabbed bandages from the medical kit and put pressure on the wound.

The Lady gave Robert a look of irritation. She felt for the pulse in Scott's injured arm. His fingers were warm and the pulse was strong. "Clean, doesn't look like it hit anything on the way through. He's lucky; most of what they were shooting at us would have ripped off the inside of his arm. We need to hurry," she urged him.

"You need to be quiet," Robert said.

She took a handful of items from the kit and went over to Mickey to get out of his way. She took the flashlight and managed to get it pointing at Scott, holding it between her head and shoulder, while she hurriedly and cantankerously helped Mickey clean up and put something over his lacerated wrists.

"Get him on his feet; we are moving," she ordered after observing that Robert had completed bandaging Scott's arm and was tying another bandage to secure his arm over his chest.

"We are not ready to move," Robert snapped.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I don't want to be out here when that party we just left wakes up and gets their other birdie working," she snapped back at him. "I do, however, care about Scott and I don't want him dragged back out there."

"You are going to stop talking and do what you are told," Robert replied.

"He didn't have a choice about being in this mess. You made that for him." She lashed out at McCall, her voice rising in anger. "He said you own a security business and that's what got him kidnapped, more than once. Well, I know enough about Marco's hit list to know that's not what got you into trouble. Do any of you bastards ever think?"

Robert stared at her furiously. She must have realized she had gone too far, because she stared back blankly, taut and shocked.

"How about you scout ahead," Mickey suggested. "Give us a minute." She backed away and followed the order. Mickey stood up. "Robert, she's just crashed a helicopter. She's just... "

"I know. I know, Mickey." Robert took a deep breath.

"We do have to move." He touched Robert on the shoulder. "If you're all right with Scott, I'll have a word with her."


For an hour, Mickey and the Lady scouted ahead in silence, although she repeatedly stopped and looked back into the moonlight to check on the McCalls' progress. Mickey was both surprised and impressed that she didn't set an unreasonable pace. The moon provided ample light for what they required, but the burning helicopter was still a beacon marking from whence they had come.

"So," Mickey broke the wordless march. "You got a name?"

"Darkness."

"That's not a name." He searched the skyline for any sign of movement.

"Most people call me Lady."

"That's not a name either."

"Well, that's what they call me."

"Well, I'm not going to call you that." They walked, watching while he waited for a response. "My name's Mickey," he offered.

She stopped walking and glared back at him.

"You don't believe me?"

She replied with silent irritation.

"Okay, it's really Michael, but my mom only called me that when I was in trouble."

She went back to walking.

"Look, I need to call you something."

"Fine, pick a name, any name you like and I'll answer to it," she replied tersely.

Mickey thought for a second.

"Okay, Pita it is. That's for Pain In The Ass," he proclaimed.

She shook her head in disgust.

"If you've got another suggestion?" he offered.

"It'll do." She stopped for Robert and Scott to catch up.

"Well, I got a piece of advice for you Pita." Mickey smiled grimly. "Don't make McCall your enemy."

"Scott didn't choose to get in this mess." She was still upset about Scott.

"Everyone's got something in their past that they regret." Mickey looked back at Robert supporting his son. "We need your help to find the people who did this to Scott. Marco's list?"

She reached into her jacket and handed Mickey the paper she had stolen. Robert still had the flashlight. "Scott needs to rest." She told him.

"Yeah. I was thinking that. You keep a watch up here." Mickey went back to help them. She sat just below the crest of a hill, high enough to see, but not silhouetted against the sky.

"How you doing?"

"How do you think he's doing?"

"I wasn't asking about him. You're doing fine, aren't you Scott?" Mickey said as he helped him collapse to the ground.

"Yeah," Scott agreed.

"I was asking about you."

"Do you have any idea where she is taking us?"

"So far I can't even get her to tell me her name."

"Lady, Darkness." Scott breathed.

"Yeah, we had that conversation." Mickey took out the piece of paper Pita had given him and handed it to Robert. "Marco's list."

Robert turned on the flashlight to read it. "My goodness." He switched the light off. "It's the list in Control's phone."

Mickey took the list and the light and looked at it briefly. "What have I got to do to get first billing?"

"Did she mention the Company, Scott?" Robert dropped the volume of his voice.

Scott shook his head. "The guy who put us up said she was a gun for hire." He sounded exhausted.

"Guy?"

"Peter Wise," Robert supplied. "Scott has been telling me about his trip."

"Wise belongs to the military doesn't he?"

"Last I heard."

"What's he doing out here?"

"Cleaning up the local riffraff, by the sounds of it."

"Sounds like fun."

*****

It was slow going as they forced their way through the darkness. It was getting darker and colder and they were exhausted. They walked for about three-quarters of an hour, resting for the last quarter but as the night grew, Scott walked a shorter and shorter time between each stop. Every second stretch Mickey supported him, allowing Robert to walk without his weight.

They walked a little longer for the next stretch, reaching a crest in the rolling landscape. The promised airfield was visible as a collection of slightly darker and light patches in the distance below them.

"Pita, sit with Scott, I want a word with Robert."

"Pita?" Robert looked puzzled. Mickey had said she hadn't told him her name.

"Yeah, well Pain In The Ass is too much of a mouthful."

Then Robert realized he was joking.

"Guess where we're going?" Mickey dropped he voice as he brought Robert to where he could just make out the airfield.

"Home, sweet home."

"Yeah."

"She is still being uncooperative."

"You better be a fast healer, Scott," they overheard her say, as they turned back, "because I don't know what's equivalent to the tickets to your concert you promised." She had taken off her jacket and was completing the process of tying it around Scott in an effort to keep him warm. Under the jacket she wore a shirt and a shoulder holster.

"Ninety-two bucks."

She laughed sadly at his joke, then, noticing she was being stared at, turned to Mickey and Robert. She paused and took a breath.

"I'm sorry," she said to Robert. "About the method I used to rescue Scott," she added. "Had I more resources, I would not have chosen going back to Marco's." She bowed to Robert.

He considered her for a moment. "Earlier tonight, I thought I had lost my son and Mickey, the two people that mean the most to me in the world and I didn't -- because of you." Robert held the paper out to her. "Your name is on this list."

"Not any name I've used in the last twenty years."

"That is still a yes, isn't it?" he observed. "It's not good for the soul, you know, trying to hide from one's self." He looked her in the eyes and offered his hand. "Robert McCall."

She stared back at him for a long while.

"Chris, " she whispered as if sound caused her pain.

"Thank you. Chris."

She got up and hurried out of Robert's way, starting to make her way down to the airfield.

"What have you got that I don't?" Mickey asked.

"Experience. Charm." Robert teased him.

"English accent," Mickey shot back.

*****

Mickey and Chris approached the outer fence gate without observing a sign of movement from within.

"Doesn't seem to be anybody home." Chris scrutinized the security station a couple of yards the other side of the fence, then proceeded to pick the padlock.

"You know, I could have been a gentleman and done that for you," Mickey observed. Chris had even disarmed the silent alarm, he noted. She took out her gun, approached the security station and peered inside.

"Be a gentleman, then." She nodded to Mickey to take the lead and they cautiously crossed to the main building and entered the door. Again, there was nobody.

They entered the main room. Chris slid along the wall to the first door and opened it, training her gun over the first small dormitory. Satisfied it was unoccupied, she moved to the second. They entered the kitchen and mess hall and cautiously crossed it to briefly check the large rear dormitory and bathrooms.

"Hello, anyone home?" she called as she strode back into the mess. "Our hosts seem to be absent." With the absence of any people, Chris suddenly seemed awfully confident. Mickey glanced back to make sure it was Robert entering with Scott. He took him directly into the room with their gear. Chris wandered to the kitchen and started opening and searching the cupboards.

"First aid kit." She chucked it at his feet. "I'm sure they won't care if I lift some breakfast."

"You keep watch. Call me if somebody comes." Mickey walked into the dormitory as Robert helped Scott to one of the beds. He opened the first aid kit, moved a chair within reach and placed the kit on it.

"Has Smith got a doctor here?" Robert asked as he tended to Scott. Traveling through the desert had exhausted Scott. He lay back in pain, soaked in sweat and blood.

"There's nobody home," Mickey found a container for some water, "but I'd lay odds Chris has been here before." He watched for Robert's 'Really, Mickey' expression. "She seems to know where to look."

They were just finishing up when they heard a noise. Mickey stood still. He definitely heard voices in the other room. With one look of agreement they went out to see.

*****

"If I'm going to hell today, Jason, I'm taking you with me." Chris's voice was filled with anger. The next room was now full of armed men. Chris stood with her gun half an inch from Jason's head. Every other gun in the room was pointed at Chris. Seeing the movement, Justin glanced back at them as he stood in the doorway. Staring at Mickey, he shook his head.

"Put down the gun," Jason ordered Chris, although he did not have her confidence in his voice. Mickey exchanged a look with McCall, brought out his gun and drew level with Justin.

"Let them sort it out," Justin advised.

"She dies and I'll kill you, Justin," Mickey said flatly.

"They work for you. I don't. You can order them to put down the guns." She emphasized the pronouns. Her eyes not moving from Jason's, she waited for a response.

"She dies and we're all in trouble," Justin said quietly to Mickey.

"If any of you think what I did was wrong," she raised her voice to address the room, "not the stuff I was framed for, just Vincent White, then go ahead and shoot." She took a breath to settle her voice. "But I can assure you as soon as Jason hits the deck, you're next, so you better not miss." Her eyes remained fixed on Jason. The room held its breath. In the background, Mickey slipped further into the room as Robert took his place at the doorway.

"Julia, put down the gun," Justin said gently as he strode into the room and stood next to her. Guns were lowered as he put himself in the line of fire. Chris didn't lower the weapon or shift her gaze from Jason. "Did you get what you were sent for?"

"Tresser's Payroll?" She did not change stance. "Couldn't get it. Had this nice trip to the middle of nowhere instead. I know where it is, though. I just need more time."

"I'm bringing you in, Julia."

"What?" Chris turned to Justin, incredulous, Jason forgotten, her gun dropping to her side. "I can get it."

"You're strung out. The last mission you were on, you went in without so much as an escape plan," Justin said hurriedly. "I'm bringing you in."

"I wasn't the one who screwed this up."

"You blew up a building while you were still inside."

Chris looked furious, but she holstered her gun and stood obediently at his side.

"Gentlemen," Justin addressed the room, ignoring Chris, "Julia was set up and loyally kept her cover to not tip off our target," he announced. "She is now under our protection." He turned to one of the men. "Take your men outside and secure the perimeter." Robert came into the room to allow them out.

As they left, leaving Justin, Chris, Mickey and Robert, Jason started a slow clap.

"I've really underestimated your abilities, Lady." Jason settled his backside on the table. "I never appreciated what a talented liar you are. I know you don't work for us."

"You want it out with me, Jason?" she asked coldly. "Because I'm in the mood for a punching match, but I warn you I am a much more formidable opponent when I'm not chained to a chair, and when I beat a person to death, they don't turn up six months later with a pulse."

"What the hell is going on, Justin?" Mickey interrupted.

"Good question." Jason turned on Justin. "Who invited them?"

"Jason, get out," Justin said blandly. Jason considered each of them and did as he was told. Robert decided Mickey would handle the situation and returned to Scott.

"Amazing the scum you find in the desert," Mickey remarked.

"This leak is running circles around us," Justin confessed. "There was evidence that it was Jason, but it was a set up just like for Julia. Tresser knows we know someone's selling to him and he's trying to clean up." Justin turned to Chris. "Only Julia here knows the whereabouts of Tresser's payroll."

"So the old man told you about Julia." The tone of her voice changed as she addressed Justin, but it was not friendly. She did not look at him. "Did he tell you Julia gets paid twice the rate of Darkness? Short notice and all."

"I need Tresser's Payroll."

"Yeah." she laughed bitterly as she crossed the floor, bumping clumsily into Justin as she passed and propped herself against the wall. "And I need to know how them thinking I work for you benefits me." She opened up the cigarette packet she had pick pocketed from Justin and looked confused at the contents.

"You could join the Company, make it look like you worked for us all along."

"What? So they can justify killing me retroactively?" An edge crept into her voice.

"Tresser's Payroll."

"You usually have a lighter in your box," she stalled. "No light?"

"I quit. Do you really know where it is?"

"But you still have cigarettes," she said belligerently.

"Chris..." Justin raised his voice impatiently.

"So we're back to Chris?" she snapped as she stood up from the wall. "He," she referred to Mickey, "must really be esteemed company if we are back to Chris. I only ever get 'Chris' with the old Company. Been so long since I've been Chris I've forgotten what it's like." She was yelling and now she lowered her voice. "All Julia ever knew was fear. All The Lady ever knew was violence. All Darkness knew was obligation. Chris is dead. All that's left is the empty shell that remains when something dies of a broken heart." Hate welled in her voice. "The old man destroyed Chris..."

"Pita." Mickey didn't like where this was going. Chris was beyond angry, and going to pieces in front of Justin would make her expendable.

"The deal was for the artifact. Not for its location." She stared coldly into Justin's eyes. Justin started toward her, but Mickey put his arm against him to stop him getting anywhere near Chris.

"You're going to pay her the full amount you promised her, right?"

"Yes," Justin managed to sound exasperated, "and twice for the half hour of Julia."

"Just checking, because she saved my butt out there and I'd be really upset if anything happened to her."

"Manna Building thirty-seventh floor," Chris began unexpectedly. She glanced at Mickey and then at Justin to see if this 'Old Company' man who had begun championing her believed Justin or if he would be willing to push the point. Deciding he would stand his ground, she continued in a sharp voice as Justin started the recorder he had in his pocket. "South-west corner office thirty-seven-oh-three, terminal SA one-hundred and nineteen. Access code four three eight hotel two seven." She turned the cigarette box over and over in her hands, making a rhythmic tapping sound and began to pace the length of the wall. "The other floors are private offices. Access to the thirty-seventh floor is via two elevator shafts, one stairwell, two alarmed fire escapes and ventilation unit. Full security complement of twenty-two...." She continued to outline the security system, staff hours, front details with all the particulars.

Mickey stepped away from Justin, who was perched on the closest table, and watched Chris's recital. She moved awkwardly, hunched over, her eyes moving over unseen pages. Over and over she turned the box. She was good, knew what to look for, very detailed and Justin had known to get out his recorder: they had done this before. Abruptly she stopped, mid-sentence, mid-stride and she ceased the noisy turning of the cigarette box. "Where's the old man?"

Justin looked at her blankly.

"You're here. Where's the old man?" she repeated.

"They shot him," Justin told her. "He's in hospital in a coma in New York."

"Probably serves him right," she said darkly and started again with the box and the pacing. "There are four cameras in the office," she continued, "each on a movement sensor." She stopped again.

"We've been over the cameras," Justin pointed out.

Chris stared blankly into space.

"Your plan for getting in?" Justin prompted her.

"The payroll's on a standalone computer, want..." She stopped again.

"Darkness." Justin tried to bring her back to the recital. Mickey brought his attention back to them. "Lady!" Justin raised his voice. She turned to him slowly but did not focus on him.

"It's a standalone..." Chris answered, but she was not concentrating any more.

"That's enough." Mickey interrupted before Justin got another chance to yell at her. "How long since you last slept, Chris?" He walked over to her. She looked confused. "Bet it's at least twenty-four hours"

"More like thirty-four. I had intended to sleep before raiding Marco's, hit them at three A.M. so I'd get the least resistance, so I was pushing it before Scott insisted I rescue you." She focused her eyes on Mickey.

"No wonder you can't think straight." Ignoring Justin's irritated look, Mickey indicated she should move to the dormitory. "And I bet you've been sleeping shifts with Scotty for weeks on end, too." So Chris and Scott had been traveling at night, smart lady. He glanced back at Justin as they left, daring him to stop him. Justin shook head in disapproval, with a 'you'll keep' expression.


Robert sat on a hard wooden chair, next to the dim lamp on the floor in the corner opposite the door. Scott was unconscious on a camp bed next to him. Robert was resting his eyes, but he was in no way sleeping. Since Scott was resting, he had been listening to Justin and Chris. He opened his eyes briefly to check that it was Mickey and Chris entering the room.

"Here, sit down." Mickey offered a chair by the wall. "You've got a cut on your face. I'll get something and clean it up for you." Mickey went over and got the kit from by Robert's feet. They exchanged a glance in the dim light. Mickey made his way back to Chris. He could see how she got the name Darkness. It described her aptly, from the expression on her face to the posture of her body, something deep and beyond despair. He pulled another chair from the wall and put it opposite her, then went back to get some water and antiseptic from the basin and a couple of towels before sitting in front of her. He wet a washcloth but paused before touching her face. As soon as their eyes met, her face reddened and her eyes filled with tears.

"I told him that I'd never forgive him for not leaving me dead in Jason's box. I told him I'd never forgive him for South America," she croaked hoarsely. "The last thing I said to him was I hated him." She rubbed her face with the back of her hands. "I didn't mean it."

"Who?" Mickey asked.

"Control," she whispered.

"You're crying for Control?" he asked incredulously. "Chris, he knows people." He softened his voice. "He knows you didn't mean it." He reached forward to clean her face. "Come on, you're tired, let's get you cleaned up."

"Someone has to do your wrists," she observed practically, as he cleaned the cut on her face.

"You promise to be gentle this time?" Mickey waited but she didn't answer him. "What about the rest of you? Let's get a look." He got up, reached back to get his bag and got out a spare tee-shirt for her to wear, then helped her remove her shirt.

Chris's arms were a covered in a myriad of recent scars, there were almost fully healed scars where her wrists had been cut and half her fingers on her left hand had been crushed some time ago. There were needle marks along the inside of her arm. She was bruised from her fight with the guard, probably a couple of cracked or more likely re-cracked ribs, but no more cuts. He helped her with his tee shirt. Her legs also bore a couple of bruises but were relatively unscathed. She sat still and stared for the most part as he treated them.

"You should sleep," he suggested.

"I'll do your wrists first," she replied. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"Not that I know of," he answered and helped her remove his shirt. He had a few more fresh cuts than she from his run in with 'Big and Burly' and she took care of the ones he could not easily reach. Then, she sat in front of him again and began to unwrap his wrists. She was struggling to keep her eyes open, but she was gentle as she completed the task. "I can take care of the rest," he said. "You need sleep."

"You're cut."

"I'll do it." He got up and helped her into the next bed from Scott. He sank to the floor next to it and sat there next to the wall.

"Is she asleep, Mickey?" Robert waited a few minutes before asking the question.

"Oblivious."

"You do know who she is, don't you?"

"The lady who stole Vincent White out of Jason's office," Mickey informed him.

"Vincent White?"

"Rumor has it that a few years ago Jason hired an outfit called 'Maven Inc.' to retrieve a computer hacker named Vincent White. The Lady who ran the operation delivered Vincent White to Justin and Jason personally. She kidnapped Vincent out of the Jason's office in the Company building. The committee was publicly embarrassed and ordered her shot on sight as a message to rest of Maven to stick its head in. There was a big hoo-ha about it."

"Maven is a contract retrievals group, isn't it?"

"I don't know, McCall. All I know is Chris is in a hell of a lot of trouble. I think she knows more about what's going on than Justin does, and she's involved with the Company way over her head."

"I think she is Marguerite Flynn's daughter," Robert added.

"Chrissy Flynn?" He examined the face that slept on the bed next to him. "Now that's a kid with couple of good reasons to hate Control."

"My thoughts exactly."

*****

Robert was still sitting by Scott when Mickey woke up that afternoon, although he had obviously washed and dressed. The windowless room was uncomfortably hot. Chris was still asleep.

"Justin and his minions are leaving. He's putting Jason in a safe house and is going to send Smith back with the plane," Robert informed Mickey as Mickey dragged himself into a sitting position. "I had an interesting talk with your friend, Justin."

"Really."

"He went out of his way to tell me Control told him Chris knew the location of two payrolls and he was concerned that poor little Chris might go after the other one by herself."

"Yeah, I bet he was." Mickey got up, hauling on his jacket and stalked out to the hanger. "Hey, Justin."

"Kostmayer."

"You don't need three planes. Leave us one plane and a pilot."

"Two planes, the other will be landing in three minutes with a medic for McCall's son." Justin eyed Mickey top to toe. "You might ask him to take a look at you while he's at it."

"Then, you don't leave until he lands."

"I like it better when you work for us, Mickey. You know I am the only thing keeping the wolves at bay."

"What about Chris? You're just going to throw her to them?"

"Darkness has a brand of trouble all her own. You don't want to be involved with that."

"Tell me about it." Mickey stood in his way and in front of the plane. Justin wasn't going anywhere. "She's the Lady Jason had beaten to death because she stole Vincent White from right under your nose, which is an odd thing because she's still alive. So is killing her still sanctioned?"

"Officially, she is dead but the order was never rescinded," Justin lowered his voice. There were too many agents in the hangar for this argument. "She turned up with Control. She had told him that exclusive information Maven had sold to the Company was now in Tresser's possession. I wasn't even aware Darkness and Control knew each other." Justin protested his innocence. "He was the first person I heard call her Chris. They appeared to know each other very well," Justin sounded surprised.

"You knew her before that?"

"Darkness was the contact for Maven. She took the jobs and hired the mercenaries. Once upon a time, she was very, very good, very discreet, kept herself out of the Company's business. The Company closed her down after the incident with Vincent White."

"So what do you want from her now?"

"Vincent White." Justin watched a plane come in. "Your plane is here." He took two steps backward and then turned to get into his waiting plane. Justin was lying to him. He could feel it. Mickey didn't know what about, but Justin was too much Control's student for him to expect the whole truth.

*****

Mickey greeted Smith and directed Cameron, the doctor, to Robert and Scott in the dormitory. He found Chris in the mess hall. She was sitting at a table eating breakfast cereal from the box, with her hand. She had a mug of something dark and murky that was supposed to be tea or coffee to wash it down.

"Hi." Mickey sat down across from her. She stopped eating and stared at him. He saw the same darkness in her eyes he'd observed that morning. He waited for a response, but she just kept those unnervingly blank eyes on him. "I forgot to thank you for saving my life." That got a reaction - she scowled. "Look," he began cautiously. "I worked with Marguerite."

"Used to be," Chris said wistfully, "if a Company man greeted me that way, I'd ask him if he was my daddy."

"I'm not that old." He risked a half smile. "Did you know we've met before? I don't know whether you remember. It was in Africa. You picked my pocket just like you did to Justin this morning. Robert kicked up one hell of a fuss about you with Marguerite, because you were ten and couldn't string together a sentence in a single language." Her eyes flickered to the dormitory door as if expecting Robert to appear, before returning to his face. Mickey continued, "Marguerite was a good agent, but I suspect you're better."

"That line usually means a guy wants something." Chris put her elbows on the table, knitted her fingers and rested her head on them.

"Okay," he agreed. "Justin tells me that Control said you had your eyes on two payrolls. Now you've sent them after one and the leak is watching them. So, we're going after the other."

"I will not be manipulated by Justin," she retorted. "I have no intention of going after that payroll for them. I don't work for the Company and I don't care if they go to hell."

"I don't work for the Company either. I walked out seven years ago. Robert hasn't worked for them for nineteen years. Somehow, I don't think that cuts any ice with Tresser though -- he doesn't care, as long as we're dead." He searched her face for a reaction. "Look, Robert isn't going to give up until he knows his son is not in danger and I don't believe you're going to let it lie, either."

"If Tresser wanted me dead, I'd be dead."

"That was before the leak was discovered, when killing you would have gotten unwanted attention. Now that it's pretty much given there's a leak, he's got nothing to lose. No matter how good you think you are, you're not going to be able to lose me. I've been tailing people since," he smiled wickedly, "since before you started dating."

"I thought you said you're not that old." A smile teased her lips against her will.

"Come on, Chris, what are you going to do?"

"Take Scott back to New York like I promised him."

"Scott's coming with me. If you're going after Tresser's payroll anyway, wouldn't you appreciate some competent backup?"

Chris straightened abruptly. "Dinner and escort to a concert."

Mickey blinked, lost. "What?"

"Scott owes me a ticket to one of his concerts for getting him out and home. If I help you get Tresser's payroll, you owe me a pretty dress, a nice dinner, fine wine and your arm to take to go to the concert."

"What did you charge Justin?" Mickey was intrigued by her barter system.

"Control," she corrected him. "Him getting the Company to leave me the hell alone for the rest of my god-damned existence."

"What?" Mickey couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Don't worry, Justin will pay me the standard rate."

"Chris," Mickey offered in a sudden rush of sympathy for the woman, "McCall and I know a lot of people. If you need help with keeping the Company off your back, we'll do it. How's that for a deal?"

"And the dinner and concert."

Mickey's heart almost broke as he realized how lonely she must be to charge a concert ticket for a rescue and a date to that concert for Tresser's list. But he had to find something out first. "What about the dope?" He asked pointedly. "I saw the track marks."

She had the grace to blush. "You keep tabs on the Company," she mumbled. "What do you know about Vincent White?"

"Hacker, kid, Jason wanted him badly. You delivered him, and then you liberated him." He kept his face a mask, not letting on how much he knew and how much was guesswork.

"He was thirteen years old." Intensity glowed in her eyes. "Jason had sold him some cock-and-bull story about how great it would be to work for him. When Vincent got a look at what the job was really like, he just wanted time to make the decision." There was pain in her voice. "We were in Justin's office, but Jason had brought us in. When Vincent said he didn't want to stay, I got him out of there. It was too public -- I was thinking like an amateur. Everyone knew what I had done so they had to make an example out of me. When I was caught, Jason had me locked in a box and beaten. They wanted Vincent back. When he realized that I didn't know the location of Vincent White, he had me killed." She looked away. "Someone resuscitated me and put me in a hiding place. The drugs made it go away for a while." She met Mickey's eyes and gave a weak smile. "Mind you, a couple of weeks in the bottom of Marco's prison was one hell of a way to go through withdrawal."

Mickey had a flash of just how screwed they could be if she hadn't really gotten over the dope. "I have to ask this, so don't take it personally. Are you up for this? Think hard now. Are you really up for it? If you're not, if you're even a little unsure, we can arrange for you to be someplace safe till it's over."

"I suspected Tresser had someone in the Company on his payroll before I stole Vincent White. I just didn't know who to tell. I wasn't speaking to Control, and I barely knew Justin. Tresser knew I was on to him and had me framed. The Company might have let me walk away if not for that. If I don't go after Tresser, there's nothing left for me."

"And if you do, there'll be a hell of a lot of temptation in front of you." He meant drugs. She knew it.

"And if I sit on my hands, there'll be less? Hell, Mickey, all I have to do is find an elementary school playground for temptation. Don't sell me short. I've never done anything to risk the people I work with, and I don't intend to start now."

"Addictions can screw up your head," Mickey shot back. "Can you honestly tell me you're not craving to get high?"

Chris sighed, eyes sliding away. "I can't honestly tell you I crave for anything."

It was Mickey's turn to sound intense. "You come with me, and tell me how you're doing, so I can help you. If you try to screw any of us over, you'll be in a safe house so fast your head will spin. I'll deal with McCall. You will tell us everything you know about the second payroll."

"I don't know all that much. It crossed my path a few years ago in Chechnya. I didn't know what I'd found. It was just another piece of merchandise I'd lifted." Mickey nodded at her to continue and stood. Watching her eat was making him hungry. He walked over and opened the cupboard, looking for more cereal. "I knew I was in trouble when I got a look at it, so I stashed it in a chess set."

"What happened to it?"

"There was this Russian general. His real name is Yuri Cristo. He took it as a trophy when he dumped me in prison. He keeps ... mementos, so I think he still has it. But I don't think he knows the payroll's in it.

"This is gonna be fun." Mickey selected a box, tore the top off and sat back down. "First step, find Cristo. Then find out if he's still got it, and where. If he hasn't still got it, who does, and where are they?"

"Well, dear old Yuri got himself into a little trouble - got caught misappropriating military hardware, among other things. He's on the run both from the Russian government and the mafia. Last place I had him traced to was a cargo ship named the 'Wayward Star'."

"How long ago was that?"

"My memory is mash. I don't even know what year it is anymore. It was over a year after I took Vincent, and shortly before the Company caught up with me." She shook her head, sighing. "If I can get to one of my contacts, I might be able to get a fix on him."

"I'd rather get moving on this right now," Mickey mused. "I'll put some calls in, hopefully by the time we land, we'll have a bite."

Robert came over. "The doctor has finished with Scott. He assures me he will be fine. Now, what have you two been up to?"

"Chris," Mickey grinned at her, "is going to help us find Tresser's Payroll."

"Mickey has promised me that you two will rescue me from the Company," Chris informed the older man.

"Has he? Has he, really?" Robert studied her for a moment. "Why do you need to be rescued?"

"Because she stole Vincent White from under Jason's nose," Mickey confirmed.

"Mickey," Chris put in patiently. "The Company has to learn that thirteen-year-old boys are not legitimate merchandise. I have no sworn loyalty to the Company. I was fully within my contract. I delivered him. I never agreed to keep him there. Besides, I charged the kid two-fifty and a bus ticket, so they have nothing to complain about."

"You must have known you wouldn't be allowed to get away with it." Mickey shook his head. He wasn't sure whether it was more disbelief or admiration.

"They'll thank me for it one day, when the sucker comes back saying he just couldn't pass up the chance to hack for the Greater Good. If I'd left him there they'd just have been stuck with another Company brat they can't control. Besides, what use are ill-gotten gains if you're not alive nor well enough to use them?"

Mickey shook his head again. "You should go see Doc Cameron next."

"Oh, now you're a gentleman," she shot him an ironic smile. "Now when you don't want to go in there any more than I do"

"I can wait," Mickey said, as he dug out the last of his cereal. Chris got up and slipped around the table. Mickey noticed that she was wearing his pants with the belt tied to keep them up, as well as his shirt. "I hope you left me something to wear," he grumbled good-naturedly. She shot him a 'what did you expect' glance over her shoulder, but he could tell how nervous she was as she walked away. He thought ruefully that she probably knew exactly what would happen next. As Robert sat, he filled him in on her drug addiction and his promise to her, and settled in to wait for the explosion.

For once, Robert did not rise to the occasion. Instead, he removed his glasses, rubbed his eyes tiredly and replaced them. "We can't rely on her, Mickey. What do you want me to say? She's a time bomb just waiting to go off."

"And if we cut her out of it, she'll be dead before we get home. You want that for Marguerite's daughter? Look, she'll be my responsibility."

"So she can take you with her when she self-destructs?" Robert shook his head. "Control should have done something about that child a long time ago." Then, he added through gritted teeth, "She's a liability."

"McCall, she saved my life last night and she kept Scott alive and got him away from Marco. This is my way of repaying her. She falls apart, she'll be gone. Right now, she's with me."

"You know that's not good enough Mickey. I don't have a safe place I can put Scott, and I…" he broke off, massaging his forehead with his fingertips. "Damn it, Mickey."

"The best place for both of them is right with us, McCall. Scott seems to be pretty capable of taking care of himself, too. You keep an eye on him, and I'll keep Chris in line."

"Just how much trouble do you think she is in with the Company? I overheard Justin offering her a job, so it can't be too unforgivable." McCall shook his head, clearly unhappy. "I do hope you know what you're doing, Mickey. I do, indeed hope that."

"Don't I always?" Mickey tossed off flippantly. "Don't answer that!" He paused to let the joke fade away, then said with conviction, "It'll be fine."

"Seriously Mickey," McCall began, but Mickey forestalled him.

"It will be fine." When McCall didn't reply, he changed the subject. "Found out an interesting thing from Justin, the Company put out a hit on her that's never been withdrawn, even when they thought she was dead. "She really pissed off the weasel."

"And yet none of Justin's people felt particularly obliged to shoot her?"

"Not a one," Mickey confirmed.

"I have a feeling somebody is going to an immense amount of trouble to keep Miss Flynn breathing and out of a little rubber room. If we are entertaining her as our guest, you better see what you can find out about her. What do you have on Tresser's payroll?"

"It's on microfilm, in a chessboard. Yuri Cristo had it last. Chris had him tracked to the 'Wayward Star' but who knows how long ago that was."

"Well, you're going to be busy then, aren't you?"

*****
Mickey screwed up his face as the database once again told him that the information he sought was not available or was restricted. He knew he would have to wait for the information on Tresser. He had to be careful there not to tip them off. He put out a few requests on the Wayward Star and whether Yuri Cristo was on her, but it would take time for Jonah to get back to him. He had already exhausted his sources looking for the name Chris Flynn in relation to the apartment, so he tried a few variations now he knew that he was looking for Marguerite Flynn's daughter, but still found nothing.

Darkness had a reputation much as Justin had told him. Darkness was a contact or 'principal' for a group called Maven Inc. She had developed a habit of taking on and completing risky missions. The last mission she'd pulled off for the Company, she really had blown a building up with herself inside and walked unscathed from the rubble, but she had locked herself in a vault to achieve it. Well after the incident with Vincent White, he noted.

After typing in so many passwords he felt sure he was going to be told he didn't have access, he finally came up with a file on Maven, Inc. He checked the door to his side as Robert came in to ascertain his progress.

"No joy yet on Tresser, but I've found some real interestin' stuff on Maven, Inc. She works for some real characters." Mickey scrolled down on the screen. "Maven, Inc. doesn't appear to have much of a sense of humor."

"They rarely ever do," Robert replied thoughtfully, "What is it this lot is so grim about?"

"They're a contract retrievals group. They're unusual, though -- they have a strict code of conduct, and severe penalties for anyone who breaks it. It's based on what they term 'fair game'. A person is either involved, or not involved in the game and Maven doesn't cross the line." Mickey shook his head, incredulous at such temerity. "Maven even refuses work if it violates their code of conduct. In spite of that, they are considered highly capable and discreet."

"A freelance group with ethics."

"Yeah, but Maven has a real nasty streak. You cross these guys and they just kill you." Mickey frowned. "It's pretty exclusive, the Company has only identified thirteen members. They hire mercenaries for the footwork but only the principals who run the operations actually work for Maven. That's what Chris does. Over ninety per cent of her work was for the Company and other government organizations." Mickey grinned. "Now that's clever."

"What?" Robert leaned over Mickey and peered at the screen.

"Maven has an interesting employee protection policy. If anyone assassinates one of Maven's principals, the others respond in kind."

"No wonder no one was eager to shoot Chris," Robert observed

"Being killed on the job is acceptable, being hunted down isn't." Chris appeared at the doorway. "It's the only way the principals can protect each other."

"You'd hunt them down?" Mickey turned to her.

"Without question," she replied icily. "I told them I wasn't dead. Jason is not in danger."

"That was very kind of you," Robert remarked. "I don't think he would be so generous."

"It wasn't generous," she said coldly. "I wasn't dead." She shifted her eyes from Robert to Mickey. "The doctor's waiting for you."

"I'll go in a minute. So, whose idea was it to put a Company hit out on you?" Mickey tried to distract her. Chris looked like hell; whatever the doctor had said to her had upset her and he didn't want her pushed.

"It sounds like Control's backward logic," Robert suggested. "Put a hit out on you so no one will kill you."

She took off.

"Chris." Mickey tried to stop her.

"We should put her in a safe house," Robert repeated.

"According to this, this is what she does and she's very good at it."

"I can read, Mickey, but I can also see that whatever has happened to her has affected her."

"What do you want from her? She's tracked down two of Tresser's payrolls, rescued Scott and got us out of Marco's." Mickey reminded him. "After what Tresser's mole has done to her, you're going to deny her the opportunity to go after him?"

*****

Robert found Chris sitting on the floor against the wall out in the moonlight. He pulled over the nearest chair of a group that were lined up against the building and sat opposite her.

"Chris," he said gently. "What did Cameron say?"

"He said I was recovering well." She looked lost.

"Did he suggest you talk to someone?"

"I've long since run out of people to talk to." She stared in to the middle distance. "You didn't perhaps find out how long Jason held me for?"

"No."

"Last clear date I remember," She frowned, "was almost three years ago." This had obviously come as a shock to her. She looked up at him. "You can hear a lot of what is said in the mess from the dormitory. Tricky, that."

"Yes. I heard your conversation with Justin."

"I understand; if I were in your position, I wouldn't want me either," she conceded. "The doctor said it wasn't my fault, if that means anything to you."

"I understand that you are ill, but if you were in my position, what would you do?"

"I'd have to decide which was the greater risk; not having backup, letting me go after Tresser or finding someone else and hoping Tresser doesn't notice. I don't trust Justin and I don't trust the Company and I can offer you another alternative."

"And that would be?"

"I could help you contact some unaligned mercenaries who are loyal to me. I can vouch that they have no business with Tresser or the Company. It would depend on how much time we have, I haven't been in contact for a few years, so it could take a while. But if you burn my people, I'll kill you." She studied McCall for a reaction.

"I believe you," Robert assured her. "I will weigh up my options and consider your offer." He smiled reassuringly. "If we are to help you, Chris, we need to know what trouble you are in with the Company.

"I do not know the location of Vincent White," she recited.

"That is not negotiable. Is that all they want from you?"

"Don't ask me a question I cannot answer." She met his eye and used the same tone of voice Justin had learnt to imitate from Control.

"Okay, Chris." He would have laid a comforting hand on her if he'd thought she would accept the gesture, but every part of her said 'don't touch'. "Don't give up."

******

Mickey moved his wrists stiffly in the bandages that Cameron had applied, casting his eyes over the unconscious Scott. The doctor had prescribed sleep, but he had too many questions to follow the prescription. He checked the door as Robert entered.

"Hey, the doc told you to sleep," Mickey chided his friend good-naturedly.

"I think Cameron told everyone to sleep," he answered gruffly.

"Still hate taking orders, I see." Mickey shrugged off the rebuke. He decided not to get up from his sitting position in the middle of his bed. He had hours to wait before Jonah would get back to him about the Wayward Star or Yuri Cristo.

"Well, Miss Flynn has offered her resources." Robert stopped at the end of his son's bed.

"Really. And they are?"

"Mercenaries, probably ones she has used through Maven. I think even she realizes she has been out of contact too long for it to be easy for her." He gave the room an irritated scowl. "She does have a fiercely protective streak for those loyal to her."

"Yeah, I noticed that." It was something he respected and a trait he knew well.

"You're right, I do agree that putting her in a safe house would be a waste of time. I don't know, Mickey. I think she will keep it together as long as she has her mind on the job. Whatever trouble she is in with the Company we can probably get her out of it. She has the sense to know she can't discuss the problem openly. How much trouble could she possibly be in?" Mickey just looked at him. "At least lie down and get some rest if you're not going to sleep, Mick." Robert dismissed him before settling back into his chair next to Scott.

Instead, Mickey swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood up. His wrists were itching too much to sleep, and trying to scratch them would make them far worse. Maybe a walk would help take his mind off of them.

"She's sitting outside the south wall," Robert informed him.

Mickey slipped out of the room quickly.

Chris was exactly where Robert told him she would be. Talking, or rather listening, to Smith and Cameron trading stories in the moonlight. Mickey settled down next to her. She welcomed him with a glance. She rested against the wall admiring the moonlight over the sandscape and listening to the stationmaster and the doctor murmur. Mickey relaxed against the wall too.

*****

The next morning, Mickey strolled into the dormitory. He'd caught a few hours sleep on the bench outside, but it still seemed he had to wait for answers to his requests for information. Right now, though, he wanted to check on Scott.

"Hey, Scott. How're you doin'?" The man, still looking wan, lay on the bed. Mickey made himself comfortable on Chris's cot. She'd said she would sleep when it got too hot to do anything else.

"I feel fine, as long as I don't move," Scott tried a grin. "You look worse than I do."

"I'll be better any minute now. Don't you know I'm indestructible?"

"Mickey," Scott seemed to have to gather his strength. "Dad shouldn't have come. He's not indestructible. Not anymore."

"Don't let him hear you say that," Mickey admonished. "Seriously. Do you think anyone could have stopped him? Not me. Not till he knew you were safe. Speaking of safe, you just don't know how to stay in one place, do you?"

"You were taking too long," Scott tried that grin again. "I got bored."

"We did the best we could. It took a while to track you down."

"We did all right. We just didn't plan on having to rescue you from execution." The younger man was going to make the most of that. After all the times Mickey'd saved him, it was refreshing to have returned the favour.

"Did I say thanks?"

"Not that I remember. But I figure I owed you a few, and we were kind of busy."

"Let's just call it even."

"What happened to the Lady?" Scott asked. "I haven't seen her."

"I'm kinda surprised she hasn't come to check on you. I'll send her in."

"What do you think of her, Mickey?"

"First thing, I think you should call her Chris. That's her name, after all. Why do you put her on a pedestal?"

Scott blinked, then realized what Mickey meant. "She never told me her name. Wise called her 'Lady'. I don't think either of them meant it as an honour -- more like thinking of her as a non-person." Scott seemed to lose his words. "She's just..."

"Just what?"

"Well, she doesn't seem to think of herself as a person. The only other name she gave me was 'Darkness', and sometimes that was all she was. She would give me my options, and let me choose. She never chose our path for us, never decided anything for me. The only thing she ever said that might be personal was just before we went to break into Marco's place."

"And what was that?"

"That she had no one waiting for her," Scott reported sadly.

*****

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