Arriving at the airfield, Steve questioned the flight personnel on missing flight 2589. One airport attendant recalled two men carrying on a stretcher an ailing woman to the aircraft.

“Long, wavy brown hair?” Steve specified, his eyes lighting up with eager anticipation of the man’s answer.

“Yeah. They said she was real sick and needed emergency medical attention. I found it weird that they should charter a regular plane and not a mede-vac.”

“Weird indeed,” Richard scoffed.

“Where we they headed?” Steve asked.

“Amsterdam, but their plane vanished off the screen somewhere near Mount Amadablam. Lots of gale force winds in that area. It’s impossible to dispatch a rescue party by air or by ground.”

“I need the exact latitude and longitude where they went down.”

“Sure.”

Back at their hotel, Richard fixed a couple of drinks while Steve got on the phone to Oscar.

“Oscar I got it! They were taking Cassie out to Amsterdam when the plane crashed on Mount Amadablam.”

“How many people were on board?”

“Apparently just two. The unconscious brown-haired woman, which I have no doubt was our missing girl and de Rossi’s brother, Terrence. Greico didn’t take the flight. He stayed behind.”

“Sabotage?”

“Maybe. But I doubt de Rossi would want to get rid of his brother.”

“Perhaps he found out he was double-crossing him.”

“Your guess’s as good as mine. Oscar the latitude and longitude degrees closely match the ones where my father’s plane went down.”

Oscar yanked off his glasses at the news. “What?”

“My Little Girl, you remember?”

“Of course I remember.”

“Oscar I know where it is. I want to go after her.”

“Steve that’s crazy. You know what happened the last time you were there?”

“I found answers to my questions.”

“Two people were killed and you got a close call,” Oscar reminded curtly.

“Oscar this is different. Queng-Dri’s dead and his tribe have probably deserted the area. Beside I will be climbing alone.”

“This is insane!” Oscar scolded loudly.

“Oscar I’ll call you back when I return.”

“Steve, you c….” he was abruptly cut in mid argument by the sound of the dial tone. “Steve!” Steve!” he shouted angrily into the phone. “Argggggggggggg!” Oscar slammed the receiver into its cradle. “I hate it when he does that.” He took a few seconds to huff out the last of his anger before asking Callahan to book him on a flight to Chengdu.

“What do mean you’ll be climbing alone? I’m coming with you Steve.”

“No you’re not Richard. You need special training to climb those steep mountains and I don’t have time to teach you,” Steve argued.

“Steve for God’s sake I’m not a rookie in the business. I’ve had my share of hills before.”

“Not like this one.”

“You’re going to require backup. You can expect to make it by yourself?”

“I will need backup. You on the ground standing by with a chopper ready to pick us up.”

“Steve!”

“Alright you want to help me? I need a drive to the nearest sportswear store to get geared up.”

Richard heaved an aggravated sigh. “Now I know what Oscar meant.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Let’s go.”

While Steve was purchasing the necessary equipment and warm clothes for his journey into high altitude, Richard dropped by the pharmacy with a list of medical supplies that were bound to be needed.

Early next morning, they chartered a Cessna and took off for Tibet. Once airborne and approaching their destination, Richard took over the controls while Steve changed into his jump suit and strapped on his parachute.

“I’m taking two radios with me,” Steve explained to his pilot friend. “One I’ll bring with me and the other I’ll conceal somewhere in the rocks. That way if mine breaks during the climb I’ll have the second one handy to notify you where and when to meet.”

“Why so far? You’ll have to walk miles.”

“Can’t risk the natives seeing me. I don’t have time to waste trying to navigate around their flying arrows.”

With his telephoto lens he scanned the area below in search of a suitable landing ground before he tossed his survival gear out.

“Good luck Steve!”

“I’ll see soon.” He said with a thumb up before jumping out the plane.

He glided down and smoothly touched the ground. He removed his parachute and stuffed it in a hollow tree trunk before hastening toward the box containing his survival gear. He took out the pack, slung it on his back and tossed the box somewhere inconspicuous. He dipped into his coat pocket for a piece of beef jerky that he nibbled on before taking off at a bionic sprint toward his destination.

He was nearing the feet of the mount when thudding hooves were heard drawing closer. He quickly sought shelter behind a pile of rocks where he crouched down to avoid being spotted.

“They’re still around,” Steve mumbled angrily between clenched teeth, alluding to the tribe passing him by on their horses. He zoomed in on the supposed leader’s face whose features were strikingly similar to Queng-Dri’s. “That can’t be. He’s dead.”

No time to dwell on his discovery, he had to reach his destination. A mere five minutes later, Steve began his ascent to the top. His long arduous climb was not without any incident. After two near falls to his death and a rock slide, Steve decided to halt his journey halfway up to take a breather and replenish his energy with some food. It wasn’t long before he resumed his climb. With each step up the sheer cliff, his heart thundered against his ribcage at the anticipation of nearing his goal.

The sun was slowly setting in the horizon when he finally made his way to top of the cliff. Taking in the desolate view before him with a bleak expression, a chill coursed through his spine. ‘What if I’m too late? Or worse; what is she’s dead?’ he wondered inwardly. He inhaled a cleansing breath to chase the dismal thoughts out of his mind before climbing down to the other side of the mountain. He reached the plateau in record time and started scanning the surroundings for any sign of the small aircraft. Thankfully his winter attire provided a warm shelter against the icy gale force winds as he pressed on.

When he stopped to ram his hat below his ears and adjust his muffler over his nose, he frowned at what appeared to be the carcass of a small aircraft. No sooner had he zoomed in on the object in question to establish identification that horror struck him at the thought of his friend trapped in the wreck. He dashed over to the plane to search for any survivor. With one bionic yank, he tore off the hatch on the side of the plane and crawled inside the fuselage only to find the pilot’s and de Rossi’s frozen corpses. H e slipped back out to scan the surrounding area for any sign of a woman’s body lying on the ground.

“Cassie!” he called out at the top of his lungs, the mountain echoing with his shout. As he scrutinized the plateau in search of the tinniest clue as to where his friend could be, a twig protruding from the ground caught his attention. As he slowly walked over to it, he soon spotted a second branch erected a few yards to the left. He glanced up and noticed a third one. A knowing grin tugged at his lips knowing this was 35’s familiar trail of breadcrumbs.

He set out to follow the yellow brick road that led him to the carcass of “My Little Girl”. The second he took in the sight of his father’s WWII plane, Steve froze in shock. Time stood still as raw memories of his first ascension with Chris Bell and the ensuing harrowing discovery came flooding back in a rushing torrent of vivid images. He whipped himself out of his trance and took a deep breath before pressing on.

Nearing the plane, he willingly averted his pained eyes from his father’s grave to remain focused on his goal of finding me. Inside the severed fuselage there I was lying on the icy cold floor with two thin blankets mantling my frozen body. Steve rushed to my side and dove to his knees to take my pulse.

“Brown-Eyed Girl, wake up.” He coaxed with delicate taps on my cheeks, the coldness of my skin burning right through his hand. The cyanosis apparent on my lips and fingernails were evidence that I was knocking on death’s door. Quickly Steve unstrapped his backpack and unfurled the sleeping bag that he unzipped before gingerly laying my limp body in it. He spread a thermal blanket over me before zipping the bag close. “Come on, Cassie. Wake up! You’ve come this far, don’t give up now.” He rubbed the heat back into my cheeks before he worked his hands down to my arms neatly tucked underneath the sleeping bag.

I was encased in an ice block; my senses were numbed to the core. I vainly attempted to chip that ice and break free to grab on to the gentle hands generating the heat I felt slowly returning to my frozen limbs. I could hear the muffled voice piercing through the thick icy haze enfolding me. I recognized it. It was Steve’s. No it couldn’t be. It was a dream. I was hallucinating. The fear of disappointment was greater than my curiosity. I mentally curled up in my prison and waited for the Grim Reaper to claim my soul.

The hands were all over my body, rubbing, prodding, and poking. The voice gradually invaded my dull mind. Ambiguous sounds were replaced by intelligible words. I bravely leapt off my iceberg to swim to shore where I pried open my leaden eyelids to identify the source of the coaxing. I frowned at the hazy figure hovering over me.

“Hey, Brown-Eyed Girl. Welcome back,” Steve greeted with a beaming smile, momentarily stopping his rubbing to delicately stroke my cheek.

“Stttttteve? I quavered weakly in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah.”

“Dr…drrrrrrrre….dreammmmmm.”

“No it’s not a dream. I’m real. Here,” he placed his hands on either side of my cheeks, “feel me. It’s real.”

“Coooooolllllld.”

“I know you are but you’ll be warming up in a bit.” He raised my head slightly to assist me in drinking a few sips of water out of his canteen. “Here, drink a bit of water for me. We’ve got to get you hydrated. Easy. Just a few sips for now.”

I nodded that I had enough to moisten my parched throat and he gently eased my head back onto the makeshift pillow he’d made with the two thin blankets. “Th….thhhhhhhanks. How….howww d’ya finnnnnnd meeee,” I quavered.

“I followed your trail of breadcrumbs,” Steve informed amusedly as he continued to rub my arms.

“Res…rescues?”

“Too risky with the high winds.”

“th…thought so.” An involuntarily shudder coursed through my thawing body when my PPC (Platonic Prince Charming)’s hands went to my waist.

“Ticklish?”

“Us..usuallll…usually but now I can hardly feeeeeeeeel a thing. I’m icy cold.”

“I’ll go gather some fire wood to build us a fire. Will you be okay?”

I shut my eyes and exhaled my response with a feeble nod of the head. “Muuuuuch better now…now…that yo…..you’re heeeeeeeeere.”

He bent down to kiss me on the forehead before he stepped out of the carcass to buckle down to his task. Minutes later he fashioned a hearth with sands and rocks before lighting the twigs and dry sprigs with matches. He then settled me near the burning flame and resumed his rubbing.

“We’ll get you all warmed up, after which I’ll cook us a hot meal.”

“I don’t thhhhhhink I c…could eat anything.”

“Wait till your body warms up a bit. You’ll feel different. You need some wholesome nourishment to replenish your energy. Tomorrow we have a long climb down.”

“I tr….tried to c…climb down but I twisted my…my ankle.”

“Are you in pain? Want me to look at it?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s…it’s okay. No pain. Besides I d…don’t want to open the bag and le…let the cold in.”

Steve looked up at me and winked. “Fine mess you got yourself into,” he teased.

“You sh…should talk,” I chaffed back. “There was aaaaaaaaa subversive element thrown in the mix: Pet…Pete Marteen. He’s the one who recognized me.”

“I kind of figure it was him. He and Alexander Grieco were once partners at the OSI. Greigo’s one of the men who escorted you out of the hotel.”

“How…how do you know that?”

A janitor saw you and described your abductors to us. We ran the composites in the main frame and identified the two as Alex Grieco and Patton McCulloch. McCulloch’s the one who chartered the plane.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Alexander Greico.”

“It’s no wonder. He was kicked out of the organisation before you joined the team. It’s safe to assume he and Marteen kept in touch all these years.”

I nodded and closed my eyes to breathe in deeply before gazing at my saviour. “I had a feeling you’d come looking for me.”

“I nearly didn’t. Oscar wanted to keep your disappearance from me because he needed me for another mission.

“Did you find the message I left at the hotel?”

“The thirty-five-marked envelope with the coded address underneath the carpet? Yes I did. It must have taken you a long time to encrypt it. Why not just tell Oscar?”

“I was. But I had a feeling I was being watched. I jogged down the message just in case something happened to me between the room and the lobby where I planned to report to the boss. I couldn’t take a chance on the phone in the room being tapped.”

“Good thinking. Agent Hayden and I drove to the location and I scanned the premises. I spotted three surveillance cameras within the wall. Nice work 35”

“I had another lead when I was caught. They were flying me to Amsterdam to be brainwashed like their other subservient agents when…” my quavering voice faltered as the horrific images of the crash flooded my mind.

Steve brushed his knuckles delicately against my cheek and with a comforting lopsided grin, he said. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

I reciprocated the warm smile. “I know. However I have the microfilm containing the list of their new agents abroad. This will hopefully enable the FBI to dismantle the network. This to tell you the mission wasn’t a complete flop.”

“Where is it?”

“Neatly tucked inside my shirt pocket. I got it from de Rossi’s brother after he died.”

“You’re terrific, you know that?”

“I’m beginning to.”

“How about some grub?”

“I’m game.”

Steve’s expert culinary skills were put to the test as he set out to whip out a feast with little food he had packed. My stomach was twisted in knots but it nevertheless greedily welcomed the hot meal. During dinner we kept the conversation going with our respective plans for the upcoming holidays and we ended the pleasant evening with some steamy black coffee.

“Are you sure you’re warm enough in that sleeping bag?” Steve asked with a touch of concern at the apparent shivers that still racked my body.

“Normally I would, just that I’m so chilled to the bone that only a hot bath could get rid of those shudders.”

“How about a warm body?”

“You’ve got one?”

“Me.”

“I’m going to suck all the warmth out of you, Steve.”

“I have enough to spare. That is if you don’t mind sharing that sleeping bag with me?”

“Of course I’ll share. You don’t expect me to hog the whole thing and leave you freezing with only that coat?”

He poked the campfire to stir the flame before he crawled over to me and slid inside the bag. His frame hugged the shape of my body as we huddled together like two spoons in a drawer.

“You wouldn’t be trying to take advantage of me in my weakened condition?” I teased as I wiggled closer to him.

“Told you 35; I love you for your mind not your body. Besides there’s someone else very much infatuated with you.”

“Who?”

“Agent Hayden.”

“Richard Hayden?”

“He wants to ask you out on a date. I promised to put in the good word for him.”

“How nice of you.”

“What do you think of him?” he casually asked.

“He’s okay, but date him?”

“Why not? He’s educated and intelligent. You won’t be lacking any topic of conversation.”

“I don’t know. I’m not much into dating.”

“Don’t I know it? Give him a chance. Just one date. If you don’t accept you’ll make me look bad.”

“Oh well then for the sake of your reputation I assume I have to make an exception,” I sneered.

“That’s my girl. Now get some sleep. We’re climbing down bright and early tomorrow.”

I was suddenly overtaken by a powerful bout of coughing that worried Steve about the possible onset of pneumonia.

At first flush the next morning I was sleeping soundly in the warmth of my platonic prince charming’s arms when he started to stir. He wiggled his toes and prised his eyelids open, blinking a few times to establish focus on his Brown-Eyed Girl curled up beside him. A lopsided grin tugged at his lips at the feel of the heat exuding from my body, evidence that the hypothermia was gone. He gently plucked at my shoulder. “Hey Brown-Eyed Girl, time to wake up.” His answer came in the form of an annoyed moan. “I hate to rouse you before eight o’clock but this is an emergency,” he whispered in my ear before he unzipped the bag.

Moans grew into groans as my dull mind gradually swam to the surface. I finally broke through with a loud yawn. I swivelled my head to the right where I was greeted by a warm smile. “Sleep well?”

“Under the circumstances, yes,” I yawned and coughed.. “What time is it?”

Steve glanced down at his watch. “A little over seven.” He crawled out of the bag and quickly zipped it back up to avoid letting the cold air from wafting in. “I’ll get a fire going and whip us up a quick breakfast.”

“You handle the fire. I’ll cook breakfast.”

“You sure? Better stay bundled up to keep the heat. You’ll need it. It’s going to be mighty cold going down.”

“I’ve stock up on plenty thanks to you. I’ll be okay.”

“Alright,” he conceded with a shrug. He rose to his feet and walked out of the plane carcass to gather firewood while I searched through his knapsack for some can goods.

Once we’ve stuffed our bellies and gathered our things, Steve dressed me in his coat, hat and mittens. He knelt down to swathe both my feet in the two thin blankets that he fashioned into makeshift boots. He was heedful not to brush against my sore ankle as he proceeded to tie the edges around my lower legs. “How’s that feel?”

“You’ll soon put the boot stores out of business if you keep this up,” I teased while I admired his handy work.

He looked up and flashed an amused grin. “Funny.” He stood up and bent over to pick up the knapsack that he strapped onto my back. He squatted down to let me sit astride on his back. I pressed my legs around his hips as he hoisted himself up. “Alright, hold on to your hat. Here we go.”

As he took off at a bionic sprint toward the hill, I clawed at his chest in fear of falling off. The frantic pace at which we were going churned my stomach. I scrunched my eyes together and kept them close until we reached destination.

He stopped and craned his neck back. “You still alive back there?”

“Yeah. Just a bit queasy.”

“Want to take a rest?”

“I should be asking YOU that question.”

“Me. I’m fine. I’m not even panting. You’re light as a feather.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He bounced me on his back to sit me a bit higher before he began scaling up the hill. Barely twenty minutes later, we stood atop the mountain overlooking the grand valley below.

“It sure is a long way down,” I observed with a nervous gulp and let out a wheezing coughed that worried Steve..

Steve lowered me gently on a flattened rock where I rested while he unfastened his climbing gear around his belt. “It’s much easier going down than up. I expect we’ll be on solid ground in less than two hours. That’s how long it took Chris Bell and me the first time we came here. Once there I’ll contact Richard to come pick us up at the rendezvous point.” He unfurled the rope and knotted it to a hook that he drove into the rocks with one bionic thrust of his fist.

“What about the natives you mentioned? Won’t they be trouble?”

“I don’t expect so. Not if we’re careful to avoid been seen. You ready?

I nodded and straddled his back. I wrapped my legs around his hips and my arms around his torso, gripping the harness firmly at his chest as he skilfully glided down the cliff, the knapsack bouncing up and down on my back with each leap. He would pause every fifteen minutes to adjust his gear before resuming the journey down.

Steve lowered me gingerly onto the grass and then removed his harness and hooks, after which he shuffled through the backpack to locate the radio transmitter.

“Cutie calling Ugly. Come in Ugly.”

I sneezed out a chuckle at the nicknames.

“Guess who’s cutie?” he winked. Following ten seconds of static, Steve tried again. “Ugly this is Cutie. Do you copy?

“This is Ugly,” came to scratchy voice over the radio. “I hear you loud and clear. Did you make it down alright?”

Steve glanced at me, sitting on the grass and rubbing my sore ankle. “Yes we did. Cassie’s with me.”

“She’s alive?”

“Boy is she ever! A little worse for wear but nothing a hot bath and a week of rest won’t cure.” I seconded the motion with a stretching yawn that made my eyes water.

“I’ll get on the chopper and meet you at the spot in about an hour.”

“That’s just fine. That’ll give us plenty time to get there.”

“Good luck. Ugly out.”

Steve hunkered down beside me to examine my injury. He untied the blanket around my leg and delicately groped my ankle to feel for any swelling. I gasped in pain when his fingers poked a sensitive area. “Still sore?”

“Uhn uhn,” I moaned between clenched teeth.

“Swelling’s not too bad.”

“How far do we have to walk?”

“A good ten miles.”

“I probably can make it.”

Steve shook his head. “What? I can.”

“I’m sure you can but with that lame leg you’ll slow us down considerably and we cannot afford to waste time.”

“I assume I’ll have to sit in the saddle again?”

“Don’t you like my piggyback rides?”

“Oh they’re lots of fun for me but I bet your back is singing a different tune?”

“I told you. You’re not heavy.” He fixed the blanket around my leg, securing the chord tightly before he beckoned me to hop on his back.

I braced myself for what I thought would be another mad bionic dash but surprisingly, Steve began his trek at a light amble. “At this pace I could have walked myself.”

“You want faster? I’ll give you faster.”

“That’s not what I meant. I….” I clamped my mouth and eyes shut and buried my face in his neck the second he shifted into bionic mode.

When we finally arrived at our destination fifteen minutes ahead of time, I slid down his back and flumped to the ground. My head was spinning from having outstripped the wind, much to Steve’s amusement. “How can you run so fast without getting dizzy?”

“You get used to it after a while. Want to eat something while we wait for the carriage? Shouldn’t be long now.”

“No thanks. I’m okay.” I leaned back against a boulder and sighed reminiscently.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

Tears started suffusing in my eyes at the thought of having cheated death. “Do you realize had you not found me when you did, I’d be dead now?”

“Who says? Stubborn as you are you probably would have hung on another seventy-two hours.”

I shook my head. “Maybe twenty-four hours but certainly not three days. Not without food, clean water and most importantly something and,” I winked at Steve, “Someone to keep me warm. Speaking of warmth, aren’t you cold in just that jacket?”

“No. I’m actually sweating. Besides it’s warmed down here. Can’t you feel it?” He held his nose to the wind to breathe in a good dose of the invigorating mountain air.

“I’m afraid too,” I said as I clutched the winter coat a bit tighter.

He frowned and turned to the distant drone of rotor blades flapping in the wind. He rose to his feet and zoomed in on the tiny chopper drawing closer. “Ugly is here.” He assisted me to my feet and wrapped an arm around my waist. I leaned on him for support to avoid putting pressure onto my ankle.

“Wait!” Steve tugged at my waist to stop me from taking another step.

“What is it?

“Let’s get behind that rock,” Steve suggested and helped me hobble to the boulder behind which we concealed ourselves.

“What? What did you see?”

Steve adjusted his telephoto lens to discern a bunch a tiny ants galloping after the helicopter hovering above. As they drew closer, he identified them as the natives, part of Queng-dri’s tribe who reign supreme over the region. “Ah crap!”

“What?”

“Trouble I surely didn’t expect. Look over there,” he motioned with his head.

I squinted to make out the riders. “There must be a dozen of them.” I remarked grimly.

“Yep!” Steve got on his radio to contact Richard in the chopper. “Cutie calling Ugly. I have you in range.”

“Ugly here. Just a few more minutes and I’ll land.”

“Negative. You’ve got a herd on you tail. Do a goaround, lead them astray. Wait for my signal to land.”

“Copy Cutie.”

Steve’s plan worked like a charm. The tribe’s horses were run to the ground at having to chase after the helicopter circling above. Richard contacted Steve with the news that the natives had forfeited the race and that he was on his way back to the spot.

Following a smooth landing, Richard bounced out of the chopper and helped Steve assist the invalid to the passenger seat. He walked back to the pilot seat while Steve fastened my seatbelt. Barely had he set foot aboard that the loud report of a rifle shot rent the air.

“Steve, look out!” I shouted a warning, pointing in direction of the native riding toward us. I watched with numb horror as Steve gasped and clutched his bleeding side. I grabbed a hold of his arm to haul him the rest of the way in the back seat. “Get up! Get up!” I urged Richard seconds before a second bullet found its mark into Steve’s leg.

Richard pulled the helicopter off the ground just as a third shot rang out, the bullet going astray. I craned my neck in the back where Steve was slumped in his seat fumbling with his seatbelt. His face was contorted in excruciating pain; the tinniest movement sending searing pangs shooting down his side. I unfastened my seatbelt and strode over my seat.

“What are you doing?” Richard asked without lifting his eyes off the console.

“He’s in pain. I’m going to ride in the back with him.”

“I’m alright, Cassie,” Steve rasped out, striving to keep a straight face to belie his agony. “It’s just a glancing wound.”

“Let me see,” I asked sternly, clawing at his bloody hand to peel his fingers off the wound. I contained a gasp of horror at the sight of all the blood seeping out. I pulled at the hat on my head and held it firmly against the deep gash. The touch elicited a painful yelp out of my partner. He bit his upper lip and heaved a shuddering breath.

“What about your leg?” Before I could reach down to inspect the damages, he gripped my arm and shook his head with a cold stare, warning me to keep quiet in Richard’s presence.

“It’s okay,” he breathed out. “No damage done.”

I willed his pained glazed eyes to mine to seek out the truthful answer. “Honest?”

“Just a bit numb, that’s all.”

“Hold on you two. We’ll be at the airbase in less than ten minutes,” Richard informed composedly, momentarily averting his eyes from the control panel to peek in the back at his two passengers.

“Just make sure you get us there in one piece, that’s all we ask,” I spoke with a light tease about my voice as I struggled to buckle both Steve’s seatbelts and mine.

Richard contacted the airfield to notify the ground of our approximate time of arrival.

“Hayden? This is Oscar Goldman. How is she?”

“Aside from a hacking cough I’d say Agent Miller’s fit as a fiddle, sir. However Colonel Austin is wounded. We ran into trouble on liftoff and he was shot.”

“How serious?”

Richard glanced at the rear-view mirror to see that Steve was visibly losing a battle with unconsciousness. “By the looks of it I’d say it’s bad,” he surmised. “ Better have an ambulance standing by.”

“It’s already here, waiting. Get here fast.”

“Will do boss.”

“Wait!” I beckoned Richard to hand me the radio. “Let me talk to him.” I let out a phlegmy cough and hawked the last of the mucus caught in my throat before speaking hoarsely, “Oscar? It’s Cassandra. Steve’s got another wound that falls into Dr. Wells’s field of expertise. You’d better notify him and ask if there’s another qualified physician in the area who can handle the injury.”

“I understand. I’ll contact him at once. How about you? How are you?”

“I’m chilled to the marrow, shaking my bones out of joint and hacking my lungs out but otherwise I’m fine. Nothing a steamy hot bath and some syrupy medicine won’t cure.”

“Glad to hear your humour is still intact. I’ll see you both on arrival.”

Barely ten minutes later, Richard made a smooth landing at the airfield. No sooner had the chopper touched the ground that a careworn Oscar hurried over to us with two medical orderlies wheeling a gurney following close behind. He opened the door to take in the sorrowful sight of an unconscious Steve, his head slumped over my shoulder.

“He’s still with us,” I reassured with a strained smile. “He passed out from the loss of blood.” The dismal tone of my voice told Oscar that this was a serious situation.

After assisting the two orderlies in carrying the insentient man off the helicopter, I clung to Oscar’s arm for support as I felt my weary carcass about to give out on me.

It was early the next morning when I slowly opened my eyes to a bright smile that lit up my hospital room. “Steve?” I mumbled groggily, blinking away the haze to establish clear focus on the pyjama-clad figure leaning over me.

“Hey 35! How are you feeling?” Steve asked softly as he gently rubbed my arm.

“I should be asking you that question,” I yawned.

“I’m fine. A good night’s rest and I’m as good as new.”

“But your side? You leg?”

“A couple of stitches and an unit of blood; nothing to it. There was no major damage done to the leg; the bullet severed a wire, causing the numbness.”

I closed my eyes and heaved a long sigh of relief. “I’m glad.”

“You were worse off than me. You had the onset of pneumonia but luckily they caught it just in time. They administered you some antibiotics to combat the nasty bug.”

“That’s why I’m stoned out of my mind.” Steve joined me in a laugh. “What now?”

“I expect they’ll keep us a while longer, then it’s back home where Oscar is sending both on a new mission.”

“Together?”

Steve nodded. “We will be posing as a honeymoon couple,” he said with an elfish wink.

“What?”

“That was the assignment he originally planned to send me on before I learned of your disappearance. He asked me who I wanted as my wife and I chose you above all other available female agents.”

“I’m flattered. But didn’t you say you loved me for my mind and not my body?”

“That’s right. With you by my side I’ll be concentrating on my job and not your alluring curves,” he teased.

I playfully swatted him in the arm. “Get out of here!”

Steve chuckled before leaning forward to brush a soft kiss against my forehead. “Get well soon.” He lifted his eyes up to see a slightly embarrassed Richard Hayden looming in the doorway. “Someone here to see you.”

I turned to Richard and waved him in. “Come in Richard.”

Steve rose from his chair and gave my hand one last squeeze before leaving the room. Before crossing the door, he turned to me and winked.