Snake in the Grass

Chapter One - The Decision

"I'm very sorry. Goodbye."

Sherry put the 'phone down and sighed. That was the second charter this week she had refused. Business was booming, too booming. Chance and the new pilot, Hilton Smith, were working flat out up to the maximum hours allowed and they still weren't keeping up with demand. The helicopters were well maintained and ran smoothly, but the Ranger was due for a rebuild in one hundred hours of flying time, which would take it out of action for about two months. The only option was to rent while it was being worked on and that was horribly expensive.

She rubbed her temples. When Chance had suggested that she do some administrative work two months ago she had jumped at the idea. She loved the twins dearly, but her conversations day after day consisted of baby talk and her saying no about three million times. She had set up a mini nursery in the back office where the twins, Katie and Andrew, could sleep, play and scream to their hearts content without disturbing anyone but Sherry, which she was used to anyway. The helicopters fascinated them and Andrew particularly watched them take off and land in quiet amazement. It was probably the only time they were quiet, other than when they were asleep. Chance spoiled them rotten when he wasn't flying or carrying out maintenance. Hilton was a little more reserved, but Sherry had found him building brick walls with Katie yesterday. He had been embarrassed, but Katie had sat there smiling. She was going to be a heartbreaker one day Sherry decided. Just not too soon, she hoped.

"That's a big sigh for a lovely lady."

The voice of her husband made her jump.

"CJ don't do that. You could give a girl a heart attack creeping up on her like that."

"The dynamic duo were asleep, so I thought I'd sneak in and we could have a little time to ourselves," he explained.

He took her in his arms and held her tight. "You smell so good."

He breathed in deeply and kissed her. She returned his kiss with passion and pulling him close allowed one hand to stray to his bottom, which she squeezed playfully.

"Ummm," he sounded satisfied. "I shall have to be sneaky more often. Come here Mrs. Yates," he smiled, as he guided her onto the sofa in the waiting area.

He sat down and pulled her onto his lap. "Now where were we?" He murmured.

She put one hand round his neck and the other slipped in between the buttons of his shirt. They kissed again and didn't hear the patter of tiny feet on the wooden floor. Sherry had undone all the buttons on CJ's shirt before the tap of a small hand on her leg made her realise they had company.

"Mummy, bockle," Andrew repeated. He had trouble making the hard 't' sound. Sherry disentangled herself from CJ and picked up Andrew.

"You don't want that nasty old bottle," said CJ and took it away from the small boy.

Andrew's face dropped, but a beaming smile lit his face when CJ gave him a drinking cup with a spout and a handle shaped like a helicopter. Andrew squirmed his way off Sherry's lap and started running around the waiting area 'flying' his helicopter cup.

Sherry laughed. "You spoil them."

CJ nodded. "I couldn't resist it. There's one for Katie too."

"In a different colour, I hope."

CJ laughed. "Yeah, in a different colour."

Sherry stood and straightened her clothing.

"Will you take them home? I still have some paperwork to do."

CJ gathered Andrew in his arms, put him on his shoulders and started walking round the waiting area while Andrew made "vroom, vroom" noises as the helicopter flew higher.

"What time is Chance coming round for dinner?" He asked.

"Eight o'clock. So if you could start the vegetables..."

"For you, anything," and he kissed Sherry on the nose.

Andrew tried to land the cup on his mother's head, but CJ whisked him away just in time and together they went to wake Katie to take her home.

After they had gone Sherry got back down to the serious business of trying once again to juggle times sheets so they could squeeze every ounce of time out of the pilots and their machines.

***

Sherry wondered again how CJ could manage to juggle cooking with keeping the twins amused. When she arrived home they were running trains around his feet as he danced around the kitchen pretending to be the Fat Controller and peeling carrots. She rescued him, fed and bathed the twins and then put them to bed. A quick shower and a change of clothes for herself and CJ was waiting for her on the verandah with a glass of chilled Chablis.

"You're are an angel," she whispered.

"I know and so good looking and talented,." he smiled cheekily.

"Don't forget modest as well then," she laughed.

They stood arms around each other enjoying the quiet of the evening. They heard Chance walk around from his house. The two men grinned as they shook hands and Sherry received a kiss on the cheek.

"Careful with the wife, mate, she's used goods."

Sherry flounced off and CJ caught her a slap on the backside.

"Dinner in five, guys," she shouted back.

CJ had cooked lemon pepper chicken with his speciality sherry trifle for afters. Dinner was companionable and fun. Both Chance and CJ were on good form and laughter echoed through the house. As Sherry stacked the dishes in the dishwasher the two men sat on the verandah, Chance drinking beer and CJ soda. For once the twins had behaved. They had gone to bed on time and had not yet woken. CJ was a silent partner in the Charter business and normally let Chance make all the decisions, but Chance had approached him with this dilemma and they had talked around it for three days.

"There are only two ways to go, mate, you know that."

"I know, CJ, but it's a hell of a lot of money. And I know the Bank will lend it, but it means taking on one, maybe two more pilots."

"Expand or die, Chance"

"Expand and bust more like it," Chance retorted.

"Talking about CJ's trifle again, Chance?" Sherry interrupted.

The tall handsome black man laughed.

"No. I think I... we just made a decision," he smiled.

CJ nodded. "I think this calls for a celebration."

Both Chance and Sherry looked up at CJ. He smiled knowing he had provoked the reaction.

"Sherry, get out the best china, this calls for a cup of tea."

Chance groaned. "I'll stick with the beer."

"Chance, this is a wonderful opportunity and as luck would have it I know just the bloke to talk to. He will get us the best deal going."

"CJ, this is genuine, right?" Chance queried.

"Would I sell you a pup? Remember I've got a lot invested in this as well. It'll be my moniker on the bank loan papers too," CJ protested.

"Your what?"

Chance always got lost when CJ started using English slang. "Is that Latin for something?"

"Yeah, it means we are on our way to an early retirement."

CJ smiled and held out his hand to shake Chance's. Chance shook his head as though he could hardly believe what he was doing.

"Are you sure we won't regret this, CJ?"

"Never in a month of Sundays."

Chapter two - The Telephone Call

"Patrick?" The connection wasn't that good and CJ wasn't sure he had made contact with the right man. "Is that you?"

"This is Patrick McGuire. Can I help you?"

All Patrick heard was a laugh and then a voice he recognised.

"CJ Yates, is that you?" How the devil are you?"

"I'm fine Paddy and how are you and Alison and the kids?"

The next few minutes were spent swapping news and reminiscences. Eventually CJ got down to business.

"Paddy, your import/export business, does it ever deal in big stuff?"

CJ and Patrick had last met in the Islands just over eighteen months previously. Patrick had stopped to help Sherry when she had a puncture not knowing who she was and then had been on the scene again when their car had broken down with CJ and Sherry in it. Later he had contacted CJ and asked him to do a big firework display for a client. The client, a large international corporation out of New York City had been very pleased with his work and CJ had been handsomely paid. After the job when Patrick and CJ were chatting on the 'phone congratulating themselves, Patrick had let slip that he and another ex-SAS colleague, Mike Reilly, had started to trade in small arms through the import/export business. All legitimate and above board; they had even supplied the British Army.

At the time CJ thought it made sense. Mike had been Sergeant-in-Charge of the armoury at Hereford and had made lots of contacts with manufacturers in his time, while Patrick had the wherewithal to move stuff around easily and quickly; a perfect partnership. And they had prospered. CJ knew if anyone could get him a good deal it would be Patrick, besides he owed him. After the job in Honolulu Patrick had said, "anytime I can return the favour CJ, just call me." Well, now CJ was calling.

"What were you thinking CJ, stingers or something bigger?" Patrick asked.

"Er, well actually Paddy, a lot bigger," he paused. "I need a chopper."

There was silence on the other end of the phone and then Patrick started to laugh. The laugh got out of control and CJ tried to interrupt in an attempt to bring the conversation back to an even keel. Patrick gasped for breath and fought to contain himself.

"A chopper, CJ? You want a chopper? Oh my, that takes me back. Do you remember that time in Belfast when you fell out of the chopper, right into that rubbish tip?"

Patrick lost control again and thousands of miles away CJ grimaced at the memory and held the 'phone away from his ear.

"As I recall," he stated with all the dignity he could muster, "it was Mike who pushed me out. I didn't fall."

"Still the look on your face was priceless and you were picking old bits of spaghetti out of your hair for days."

"That was when I had hair," CJ retorted and both men laughed.

"What do you want?" Patrick asked a few minutes later when the conversation returned to the present day.

CJ didn't need to explain about the Charter business, Patrick already knew, but he rattled off a couple of models that Chance had thought would be worth looking at.

"Okay, CJ, leave it with me. I'll ask around. I'll get you something, don't worry."

"Thanks, Paddy, I appreciate it. So when are you coming to the Islands for a holiday? You know the offer still stands."

CJ was genuine in his invite. He, Patrick and Mike had been good mates when they were all in the Regiment and they were times that CJ missed. Not often and not for long admittedly, but occasionally.

"Soon, CJ, I promise, soon." Patrick chuckled as he replied.

The conversation petered out with Patrick once again promising to get back to CJ as soon as he could. As CJ put down the receiver he smiled, Patrick was a good man, he would come through.

Chapter 3 - The Flight

The flight to LAX had been good. The twins had behaved themselves and had actually been quite charming with the lady in the seat on the other side of the aisle. Sherry was worried. It was all going to well. Something had to go wrong. They had a three hour layover in Los Angeles and had decided to let the twins run around as much as possible so they would tire themselves out. That was the first mistake. Andrew started the trouble when he ran into an obvious "suit". The man removed his glasses and in an obnoxious voice asked that 'the child be kept under control'. Sherry felt CJ bristle beside her and she put a restraining hand on his arm. She smiled sweetly through gritted teeth and recovered Andrew from the briefcase he was sitting on. They moved to another part of the departure lounge. Katie, not to be outdone, decided to throw a temper tantrum. She objected to being moved and on being transposed to a different spot and put on the floor, stood and made her way determinedly back to where they had come from.

"No munchkin," soothed CJ. "Over here."

It was at this point that Katie started to screech, objecting to CJ picking her up and walking back to Sherry and Andrew. With her little legs kicking and her fists punching she fought CJ all the way.

"Katie, no don't love," he pleaded.

Meanwhile Andrew had remained on the floor after Sherry had sat him down. By now people were looking at CJ and Katie. A few sympathetic mothers recognized the signs and smiled in memory of a shared embarrassment and exasperation. Others tutted under their breath in unfair condemnation of a father who, as they saw it, couldn't control his own child. Andrew was going red in the face. A telltale sign if only Sherry had been watching, but her attention was also on the noisy Katie. It was the smell she first noticed; that sweet sickly smell. She sighed and turned to Andrew, almost puce, but smiling now that he was sitting in a warm sticky mess.

CJ wrinkled his nose as he stood in front of Sherry. "The rest rooms are this way," he indicated with his head.

Sherry scooped up Andrew and the four of them walked to the baby changing room. Katie was still screeching. Sherry and CJ ignored her. In the changing room, Andrew was soon clean and changed. Katie had decided to empty the baby bag and Sherry couldn't be bothered to stop her. CJ finished doing Andrew's buttons up and turned to Sherry,

"What's the matter, love?" She had been uncommonly quiet for a while now.

"I'm still not convinced, CJ. It's such a long way and I'm dreading this next flight."

She was tired. Andrew, almost in anticipation of the long flight, had not slept well the previous night and it was Sherry who had spent most of the night attempting to soothe the twin and reading him stories. Katie had slept through it all, an angelic look on her face. CJ kissed her gently on the cheek.

"Don't worry it'll be okay. A piece of cake."

Sherry smiled faintly. She didn't believe it for a minute

"But why did we have to come?" She asked for the umpteenth time.

CJ sighed and repeated what he had said before so many times.

"We're too busy for Chance to leave until he has sorted out a replacement pilot. You can't blame him for wanting to take his time. After all it's his, our, livelihood. He needs the right man for the job."

"I know."

"It gives my family a chance to see the twins. Mum is the only one who has been out to visit us and the Yates' clan wants to make a fuss. They are great fussers. Besides its winter back home, snow, rain, cold; you'll love it."

Sherry looked at his serious face and laughed.

"Ok you sold me. Did anyone ever tell you, you are a sweet talker, Christopher James Yates?"

"One of my many talents."

He grinned as he picked up Andrew and kissed the boy on the cheek. "I make beautiful babies too."

The flight was called without any more major catastrophes and they were able to get on board in the first call and get the twins settled before the plane filled up. Eleven hours on a plane with eighteen-month-old twins is no idea of fun for anyone. Katie spilled her orange juice into CJ's lap and was sick whilst Andrew kicked the back of the seat in front until the poor man asked the stewardess if there was a spare seat he could move to. Fortunately for him there was.

Everybody in the seats around Sherry, CJ and the twins must have offered up a prayer of thanks when the plane touched down at Heathrow. CJ was certainly looking forward to handing the twins over to his family and catching up on his sleep and some time alone with his wife.

CJ and the twins walked through Immigration and Customs without any bother. With CJ being British the twins had dual nationality, which came in handy at times like these. Sherry was not so lucky and had to queue for thirty minutes before she got through Immigration control. Having reclaimed the baggage, put up the baby stroller and stopped Katie from climbing on the carousel, three happy faces greeted Sherry as she finally got into the arrivals lounge. CJ thought she looked exhausted and needed sleep more than he did. She didn't have his ability to sleep anywhere anytime at the drop of a hat. He took her hand and squeezed it.

"I need to sleep, CJ," she told him.

"I know, love. Not long now," he replied.

The Yates family was waiting at the gate. One of the bright sparks had made a sign with the surname on, as if CJ wouldn't recognise his own family. Well, it had been a long time. He took a deep breath. Even the air tasted different. He felt revitalised. It was good to be home.

Chapter 4 - The Idea

The family lived in North London. Many of the Irish who had come over in the 1950's when England were welcoming workers of every race creed and colour had settled in North London. Before you knew it the Guinness was as good as that beingserved at the Brewery in Dublin and every wedding ended in a fight. Siobhan Yates was the matriarch of the family; white haired, tall, well-built and with a ruddy complexion. CJ had taken his father's looks. Frederick Yates was shorter than his wife, thin of face and stature and of hair. He looked the archetypal hen-pecked husband, but theirs was a strong vibrant marriage, a partnership that had withstood the test of time and whatever hardship had been placed on it. And there had been plenty of those not the least of which was the death of their oldest boy Danny and CJ's plunge into depression and drinking after his return from Libya with his oldest brother's body.

They had survived that as they had survived everything, with a smile and any excuse for a family gathering. CJ's return from Hawaii with his wife and the twins was more than enough excuse for the clan to get together. Not that they had far to go. With the exception of Danny and CJ and one or two other black sheep, most of the family still lived in and around North London, Willesden to be specific. The area had changed a lot since the 1950's and a lot since the last time CJ had been home. Now he looked in despair at the boarded up shops and houses and the dirty streets. The place was a mess and he feared for his family's safety.

The family home was an oasis in the desert. The small three bedroomed terraced house had been maintained immaculately by Frederick Yates and his wife. When he had not been working on the 'railroad' as he called it, he was always in the garden weeding pruning or mowing the grass. He even had an allotment two miles away, and twice a week he would cycle on his old black bike there and tend the vegetables he grew in the rich dark soil. In the past what he grew had kept the family going through especially hard times. Now it was a hobby, but no less cherished for that. The fabric of the house was similarly well cared for; Mr. Yates senior being a handy man of all sorts, able to turn his hand to most things that were needed to keep the little house spick and span.

Siobhan kept the home. Whilst she was a willing helper in and around the home and frequently seen visitor to the allotment, normally pushing the wheelbarrow while Fred leaned on the spade, rolled himself a cigarette and watched. Her love, though, was the home. All the food was home-cooked and hand me down clothes were repaired with a deft touch and a small neat stitch. CJ had often told Sherry that his earliest memory of his mum was her darning socks of an evening. Her cooking was legendary and she baked the most amazing bread, which filled the house with mouth-watering smells for hours. CJ had inherited his love of cooking from his mum and she had photographs of a fair-haired eight-year-old standing on an old up turned milk crate so he could stir the mixture for Christmas puddings. The smile on the face of the child said it all, and so did the chaos on the table and flour all over his face. It had been a happy childhood for CJ and Danny and CJ was glad he could bring his own children to experience a little of that happiness.

It was Siobhan who made the suggestion. CJ could see Sherry was not keen on the idea, and he knew that she had wanted the children to make their own choices when they were old enough. He was taken with the notion and knew that dissuading his Mum would be an uphill struggle. It had been done to him when he was about the same age and he had survived, so he guessed the twins would too, at least that's what he told Sherry. There would be terrible logistical problems for her family, but he knew that overcoming those was only a matter of organisation. Sherry acquiesced gracefully. CJ beamed and Siobhan had a look that said this was going to be her finest hour. CJ squeezed Sherry's hand and mouthed thanks. He looked at the twins in their highchairs and wondered if getting them christened was something they would appreciate. Probably not, he thought to himself.

Chapter 5 - The Godparents

Matt put the 'phone down, a smile crossing his face. He turned to Margo and Benny Ray who sat on the sofa in his office. Having relayed the gist of CJ's excited 'phone call he watched the reactions of the two members of his team that he was closest to.

"His Highness wants me to be Katie's Godfather, well I'll be..." Benny Ray was pleased as well as surprised.

"I shall need a new hat," beamed Margo.

Both men looked at her and echoed the same thought, "a hat?"

"For the christening."

Margo was already planning what outfit to wear.

"When do we leave Major?" Asked Benny Ray, ever the practical one.

"Today is Tuesday and the christening is a week Sunday. CJ wants us there on the Friday before hand at the latest."

"Just enough time," said Margo, almost to herself.

"What for?" Matt asked.

"To go shopping," she said, surprised that he needed to ask.

"I'll book the flights," replied Matt, shaking his head and smiling as he lifted the 'phone.

CJ's call to Chance was largely academic, as Chance was due to fly to England in the next couple of days anyway. Still CJ wanted him to know what was happening.

"Hey, that's great man. I'd be honoured to be Andrew's Godfather."

The next question CJ asked with some hesitation. "Ummm, Chance, there's no problem about you being a Godfather is there?"

"Problem?" Chance was confused.

"Yeah well with this Muslim thing."

There was a short pause and CJ thought he had offended his partner, then he heard him chuckle. "No, CJ, the 'Muslim thing' is no problem."

CJ was relieved. "That's great. I really want you there."

They went on to discuss Chance's travel plans and CJ confirmed he would be at the airport to collect him. Putting down the 'phone CJ rifled through his address book. Finding the number he wanted he pressed the appropriate buttons on his mobile and waited. As he expected he got a voice telling him to leave a message.

"Nicole, it's CJ. Everything is okay, but I need to speak to you soon. Get me on my mobile or at home and I mean Mum and Dad's."

He ended the call and pondered. Nicole could be anywhere in the world and he had no idea when or if she would get the message. Danny's widow was an operative. Not quite the same as him in his heyday with the team, she was much more into intelligence than strong-arm stuff, but she could look after herself. Both he and Sherry wanted Nicole to be Katie's Godmother.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Sherry asked quietly as she sat next to him.

CJ shook himself. "Nothing important, love. What did your brother say?"

"He can't wait. I had to work hard to persuade him not to fly out tonight."

"The rest of the family coming?" He knew she had been worried about that.

She relaxed into his cuddle. "Yep, all of them."

They stayed together holding each other close, talking quietly. There were very few details left to work out. CJ's Mum had taken care of that. It seemed like all they had to do was turn up. Simple as that. Although of course Sherry and CJ both knew nothing was ever as simple as it looked at first.

Chapter 6 - The Meeting

CJ and Chance had arranged to meet Patrick and Mike in a pub in Central London just off Horseguards. A small place with sawdust on the floor, it almost guaranteed privacy if you sat in one of the deep booths that lined the walls. Patrick was already sitting in one when the pair arrived. CJ headed for the bar as soon as introductions had been effected. Chance and Patrick talked about Hawaii and the charter business until CJ came back and set a pint of luke warm brown liquid in front of Chance and told him cheerfully to "get it down his neck". Chance looked sceptically at the contents of the glass while CJ urged him on.

"It'll put hairs on your chest that will; a pint of best bitter."

"That's what I'm afraid of," muttered Chance.

CJ was smiling at him as he drank his coke. Chance sipped the drink, fully expecting to be spitting it out on the floor at the first taste. The drink was aptly named and strange to Chance's palate, but it was not as bad as he thought it would be. In fact, he thought, after a few more swallows, it wasn't all that bad. CJ chuckled as he watched the look on Chance's face change.

"Where's Mike?" CJ asked Patrick.

"He'll be here in a minute. Don't worry, CJ."

Within five minutes Mike Reilly walked in. He was a bear of a man with a shock of dark red hair. He dwarfed CJ and even made Chance look short. When he shook hands you wanted to make sure all your fingers were still there after. He was a typical Irishman, a sparkle in his eye and a ready joke. After CJ had bought him a pint of Guinness and he had imparted his latest jokes, at which he laughed loudest, talk turned to business.

The first option Mike offered the two men Chance rejected immediately. He had flown the military version of what was on offer before and had been singularly unimpressed. Mike listened to the objections and nodded.

"You know what you're talking about then," he commented, as if he had doubted it previously. "In that case you'll be wanting this little baby."

He slipped a series of photographs and technical specifications across the table between the glasses. Chance sighed. "She's a beauty, but way out of our league."

"Well now, there I might have a deal for you darlin'."

Chance looked up at Mike, surprised at the way he had been addressed and interested in what the man had to offer.

"The toe rag who owned her was a self-made millionaire. He got his money quick and he spent it just as quick; fast cars, fast women and a fast death. The poor Ferrari got squashed with our boy inside. His wee ma'am wants the damn thing sold. It's costing her a fortune in storage charges and it seemed her boy liked slow horses too. There are gambling debts and the people he owed money to are none to patient, if you get my drift."

"How much does she want?" Chance asked.

He was not happy at the thought of taking advantage of a grieving mother, but if the price was fair he was definitely interested. Mike mentioned a figure. Chance whistled. CJ looked from Chance to Mike and back.

"Is that good?" He wanted to know.

"Very good." Chance's eyes were bright.

"Want to see it?" Mike asked.

"Of course," Chance replied.

Within a few minutes a time and place were set.

"This calls for a drink," Mike announced, smiling. "Same again Chance? Your usual, CJ?"

"No," CJ smiled, raising his glass and shaking it so the ice cubes clinked against the side. "Coke."

Mike roared out loud. " Coke! You on the wagon man?"

CJ nodded expecting a ribbing. The laughter continued and as he leant on the bar having ordered the drinks, Mike turned to Chance, "Did I ever tell about this guy when we were in the Beacons?"

As Chance had only just met Mike this was highly unlikely and from the resigned look on CJ's face this could be a moment to treasure, thought Chance. Ammunition against CJ was rare and this was an opportunity not to be missed. By the end of the story Chance was red in the face gasping for air with tears running down his face. Even CJ was chuckling at the memory. Patrick, who had been present in the Brecon Beacons when the story Mike had just related took place, was laughing too.

"I tell you, Chance, there are a lot of beautiful parts of this country that you should visit while you're here, but the Beacons isn't one of them. It's the arsehole of the planet; forgotten, forsaken and the worst place in the world on a cold dark and wet night. Not fit for man nor beast." Mike was adamant.

"I'll remember," Chance managed to splutter out.

By the time the meeting broke up, Chance was just a little bit tiddley. He stood, slightly unsteady on his feet. The blast of cold air that hit as he and CJ stepped outside did nothing to sober him up and CJ kept one hand on Chance's shoulder whilst he hailed a taxi. CJ thought, one of us is going to have bad head in the morning and it won't be me and started laughing. Chance joined in not really knowing what he was laughing at.

Chapter 7 - The Inspection

Luton Airport sent millions of British tourists on package holidays to the continent every year, but what most of those tourists didn't see was a thriving private airport for numerous light aircraft and the occasional helicopter. Hangar 3 was closed when the four men arrived, but Patrick had the keys and the double doors were soon thrown wide to reveal the most disgustingly coloured helicopter you could possibly imagine. Underneath the orange and pink paint was a Eurocopter Dauphin AS365NZ. Chance stood in awe; CJ made one comment. "I like the colour."

CJ's words penetrated Chance's stunned brain and he turned to look in horror at the shorter man beside him. Moving away he took a walk around the hangar. His eyes never left the helicopter. He looked like a man in love; his eyes drank in every detail. Chance knew the technical specifications by heart and relayed them to himself in a quiet voice as he walked around for a second time. Mike and Patrick stood to one side while Chance did his inspection. Both knew they were close to a sale and that nothing they could say would sway the tall black man either way. The goods would have to speak for themselves. Both were confident that the sale was in the bag. Patrick shuffled his feet slightly and constantly looked over his shoulder.

"Will you stop fidgeting, man," Mike complained.

Patrick grunted a sorry and tried to concentrate on the matter in hand. Chance was opening the engine housing. CJ had his head stuck in front of Chance.

"Looks good, Chance."

Chance turned to look at the smaller man and gently pushed him out of the way.

"CJ, if you can't make a sensible contribution then just stay out of the way."

CJ shrugged his shoulders and climbed inside the cockpit, putting on the headphones and grabbing the stick. Chance rolled his eyes and concentrated on the machinery in front of him, a smile playing across his lips. It took over an hour before Chance walked away wiping his hands on a rag he had found on the floor of the hangar and approached the two salesmen his arm outstretched.

"Gentlemen, you have yourself a deal."

All four men smiled.

"This calls for a drink," said Mike.

"Oh no," groaned Chance.

Chapter 8 - The Tape.

Mike and Patrick had driven away in Mike's green Range Rover. CJ got in behind the wheel of the hire car and clapped his hands together with glee.

"We're on the way, mate. I can feel it in my bones. This is good, I can tell."

"We'll have to have her repainted of course," Chance said pointedly.

He didn't want to burst CJ's bubble and to be truthful he agreed with the man, but he was trying to maintain a more considered approach. The purchase of the helicopter was going to cost a lot of money and even though the business would expand it would be a long time until they had paid it off. But, Chance thought, they'd got a good price even when shipping charges were taken into account, in fact, a dammed fine price. Smiling he looked at CJ and was surprised to see his sombre face looking back.

"I liked the colour," he said quietly.

Chance laughed and turned on the radio as CJ started the car's engine.

"No, CJ," Chance laughed. "It gets repainted."

Their journey back to London was well underway when Chance finally complained about the music on the radio.

"CJ, this is awful. How can you listen to this?"

"Sorry, mate."

CJ flicked through all the channels without finding anything that Chance liked. CJ turned off the radio.

"That's it then, you're out of luck."

"What about this?" Chance asked, holding up a tape.

He had found it in the door pocket. It was not in a case and had no label or writing on it.

"Shove it in and see," grinned CJ.

Chance shook his head and slipped the tape in. There was nothing on it.

"Try fast forward," suggested CJ.

When the tape played again there was a man's voice. Chance was about to eject the tape when CJ stopped him.

"That's Patrick's voice. Rewind to the beginning."

A few seconds later Patrick's voice came out of the speakers. It was strained and worried and as they listened both men grew more serious. CJ handed Chance his cell phone.

"Patrick's name is in the phone book, phone him."

Chance nodded not noticing CJ's ordering tone. As Chance shut the phone, he reported to CJ.

"Not available."

"What do we do now?" Asked CJ.

"Call Mike?" Suggested Chance.

CJ nodded.

"His number is in there too."

It took longer for Chance to reply.

"No answer."

Thirty minutes later the two men and Sherry sat around the table in Siobhan Yates' kitchen. The tape was on its third listen through. Patrick's message was short.

"CJ, I know I shouldn't be doing this, but I don't know who else to talk to. Word on the grapevine is that you're involved with some serious operators and I wouldn't have dumped this on you now, but I don't know who else I can trust. You've been out of the Regiment long enough that I don't believe you can be caught up in this. I'm scared, CJ. More scared than I have ever been."

There was a break in the tape. The recording kept going and they could hear faint sounds of movement and scraping. When Patrick spoke again his voice was quieter, but closer as though the microphone was in front of his mouth.

"Mike has been the one of us who acquires. I have always been the salesman. You know I've got the gift of the gab."

His joke fell flat.

"I don't know where he gets all the hardware from. At first I kept a close eye on things, but it was all above board and as we got busier I had less time. I had to trust him, CJ. I had to."

His voice contained a pleading tone.

"Two days ago, the night of our meeting, I was visited by some very intense people, CJ. They wanted money and lots of it. Seems that Mike hasn't been paying our supplier and they weren't too happy. I managed to put them off, but they're coming back, CJ, and they mean business. I haven't been able to get hold of Mike. I am hoping he'll be there at Luton for our meeting. If he is, I mean to confront him after. This is going to go one of two ways, CJ. Either Mike has the money and this is all a terrible mistake and we'll be laughing about it some day or he hasn't got the money and then all hell breaks loose. I've sent Alison and the baby away and if need be I'm going too, CJ. Don't think badly of me. This isn't like the old days, CJ, when we could face anything or anybody. We had the Regiment to fall back on. Now it's me and Alison and the kid. You know which way I think this is going to go by the very fact that I've sent you the tape. I knew if I just disappeared you wouldn't leave well alone, so this is by way of an explanation and a warning. Don't get involved, CJ. Stay well away. No good will come of it if you do. CJ, tell your friend I'm sorry about the helicopter and, mate... watch your back."

The recording ended. Sherry stopped the small machine before the tape ran out.

"What are you going to do?" She asked.

CJ looked at his wife. He'd found her in the garden watching the twins play. It had been windy and though the children had been wrapped up in coats and hats, she had stood on the doorstep in only her rain jacket. The wind had blown her hair and when she had hurriedly pushed the loose hair behind her ears, she had missed a lock, which now dangled, across her forehead. Chance had asked CJ the question after they had listened to the tape in the car. The answer he was about to give Sherry was just the same as the one he had given Chance. He knew Sherry wouldn't be happy about the answer.

"When we were at Sterling Lines, Patrick had a little bolt hole. His gran had died and left him enough money to buy a tiny two up two down terraced house in a really run down part of Hereford. He never did anything with it. When we had leave and he wanted to stay close by the Camp he stayed there. He hadn't met Alison then. Christ, I even stayed there with him a couple of times. I'm sure I can find it again," he explained.

"You think that's where he's gone?" Sherry queried.

"It's a good bet," he said simply, in reply. "I think Chance and I should go and check it out tomorrow."

"Why do you have to do anything, CJ?" She was upset. "Let the police handle it. You don't even know if he's missing yet."

She was grasping at straws.

"I'm going to the police, but I know what they'll say. Paddy is an adult, he's been missing for less than 24 hours and there is nothing they can do."

He tried to make Sherry understand. "He's a friend and he's in trouble. His little lad isn't much older than the twins, and I owe him, love. He saved my life more than once."

Sherry did not want to understand. "And I'm sure you saved his life too. I thought we were away from all that, CJ?"

She forced herself not to lose control and remain practical.

"Anyway who's going to pick Matt and the others up from Heathrow tomorrow if you go rushing off?"

CJ had hoped Chance would help him out in this argument, but he kept pointedly quiet.

"I was going to ring Lizzie," he said.

Sherry and Lizzie had never met, but Sherry knew all about what had happened in Mexico, when the team had believed that Benny Ray was dead and buried. That had happened before he and Sherry were married, but he still chatted occasionally with Lizzie over the Internet and they exchanged Christmas cards.

"In fact," CJ said, surprising himself that he hadn't remembered sooner. "That is a very good idea. Lizzie rejoined the police force about six months ago and she serves somewhere here in London. She might be able to help us with Patrick. At least we know we can trust her."

Chance nodded, his only contribution so far. Sherry stood up and made her position clear, she wanted none of this.

"I'm going to check on the twins."

CJ sighed; he was going to have to work hard to make it up to Sherry this time. He knew she was more than happy for him to leave his old life with the team behind. She was scared more than anything else and he understood that, but fear wasn't something he worried about. Not here at home. He could handle it; it was not as though it were Libya after all. He followed his wife from the room. He didn't see Chance get out his own cell phone and dial a familiar number in Hermosa Beach, California.

Chapter 9 - The Death

Chance and CJ's departure for the North the next day was delayed. CJ had trouble getting hold of Lizzie who had been on duty all night and the twins had been absolute terrors, as if they sensed the friction between their parents. CJ had tried to reassure Sherry repeatedly, but she had been too scared to give in. Her anger had shown itself most pointedly in the back she'd turned to CJ when they'd finally gone to bed the night before. The morning had brought no let up in her mood.

It was almost midday when Lizzie returned the message left by CJ on her voice mail and by then there was only three hours until Matt's plane landed. CJ had asked Sherry to collect the team from the airport if he couldn't get hold of Lizzie, but she had refused stating that she wasn't comfortable driving in the UK yet. CJ bit his tongue knowing that a sharp retort would only prolong the "misunderstanding" between them.

Lizzie had been surprised to get CJ's message. Benny Ray had already told her that he was coming and she had arranged some time off at short notice. She knew she must have sounded too excited on the phone as she readily agreed to pick up the three from Heathrow. Details of their flight were quickly confirmed, but she noticed some initial hesitancy in CJ's voice when he broached a different subject. That caution was short lived and he soon blurted out his request.

"Lizzie, I have a problem I need your help with."

"If it's fixing a parking ticket, forget it, CJ and anyway you've only been here a few days."

She knew she wasn't taking him seriously, but she was still excited at the thought of meeting with Benny Ray again and couldn't get that thought out of her mind. CJ's explanation of Patrick's disappearance sobered her thoughts and once in professional mode she took all the details she needed.

"You know I can't do anything officially yet, CJ," she apologized. "You can file a missing persons report, but this will have such a low priority it won't get to a detective's desk for twenty four hours at least, more like forty eight. I can make some enquiries unofficially. I have a friend at NSIS who owes me a favour. I might be able to get you something. Let me see what I can do."

She took CJ's mobile number from him and having got his profuse thanks twice, she then received an invitation to the Christening. She laughed and promised to come. She had hoped she would have been going anyway with a certain blue-eyed American.

Shortly after Lizzie had hung up the phone, CJ and Chance were ready to leave. They were walking down the path to the garden gate when CJ's phone rang. He looked at Sherry as he pulled the phone from his pocket. She stood leaning against the open door, her arms folded across her chest. CJ sighed; she was still giving him a hard time about going. Answering the phone he shrugged his shoulders, he couldn't tell who had made the call. The face of his phone had showed, "Withheld".

He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard the voice, "Patrick?"

Both Chance and Sherry started at the name.

"Where are you, mate? Are you alright? What the hell is going on?"

The questions fired out of CJ. He frowned at the response and then went pale. A few seconds later he shut the phone. Looking at Sherry he suggested they go back inside the house. Crowded into the narrow hallway, CJ tried to keep his voice down so his mother, who was already unhappy with him for falling out with Sherry, wouldn't over hear what was said.

"That was Patrick," he said unnecessarily. "Mike is dead."

"What!" hissed Chance.

"CJ!" Sherry said, in a warning tone.

"I don't know how Patrick knows, but his body just washed up downstream from Greenwich. The Police are treating it as suicide. Blaming business worries. Patrick says he was murdered."

"That's it, you are not going off after Patrick. You can't do this CJ, you can't."

Sherry stormed off, as much as she could in the small confines of the hallway. She was near to tears this time and was not going to give in.

Chance was the voice of reason and suggested that they talk to Lizzie again before doing anything. CJ started to simmer, he was worried more than ever about Patrick and he felt he ought to do something. He raised his voice to answer both Chance and Sherry. Anticipating his objections, Sherry was already going over her arguments again, but her voice rose as well and between these protestations the knock at the door was almost missed. CJ angrily pulled open the door, which hadn't been fully closed when they re-entered the house.

"Yes?" he demanded.

The two uniformed policemen who stood before the door asked a simple question.

"Christopher James Yates?"

Chance smiled at CJ, "Guess we don't get any choice."

CJ scowled. "Yes." he said in a sulk.

Chapter 10 - The Airport

Lizzie didn't have time to be nervous. The phone call from CJ had taken her by surprise. She had known Benny Ray was coming to England, he had called her a few days ago and they had agreed to meet the day before the Christening. That was three days ago and now suddenly he was going to be there in front of her and it was less than three hours away.

They normally chatted on the phone once every two weeks or so and more often in between times over the Internet, if he wasn't busy. He was 'busy' a lot, but she never asked for and he rarely offered a reason for that. Their conversations were comfortable, but rarely intimate. She told him of her progress. She had gone back to the police force after swearing she would never do that. Her experience in Mexico had, as the months had gone by, rekindled in her a sense of justice and she had found herself at the heart of a newly formed Rape Unit, which dealt solely with such crimes with compassion and understanding. It was as if she had been made for the job and the conviction rate had crept up as more women were prepared to come forward, knowing they would be helped and believed.

She had been on surveillance in a West End Club most of the night, on the hunt for a date rapist who had a penchant for a better class of victim. Eventually she had got to bed at about four am, having had no luck. Getting up at ten am to visit the toilet, she'd noticed the message light blinking on the answering machine. She listened to CJ's message, showered, dressed and was eating toast when she called him back about an hour later. Now she was on the way to Heathrow having only taken the time to call her friend as she had promised CJ she would.

The traffic on the M25 was a nightmare and from thinking she had plenty of time to reach her destination, she found herself rushing from the short stay car park to the arrivals section of Terminal four. She felt flustered and hot, not the impression she wanted to give. She spotted him coming through the exit and waved hurriedly, smiling wildly. For a moment she stopped herself and then thought 'What the hell?' she was happy to see him. As she reached him they embraced and she kissed him before she could stop herself. He didn't draw back. He had his arm round her waist as Matt and Margo exited. There were more hugs and kisses as friendships were reintroduced. With the luggage stowed away, they were soon on their way back along the M25.

This time the journey was easier probably because she was not going back to London. She had decided, as she was talking to CJ, that she would do this. There was no way she could get all three of them in her small flat anyway and she wouldn't want to. Having only been in the place six weeks and having done nothing to it by way of decorating, it was still in quite a state. Her parents were away on one of their jaunts and she always kept a spare key. The family home was euphemistically called 'Acorn Cottage', but it was in fact a large four bed-roomed black and white building in a little village called Wellington, just outside of Hereford. They would all be much more comfortable there. She nervously explained all this to her passengers as one motorway slid by and led into another and their journey progressed further north.

CJ had told her of his plans to try and trace his friend in Hereford and she had given him her parents' address. He and Chance could meet them all there if he wanted later that day and the trip back to London for the Christening would not be that long. Somehow Lizzie was comforted that Benny Ray, Matt and Margo would be close by if things turned sour for CJ's friend and she felt that her being close by wouldn't be a bad thing either.

Lizzie had contemplated not mentioning the phone call from CJ to Benny Ray and the others, but somehow she knew that there were few secrets between these friends and a niggle at the back of her brain warned her that honesty was definitely the best policy.

Benny Ray sat next to her in her Freelander and so she missed the look that passed between Matt and Margo in the back. Chance's phone call had missed them at the Silver Star, but Matt had got the news when he'd picked up his messages just before they boarded the plane. Lizzie had added nothing to the original call and it did not seem to occur to Lizzie, in all her excitement, that they had not been surprised to see her waiting at Heathrow rather than CJ and Chance. At the time Lizzie had other things on her mind.

Chapter 11 - The Reunion

Dinner had gone well. Her parents' freezer was always well stocked and the little local shop had supplied the few other things she needed. A good meal, good wine and pleasant conversation followed, before jet lag finally took its toll. Washing the dishes alone, Lizzie let her thoughts wander. She had been thinking about this meeting with Benny Ray for weeks, no, if she was honest with herself, months. She had dreamed about it at night and during the day. Now it was here she was terrified. She still couldn't believe he was interested in her. She found him incredibly attractive and sexy and she was frumpy and plain and fat. He must come across longhaired blonde girls everyday with figures like goddesses and legs that went all the way up to their armpits and she was...

"Oh God."

She hadn't meant to speak out loud and in the quiet of the kitchen it felt like she had shouted. She didn't see the figure in the gloom of the next room. She wanted him more than anything. She needed him, but wasn't sure if she could go through with it. Maybe it was irrelevant now. Her three houseguests had already retired and here she was up to her elbows in dirty dishes and soapy water. She sighed and rested her hands on the bottom of the bowl. Missed opportunities, she thought, her life was full of them.

"Shit!"

She hadn't heard him walk up behind her and his hands on her waist made her start with a shock.

"God, don't do that!" She exclaimed.

"What? Don't do this?" He replied and kissed the back of her neck. "Or this?" and his hands went round to her stomach.

She turned to face him. "No, you can do that," she smiled.

He stepped back and crossed his arms, teasing her. "No, you told me not to."

Her heart was hammering. "Benny Ray Riddle, you deserve this."

"What?" He was puzzled.

Her hands, covered in suds, came up and were all over his face before he could react. As his eyes lit up and he wiped the bubbles from his face, she knew her fears were unfounded. The look on his face promised everything she wanted and retribution for a wet soapy face. She danced away him as he approached her.

"You'll pay for that," he promised.

"You have to catch me first." she taunted and moved away out of the kitchen and into the living room.

He moved quickly, more quickly than she had expected. She was laughing as he pinned her to the sofa. He kissed her and their tongues danced. It was more like a waltz, gentle and in time. He broke the contact and sat back on the couch pulling her towards him.

"Are you sure about this?" He was serious.

As she looked into those cool blue eyes all doubts fled. She sat on his lap facing him, her feet tucked under her.

"Yes. I'm sure."

She looked him full in the face. To show him she meant it she undid the buttons of his shirt and pushed it away from his chest. A small smile played across his face as he settled back in the sofa happy to let her set the pace and take the initiative. Her hands drifted lightly across his chest following the line of his scars. As her fingers reached his stomach she felt his skin react to her touch and she leant forward to kiss gently where her fingers had been. He was tanned and incredibly well muscled. That need she had felt earlier became more physical, an ache started in her groin and she pushed down on him to feel if he shared her longing. Her hands went to his belt and as she undid that his hands stopped her. She looked at him surprised. He undid the top button of her blouse. She felt as though she wanted to tear all her clothes off and just jump him then and there. Instead she kissed him hard, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth, her teeth nipping at his tongue. He fought back and when she drew herself away, biting his lip in the process, she was panting slightly. He could see her pupils were dilated and could taste her excitement. He felt it too. Finishing the buttons on her blouse, he took it off completely.

"That's not fair," he commented on seeing her t-shirt underneath.

She chuckled and stood up, her hand extended towards him. He took it and she led him upstairs and along the corridor to the door of her room. As they stood outside she took a big breath, dropped his hand and faced him. The door opened at her light touch and standing in the doorway she spoke words she had once read in a book, words that had stayed in her memory for an unknown reason, perhaps for this very moment.

"Khush geldi: welcome: thou art come happily."

They stepped into her room and she leaned heavily against the closed door. He pushed the t-shirt up and his thumb traced the outline of her nipple through the lace of her bra. The material pulled down with little effort on his part and his mouth went to her breast. A sound escaped her and her hands were in his hair, pulling his head away. She needed him now, but couldn't articulate the words.

"Benny Ray," was all she could manage.

He answered in similar vein. "Yes Ma'am."

She wasn't sure if she pulled him to the bed or if he pushed her but she lay on the bed her t-shirt off and his hands deftly undoing her bra. He had kicked off his own shoes somewhere along the way and she was trying desperately to do the same. As he undid her laces she finished taking off his belt and undoing his zip. He was naked underneath and she stopped to admire his erection. Her trousers were on the floor and she lay on her back with only her white lace panties on. Gently he removed them as she helped him.

Using her feet she eased herself further onto the bed and then pulled him towards her with a guiding hand. He knelt between her legs and she felt how wet she was as his fingers explored her. Her hand took his cock and her palm rubbed the tip. She heard him moan and saw his eyes roll up just before they closed in delight. She caressed him again and his tongue darted out between parted lips. He leaned forward and she guided him inside her. It was a moment of exquisite pleasure for her and she held onto him as if she never wanted it to end. He filled her being and as her muscles tightened she felt him shudder in anticipation. As he began to slowly move backwards and forwards she let herself go, knowing that whatever else this would be, it would be short lived. Her breath was already coming in gasps and she felt herself sliding towards the build up that led to orgasm. His thrusts became more urgent and her hands reached up above her head as if searching for something to grasp hold of to stop her rushing head long into joyous oblivion. The hands found no purchase and she allowed a sound to escape. A cross between a sigh and "Oh", it signified her surrender to the urging of his body. In her joy she became aware that he too had climaxed, but her body shuddered through its own orgasm until she thought no more.

She heard his voice call her name, but chose to ignore it still blissfully awash in the memory of his love. He called again with more concern in his voice. A beautiful smile crossed her face and she forced her eyes open. He lay on one side, his head cocked, a look of relief and amusement on his face. She stared at him taking in the sight before her. Whatever happened between them she knew that this moment would stay with her forever. She wanted to tell him she loved him and in that instance she did, but she knew that it wasn't true. There and then she would have given him her heart forever and maybe he would have reciprocated, but this was an end for her as well as a beginning. He had saved her that day in Mexico when he had held onto her sanity and now he had let go and she loved him for that and would always and maybe that was what they would always share, nothing more, but that was enough for her.

He returned her stare and slowly smiled. "What?" He asked.

"You're beautiful."

He chuckled. His body glistened. In their haste the curtains had remained open and the lights had been left off. The moonlight reflected off his naked body and she had never seen any man so erotic. Her fingers reached out to encompass it all. Twice more that night the sound of ultimate satisfaction reverberated in the room; once hers and then his, each taking the effort to arouse the other to climax. Eventually she felt him slumber. Lying with her back against his stomach, she felt his breath against her cheek and the rhythm of his heart against her spine. Luxurious in his embrace she allowed a tear to escape between half closed lids. He had made her whole again. She slept.

By the time they got downstairs the next morning Matt and Margo had been up, breakfasted and left a note to say they were going to explore Hereford. The exhausted pair had made love again in the shower before they too had finally left the bedroom and now she was cooking breakfast. She was famished. He stood in the kitchen and she watched him stretch. He reminded her of a tom cat who, after lying in the sunshine, was now prepared to get up and resume his patrols, but needed to expand every single muscle before he could start off. She shook her head and asked him to get another loaf of bread from the freezer as she suspected that breakfast would turn out to be brunch and a hearty meal would be had by both. She directed him to the garage where the freezer stood and ran to his side as she heard him gasp in surprise.

Benny Ray couldn't believe his eyes. He sensed Lizzie by his side, recognised her smell.

"Is that what I think it is?" He was almost incredulous.

Lizzie smiled, boys and their toys. It had taken her father four years to restore 'the beast', as her mother called it. Over the years Lizzie had helped her father. She did not share his love for the machine, but she understood it and understood that he appreciated the time the two of them shared on his passion.

"Yes, it's a Norton Commando 850, 1973 Mk2."

Benny Ray walked around the machine, admiring the gleaming chrome and black trim.

"Corbin seat?" he asked.

Here we go again thought Lizzie and she reeled off the alterations her father had made.

"Boyer ignition, single Mikuni carb and Borrani rims, Mk2 Amal 32mm carbs, 20 tooth gearbox sprocket, sintered bronze clutch plates.... I could go on."

"110?" he queried the speed.

"122 technical max., but dad gets it to 90 for prolonged journeys."

"She's a real beauty."

He turned to Lizzie, there was a light in his eye and one eyebrow was arched, "Wanna go for a ride?"

She almost called his bluff. "Right now, I'd rather eat."

He took one last lingering look at the bike and turned back to Lizzie. "You have a point."

"And don't forget the bread," she added, as she went back into the kitchen.

"Yes Ma'am," he whispered, one eye still on the two-wheeled beauty waiting patiently to be let loose.

Chapter 12 - The Calm.

Siobhan Yates had watched her son, his wife and their friend drive off from her house. She hugged her granddaughter and smiled as the child grabbed at her hair. Inside she was scared. She knew her son and had received enough visits from the police returning him home after he had got drunk, not to be concerned when they turned up on her doorstep. In the end they stopped bringing him home. Their patience had worn thin and they had charged him after one particular heavy bout. After that he was allowed to sleep it off at the Station. Somewhere along the line he had left the Regiment, quietly and without embarrassment for either side. He had been on his own then, well not quite, he still had his mum and dad, but he no longer had the Regiment or his brother. CJ had been cast adrift and it had taken a long time for him to find his way back to familiar shores. When he made it back his mum had been waiting on the doorstep just as she was now. Waiting and smiling. This time though, inside, she was scared. Something was wrong, something her son wasn't sharing. She hugged Katie tighter, turned her face from the car and went inside shutting the door behind her.

Six hours later she heard the front door open and close. She knew it was him even if he didn't speak. The three walked into her living room. She and Fred had put the twins to bed and were sitting quietly together as they often did at the end of the day. He was reading the newspaper, smoke slowly curling up from his cigarette. She hated him smoking, but had lost that argument years ago. Katie's coat had lost a button and as Sherry had been too distracted to sew it back on, Siobhan was doing it. The three sat down heavily.

"You'll be wanting tea then," Fred stated.

Sherry nodded and got up to help.

"Stay where you are, girl," said Fred, and put a restraining arm on her shoulder.

After he had left the room, Siobhan put down Katie's coat, smoothing it across her lap.

"Christopher, I need to know what's going on, even if its just for the sake of the little ones."

CJ looked at his mother, sighed and started the long explanation he had known would have to be made. He stopped when he got to the part six hours ago when the police had invited him to help them with their enquiries. Fred had slipped into the room hardly noticed and put a mug of tea in front of everyone. Sherry smiled her thanks.

"Go on, son," Fred urged, as CJ paused.

"Mike's dead, just as Patrick said. The police just wanted to know if his behaviour had been unusual in the last few days. Anything to indicate he was contemplating suicide. Our appointment was in his diary and as we were some of the last people to see him alive, these were routine enquiries."

Chance shook his head. "That Detective suspected something, CJ. Why else would he have asked all those questions about Patrick?"

CJ continued. "Well, whatever he suspected we aren't on the list of most wanted and we're free to go. We haven't even been asked not to leave town."

No one laughed at the attempt at a joke. Sherry stood up and mumbled that she was going to check on the twins. As CJ got up to follow her, Siobhan told her eldest son to stay put. She brooked no dissent. With the women out of the room, Fred asked the question Siobhan had been afraid to ask. "What are you going to do now, son?"

Chance and CJ looked at each other.

"We have a plan," CJ answered.

The twins slept contentedly in their travel cots. Andrew, as always like his father, was flat on his stomach arms and legs splayed out. Katie was curled on her side sucking her thumb. It was cold out and Katie had kicked off her blankets. Sherry was tucking her back in when Siobhan slipped up behind her.

"They're grand," she said.

Sherry wasn't sure if she meant the twins or CJ and Chance. It had been a long and boring afternoon for her. As she hadn't been at the meeting and had not met Mike, the police weren't interested in her. She had spent the afternoon on a cold uncomfortable bench. For the first hour CJ and Chance had kept her company. First Chance, then CJ had been called off for an interview and then both had been seen together. While they were alone, CJ had gone a long way to making the peace. He had calmed down enough to see her side of the argument and he'd explained to her why he felt such an affinity with Patrick. He'd saved CJ's life, getting him out of a very nasty situation on the Falls Road when their unit had been ambushed. Sherry and CJ had called a truce, but she knew what would come next. CJ hadn't given up.

As Sherry turned to leave the room, Siobhan stood in her way. "Sherry love, you have to understand when Christopher lost Danny he was eaten up by the guilt; not just the guilt of being the one to survive, but guilt because he talked and Danny didn't; guilt that if he'd handled it differently then maybe he and Danny would've got out alive. It ate him up and only drink could blot it out in the end. He's come to terms with it now and, bless you, he's been so happy since he met you. But he and Patrick were good friends. Patrick is in danger and needs help. That's how Christopher sees it anyway. It's like an echo of the past. He has a chance to do things differently this time. If he can save Patrick maybe he saves a little of Danny."

Sherry knew all of this, CJ had explained it all earlier and she nodded. She could see where CJ got his caring side and she smiled at Siobhan.

"I know." Stepping past Siobhan she added. "But he's not going off without me. I'm not going to lose him."

Siobhan didn't argue. "I'll get dinner then," was her only reply.

Chapter 13 - The Storm

Over dinner the three of them had come to an uneasy agreement. Sherry, CJ, Chance and the twins would all travel to Hereford the next day. They would meet up with Matt, Benny Ray and Margo. The concession that Sherry had forced from CJ was that he would do nothing until he had talked it out with Matt and the others. Sherry knew that CJ would still try and find Patrick, but she felt he would be safer with the team around him. They had brought him back alive every other time they had gone off on missions together and, as far as she was concerned, this was just another mission.

That night Sherry didn't turn her back on CJ but she was pleased he made no advances. She was still too nervous, worried and angry to want to make love to him. As she lay beside him, filtering out the sounds of traffic so she could listen to his breathing calm to sleep, she wanted nothing more than to take him in her arms, hold him tight and keep him from harm. When sleep came to her he was there in her arms, but his eyes were open and pleading with her. She tightened her hold on him and in horror she saw his body change. The skin dried and wrinkled in front of her, it fell from his skeleton like dust. The bones melted, but his eyes were still there pleading with her. She stood, her arms clasped in front of her, but he wasn't there, he had gone, dissolved in front of her. Sherry was bereft. A sob welled up inside her and she opened her eyes. CJ was lying on his front, one arm thrown across her stomach. Placing her hands on his, she took his hand and kissed it.

"I know, CJ, I know," she whispered. "It's just that it hurts so much. I don't know if I could go on if I lost you."

CJ slept on, dreaming of Danny and the last words he had spoken to him before he was shot.

Notwithstanding the trouble of the previous day they managed to get themselves all packed up and ready to go by 9.15am. CJ hugged his mum and promised to let her know how things went. Fred shook hands with his son and Chance, but saved a kiss for Sherry. Chance agreed to drive while CJ navigated and Sherry was left to sit in the back seat sandwiched between the twins in their car seats. She wanted to complain, but the dream was still fresh in her thoughts and she bit her tongue. By ten am they were well on their way and CJ estimated that they should reach Hereford by lunchtime provided there were no hold ups on the motorway.

They tried Lizzie's mobile, but got no reply. CJ made contact with Matt and Margo who were out sightseeing in Hereford. Matt sidestepped CJ's question about where Benny Ray was and for a second CJ thought he could hear Margo chuckle in the background. CJ didn't want to waste any time so made sure Matt and Margo knew where the Green Dragon Pub was and made a date for lunch.

The rest of the journey passed quickly and peacefully. The twins were good, falling asleep after a short while and then playing with their toys until they stopped in the car park of the old coaching inn in the heart of the market town that was Hereford. Matt and Margo were waiting and after two highchairs were found for the twins, they were all seated round reading menus and making choices. Whilst CJ explained the problems, Sherry excused herself from the table and made her way to the Ladies. She had not slept much last night and travelling always made her tired. Splashing cold water on her face, she looked into the mirror over the basin and stared at her reflection. There were shadows under her eyes and she could see the vein pulsing in her forehead that presaged a headache.

"Don't look at me like that," she said to her reflection. "You wanted to come, so now you have to put up with this."

"I couldn't stay behind, not this time," she answered herself.

"So put up with it and stop complaining."

She splashed more cold water on her face and pulling off paper towels, she dried her face not looking in the mirror again. Bracing her shoulders she took her own advice. As she got back to the table the others were laughing at Andrew blowing raspberries on CJ's arm.

"Where's Benny Ray?" She asked.

Margo smiled and explained that he was catching up with an old friend. CJ caught on and nodding added. "It's about time."

They didn't have to wait long for lunch and whilst CJ cut Andrew's lunch into sensible sized pieces for a two year old, Sherry did the same for Katie. She listened as the four members of the team talked through various options. It occurred to her that they must have done this many times before and she was not surprised how CJ and Chance slotted back into the routine so easily. They were already calling Matt, 'Major'.

With the dishes cleared away, Matt opened his mobile phone and put through a call to Benny Ray. He couldn't stop himself smiling as he explained to his sniper that they all wanted to rendezvous at Lizzie's, if that was okay with her. The answer from Lizzie was in the affirmative and they were soon back in the car park. Chance opted to car share with Matt and Margo, claiming it made sense as they had been cramped in the hire car. When CJ and Sherry settled into the front of the car, the twins were just starting to complain.

"How far is it to Lizzie's?" Sherry asked.

"About 20 minutes," CJ answered, easing his way into the one-way system that plagued Hereford City Centre. A purple Renault got in behind them before Matt followed them out of the car park.

"Listen..." he hesitated before going on. Sherry didn't encourage him. "I want you to stop with Lizzie for a couple of hours while we go and see if we can find Patrick at this house. We won't be long and with all of us it'll be perfectly safe."

"Alright, CJ, but don't go chasing off without telling me what's happening, Ok?" Sherry had decided on the long drive up to Hereford that she had to let him go off and at least try and find Patrick.

"I won't, love," he reassured her.

The Renault behind was slowing down and with roads the width they were, Matt couldn't keep up with CJ. Sherry looked behind her and told CJ to slow down.

"It's alright, they know where they're going."

Sherry turned back, but not before out of the corner of her eye she saw a caravan pull out in front of the Renault. It blocked her view of Matt's car completely. Leaving the one-way system they were soon heading out into the country. The road to Lizzie's parents house led first along the main from Hereford to Leominster road and then off to the right along a single track. There was no chance to pass other than at specific passing points and those were few and far between. Sherry was intrigued by the countryside. Far to her left in the distance she could see a large hill rising up. The rest of the land around her was flat. The fields were filled with apple trees and she remembered CJ telling her that the area around Hereford was famous for Cider. She had declined trying it at the pub but Margo had taken a small glass and seemed to enjoy it.

Suddenly in front of them a tractor pulled out across their path. CJ hit the brakes. Somehow Sherry was aware that the caravan was no longer behind them, but she still couldn't see Matt's car. Suddenly she knew something was wrong. She turned to CJ who was way ahead of her. He had the car in reverse and was turning to look over his shoulder.

"Lock the doors," he ordered.

Sherry did as she was told. The car lurched and CJ swore. Looking forward Sherry saw four men carrying rifles walking towards them. She didn't realise it, but she grabbed CJ as she screamed his name. The twins started crying and Sherry looked at her children and then back to CJ. There was a plea in her eyes.

"CJ, the twins."

"I know, love, I know."

The car was moving backwards at an alarming rate with CJ skillfully avoiding the high hedgerows that lined the road. As he managed to manouver round a bend in the road the caravan was in his way and the two vehicles collided. Sherry didn't know where to look. Katie was crying from the jolt of the collision, but Andrew, who had stopped crying, now seemed unperturbed. The four men approached the car. They wore black, balaclavas covered their heads and one of them pointed a shotgun at the car and pulled the trigger.

Chapter 14 - The Information

As Benny Ray spoke to Matt on his mobile, Lizzie's mobile went off. She took herself into the kitchen so she didn't disturb him. Her call was from her friend at NSIS. He had information for her on Patrick, but as his enquiries had been informal he didn't want to pass what he had through official channels. He wanted to fax the stuff to her but as she explained to him, she was at her parents' home and she had neither fax nor a computer let alone Internet access. Thinking for a moment, she asked her friend to hang on and went back into the living room. Benny Ray was still on the phone and asked her if the others could come to the house. She agreed readily and grabbed the phone book, thumbing through pages umtil she came to the listing she wanted. The house phone sat by the phone book and she was dialling a number whilst asking her friend to hold on a little longer. When she got through on the landline the conversation was short and left Lizzie slightly annoyed. She passed on a telephone number to her friend on the other end of the mobile and then disconnected.

The frenetic activity on the telephones of the last few minutes contrasted completely with their relaxed state immediately before. They both stood in the middle of the living room holding their mobile phones. Lizzie looked at Benny Ray, his unbuttoned shirt and ruffled hair and she started to laugh.

"Play time over?" He asked.

"I think so," she replied, but closed the space between them quickly to reach him again before she left. Her arms went round his waist. "I have to go. That was Jeremy, my friend at NSIS. He has some information he thinks will help us, but he can't send it through official channels. He is faxing it to a place I know in town, but they'll be closing soon so I have to go now if I want to get there before they close. I can't wait for the others to get here, can you stay behind?"

Benny Ray pulled her closer and slipped his hand inside the back of her trousers, "How long will you be?"

Her face turned up to his and their lips met. When they broke apart she promised to make it back in record time. Grabbing the car keys and her handbag, she couldn't resist one more kiss before she left.

The journey into the centre of Hereford should have taken just under thirty minutes on a Saturday afternoon but within ten minutes of being on the road a farmer waved her down. She couldn't see anything, but the road bent away out of sight about one hundred yards beyond her.

"Sorry, Miss, but the road is blocked and I'm waiting for Bill to tow me out."

His accent was thick and he didn't look to bright, thought Lizzie.

"Okay, I'll have to reverse though. Can I pull forward into the farmyard and reverse there?"

For a moment Lizzie thought the farmer was angry, but put the expression down to stupidity as the farmer pointed back behind Lizzie to a tiny gap in the fence which was only just big enough for her Freelander. She nodded reluctantly, thanked the farmer and managed eventually to complete her three-point turn. Lizzie was annoyed at the delay but was used to these roads and if it had not been a stuck tractor it would have been cows going to be milked or something else equally as slow. She was already planning the second quickest route into Hereford in her head so she could collect the information that was waiting for her.

Chapter 15 - The Snatch

CJ reacted to the shotgun being lifted by yelling at Sherry to lift up her legs. He saw her twist in her seat to protect the twins and he reached across so his body partly sheltered hers. The shotgun had been aimed low and he knew it was done to destroy the engine, so they couldn't try and get away, which probably meant they weren't going to be killed, not straight away anyway. In the car they were sitting ducks. He'd recognized their garb straight away and knew if these guys wanted them dead then the job would have already been accomplished with the minimum of fuss.

As the engine was hit the noise was deafening. He swore loudly in Sherry's ear and she turned to him, fear etched on her face. CJ didn't know what to say to his wife, and could only stare at the twins who were now both screaming. I know how you feel, thought CJ to himself.

A tap on the driver side window puller him back to the front of what was left of the car. The black clad figure outside gestured that he should step out of the vehicle very quickly. Sherry grabbed his arm.

"What choice do I have, love?" He replied quietly.

There was a second knock, again on CJ's window and now a third on the passenger side. CJ slowly and with great show unlocked the car door. Keeping his hands in sight at all times, he allowed the man who had knocked on the window to open the door. He climbed out and was swiftly turned to face the car, pushed face first against the rear passenger door and thoroughly and professionally searched. As Sherry's door was opened CJ bristled. She got out of the car and was searched just as ruthlessly. CJ objected and for his sins received a blow to the kidneys with the stock of the shotgun that dropped him to his knees. Sherry called out his name and he used the car to haul himself upright, where he was able to reassure her through gritted teeth that he was alright.

A white transit van, common on almost every road in England pulled out from the entrance to the farm that the tractor had previously exited from. The 'farmer' who had intercepted Lizzie, now dressed in similar clothing to the rest of the black clad men got out of the transit and walked towards Sherry. Her arms had been pulled behind her and riot cuffs applied. CJ was similarly restrained. The new arrival, who had an air of command about him, peered inside the car. He stood up and appeared to consider for a moment. He jerked his head towards the transit and the man next to Sherry started to drag her towards the white vehicle.

There was something about the man in charge that started alarm bells ringing in CJ's head. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, maybe the way he walked or the way he jerked his head, but as Sherry started to struggle against being separated from the twins, those thoughts fled. CJ leaned forward against the car and using it as best he could with his arms pinned behind his back, he launched himself backwards and at the last moment snapped back his head so it came into contact with the man behind him. Turning fast CJ kicked the man in the groin as he tried to stem the flow of blood from his injured face. CJ never stood a chance, but he made it halfway to Sherry before the man in charge stepped in front of him and pulling a wicked looking knife stopped CJ with a blow to the thigh that had him rolling on the ground in agony, blood seeping from the wound.

As he was picked up from the ground and unceremoniously carried to the rear of the transit and then bundled in, he could hear Sherry's shout alternate between calling his name and crying for her babies. She followed him into the back of the transit only slightly less roughly. Inside the transit there was hardly any light, the windows having been painted out. They were moving. CJ felt the lurch as they moved forward in the confines of the lane. He heard the tractor engine start up and figured that within thirty seconds or so anyone passing by this spot would never guess that such a violent act had taken place. Sherry sobbed quietly beside him. He pulled himself into a sitting position and tried to comfort her with his words.

"Its okay, love, they'll be alright. Matt, Margo and Chance are behind us. They'll find them."

She was inconsolable, dropping her head to his shoulder, making what physical contact she could. CJ wasn't able to tell if what he'd said had helped, he wasn't sure he believed it himself.

Chapter 16 - The Babysitter (part one)

The purple Renault in front of Matt, Margo and Chance had slowed to a crawl as they travelled along the lane to the house. Whoever was driving had wound down the driver's side window and kept flapping his arm around in a bad imitation of a wounded bird trying to take off. Margo, astounded, finally interpreted this ridiculous gesturing.

"I think he wants us to pass him."

"And how would we do that?" asked Matt through gritted teeth. "Over the top? How do these people get anywhere in a hurry?" He said, almost to himself.

Matt finally found the horn and gave the car a long blast. It made so much noise he looked up at Margo slightly embarrassed. She was grinning at him. The sound of the horn only increased the gesticulations of the car driver and seemed to slow the car down even more. They had not seen CJ's car now for a good few minutes and Matt hoped they had not been similarly held up. Finally the car pulled over into the entrance of a field. Matt gave an enormous sigh, pushed the car into second gear and roared past the offending vehicle. Quickly slipping into third gear and taking the speed up to thirty five miles an hour where he could, Matt tried to make up for lost time. Passing a small farm with a large tractor parked in the yard Matt braked hard and the rear end slipped on the muddy surface of the lane. Controlling the spin he brought the cat to a halt and was out and sprinting across the lane into a field opposite the farm entrance. He took the five-barred gate in a leap and pulled open the door of CJ's car not knowing what to expect.

Matt pounded on the door of Lizzie's parents' house. He even called to Benny Ray to open the door. The noise was incredible. Matt couldn't believe that two small children could make so much noise, and the smell! That didn't bear thinking about. It had been the same in CJ's hire car; the stench and the noise. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not when he saw the twins were in the car. He was glad they were safe, but he knew neither Sherry nor CJ would have left them behind without a fight or at gunpoint and that worried him. Chance and Margo had taken a twin each from their car seats. Matt was glad he was left to be pack horse, gathering all the bags from the boot of the car and pushing them in the car Lizzie had offered them the use of last night over dinner. The screaming had lasted all the way back to the cottage and now all Matt wanted was for it to stop so he could think straight.

As Benny Ray opened the door, Matt pushed passed into the living room and dumped the bags on the sofa.

"Benny Ray, we need to get these kids seen to. Help Chance and Margo while I work out what the hell is going on. Where's Lizzie?" Matt barked.

Laying Andrew on a towel he had taken from one of the bags and placed on the floor, Benny Ray soon had poppers and buttons undone and was removing the offending nappy. Matt tried to look away, but was horribly drawn to watching Benny Ray deftly remove, clean, powder and change first one twin then the other. Margo attempted to help, but proved more of a hindrance. Chance had taken two bottles into the kitchen and found some juice in the fridge, which he had divided between the bottles. Soon Benny Ray and Margo were sitting on the sofa with two quiet and clean children on their laps.

"Like to tell me what's going on Major?" Benny Ray queried.

Matt explained what little they knew and asked where Lizzie was. Benny Ray told them about the phone call Lizzie had received and the information she was going to get. Taking Benny Ray's phone Matt rang Lizzie and quickly informed her of the up to date situation. Benny Ray couldn't hear what Lizzie was saying, but he could see Matt's face turn grim.

"I don't know, Matt. That fax should have been here by now. I've tried Jeremy's phone and he's not answering. He's got to be careful. If they find h got this information for me without an official request, he'll face disciplinary procedures. I know he won't let us down, Matt. Please be patient."

Matt wasn't happy as he listened to Lizzie, but could hardly do anything about it. He reassured her that he understood and then asked where she was.

"If we came to you it would save time in the long run," he told her.

Lizzie swiftly gave him directions and he ended the call. He paced the room.

Andrew had finished his bottle and was clambering all over Benny Ray. Without thinking the sniper was holding and supporting the boy, letting him go so far, but always bringing him back before disaster and the back or the arm of the sofa loomed. Matt realised that with three children of his own Benny Ray was used to all this. That thought cemented his plans. He knew he would have a fight on his hands, but he couldn't think of another way. Margo couldn't even change Katie's diaper adequately and she certainly didn't have the sniper's touch. With Katie getting as restless as Andrew, Margo's answer was to sit her on the floor. Margo rubbed her hands together as if signifying that she had got rid of Katie. Matt smiled, Margo would make a good Lady Macbeth. Standing, feet apart in front of the sofa with his arms crossed, Matt picked a spot just above Benny Ray's head to concentrate on. He wanted to avoid Benny Ray's accusing look when he spelt out his plan.

"Lizzie is still waiting for the fax. Whoever has CJ and Sherry has a head start on us and as time could be crucial here we're going to meet up with Lizzie. Well, almost all of us." Matt mumbled the last sentence. "We know from what CJ said that Patrick's house is somewhere in the Town Centre. With any luck that address will be in the fax. If we're already in town we save time."

"And if that address isn't there, Major?" Chance asked.

"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it," he replied. Matt knew that if they didn't get a definite lead from the fax, he was stumped; he had nothing to go on. "But," he went on quickly, "we can't trail these kids round the countryside. Someone has to stay here with them."

Benny Ray stood up and handed Andrew to Margo. "I'll get changed, Major. Give me a couple of minutes."

Margo stood, her mouth open in amazement holding Andrew as if he was a bag of snakes.

"Oh, no! I'm not staying here with them. Just because I'm a woman you're not dumping them on me."

She put Andrew on the floor next to Katie. Andrew promptly hit his sister with his empty bottle and she started to cry again. Benny Ray bent down, took the bottle from Andrew and ruffled Katie's hair until she smiled and then he picked Andrew up. The room went quiet. Benny Ray looked round at the two male faces not quite looking at him and Margo who now stood with her hands on her hips defying him to again suggest she play mum.

"Major, you can't expect me to stay behind?" Benny Ray was horror struck at the thought, "You're going to need me. If things go south I need to be there with you."

Matt was backing away from Benny Ray. His arms were held wide and away from his body almost in supplication or surrender.

"Well I can't do it. I don't know the first thing about babies."

Benny Ray retorted. "They're not babies, they're two years old."

"See what I mean Benny Ray. You know all about this stuff. Chance is the only one of us who knows what Patrick looks like..."

"And I'm not stopping," interrupted Margo.

"No...No.. You can't ask me to do this Major!" Benny Ray was desperate.

"You have three kids Benny Ray, this should be a piece of cake for you," Matt attempted a smile, but stopped. He knew the look in those eyes, he had seen it before. It had always been directed at someone else, never at him and now being on the receiving end, he was glad Benny Ray was on their side. He was also glad Benny Ray had Andrew in his arms. He hoped that would save him.

"Look, as soon as we hook up with Lizzie, we can send her back here with the address and you can take her car and rendevouz with us. We'll be gone, what, an hour, tops."

Benny Ray stared hard at Matt who felt those pale blue eyes burn into him. He matched the sniper's glare. Whatever Benny Ray saw must have convinced him, he relented, slightly.

"Ok, but no more than an hour Major. Or I come after you, twins and all."

Matt didn't know what made him shudder more, the thought of his second in command coming after him or the thought of being left alone with the twins.

After they had gone, Benny Ray came back into the living room. Katie was still sitting on the floor and she seemed to be chewing something. Andrew was not in sight. A loud crash from the kitchen followed by a cry of fright gave away where he was. Benny Ray grabbed up Katie, pulled her hand out of her mouth and discovered her chewing on the lid of the talcum powder container. He gently took the plastic top away from her as he walked towards the kitchen. There had been no more crashes, but the crying was still going on. Andrew had found the saucepans. He was now sitting on the floor surrounded by them. Benny Ray put Katie on the floor next to her brother. Checking that the floor didn't have anything on it Katie might try and eat, he reached into the utensil pot and took out a wooden spoon and spatula. Giving one to each child it took about a split second for both of them to catch on. You wouldn't call it music, cacophony was more accurate. Benny Ray sat on the floor at the other side of the kitchen and sighed. His brother Billy Joe had once gleefully regaled him with a tale of him doing the same sort of thing, but with a piece of 2" x 4" and some hub caps. He almost smiled at the memory when his eyes caught the door to the garage and he knew the bike was there, waiting. Temptation almost won out, but Andrew was off again, this time with a wooden spoon in his hand.

Chapter 17 - The Hunt

Matt managed to find his way to the address Lizzie had given him with no problems, despite Hereford's one-way system. Parking was another matter. There was no on road parking nearby and the nearest multi storey car park had been passed way back. Eventually he pulled into the forecourt of a petrol station and parked as far out of the line of sight of the office as he could.

"Let's hope this doesn't take long," he muttered to Margo.

The three of them backtracked to Lizzie's location as fast as they could without running and drawing attention to themselves. Lizzie was waiting outside. She shook her head before they reached her. "Nothing yet, Matt."

"Damn."

Matt quizzed Lizzie about her source and was satisfied with her answers, even if he was still frustrated. Every part of him screamed to be doing something. He took that pent up energy and stored it up knowing that at some point it would be let loose constructively.

"Lizzie." A red haired youth stuck his head out of the shop and handed her several sheets of paper. She quickly looked them over, divided them in two and gave two sheets each to Matt and Margo. Chance read over Margo's shoulder. Matt finished reading and handed the two sheets back to Lizzie. He walked away a few paces, deep in thought. He turned back to the others.

"I don't like going into this without any back up or any real plan, but I don't see another option."

No one disagreed with him. He suddenly stood straighter, as if a great weight had been lifted from him; at last something was going to happen.

"Lizzie, do you know the address?"

Lizzie nodded.

"Ok, how do we approach it?"

Lizzie thought hard. When she was younger she had lived in the city and Hereford wasn't that big that you didn't get to know most of it going to school and growing up.

"It's a quiet area, terraced houses with the front doors opening onto the street. As I recall these types of streets, the houses all have a shared rear pedestrian access."

"Ok, Lizzie I'm with you in your car. Chance you're with Margo. Stay behind and stay back. I want you parked up before we get there. Lizzie and I will do the drive past to check we haven't got company. Two cars doing a drive by is a little too suspicious and, to be honest, Chance, you don't exactly blend in here."

Chance nodded. "Not too many brothers in this neck of the wood," he smiled at Lizzie.

It took about fifteen minutes to get to the address. Lizzie kept in touch with Chance and Margo via her mobile, worried that the charge was horribly low and dreading the phone bill she would eventually receive. As they drove down Pemberton Road looking for number sixty two, there was only enough room for one car to pass. It was Saturday afternoon and most cars were parked up for the weekend. On street parking just left the narrow space down the middle. With Lizzie driving it was Matt who spotted the address. A nondescript terraced house and the two men sitting in their car fifty yards away.

"It's being watched," he stated.

Lizzie nodded. They returned to Chance and Margo who were parked in an adjoining street. As they had driven round Matt had followed Lizzie's description and seen the opening between the houses, an alleyway that led to the shared pedestrian rear access.

"The position of the tangos means they've got the front of the house and the only rear access covered. We have to find another way in."

Lizzie had been thinking about that.

"Do you think they will have anyone actually around the back of the house?" she asked Matt.

"Unlikely," Matt replied. "With both exits effectively covered they probably just have plenty of back up in case anyone shows. Why?"

"Well..." she hesitated and Matt encouraged her to go on. "All of these houses have gates from the back gardens onto the rear access and they were built back to back. So the gardens are separated by the path." She felt she wasn't explaining herself very well. "If we go to the next parallel street there will be another alley way which joins up with this one. The rear access will be shared by both rows of houses."

Margo smiled. "I like it."

Matt slapped Lizzie on the back. "Me too."

They were soon in the next street. Once again Lizzie and Matt did the drive by. This time they didn't spot any watchers. Matt spoke to Margo. "It's all clear. Leave the vehicle and approach on foot. Exercise extreme caution, we may still have company."

Lizzie and Matt parked. "I want you to stay here, Lizzie." Before she could object, he explained himself. "I need someone out here in case we get unexpected visitors. We can't afford to be surprised, but I can't have you sitting in your car. You know how easy it was for us to spot the tangos and it would be just as easy to spot you."

Lizzie saw the sense in what he was saying. "There's a bus stop at the end of the street, I could wait there."

"Ok, that's good and keep your phone handy. Let us know if you see anything suspicious. I'd rather have a false alarm than be surprised."

Leaving the car, Matt quickly found his way to the rear access and made his way silently between the houses. Chance and Margo were already waiting for him outside the rear entrance to Patrick's house.

"All quiet here, Major," reported Chance.

Margo opened the gate in the fence. It wasn't locked. She raised her eyebrow and looked at Matt. He nodded, knowing her thoughts. They entered the garden of the house and stood still, taking stock of what they could see. Nothing looked out of place; a patio with a few tubs full of what no doubt once had been thriving plants, but were now brown dried twigs and what Matt guessed was a trash can, nothing else. No chairs, tables or other paraphernalia of normal life, there were no curtains at the windows and no lights on inside.

The three fanned out as Matt slowly made his way to the back door. Standing to one side he put his hand on the handle and pulled it down expecting to meet resistance. The door opened inward, silently. I really don't like this, he thought. He stepped inside the door and moved swiftly to the right so he wasn't framed in the doorway. Margo and Chance were waiting outside for his all clear signal. There was one exit from the kitchen. From what Matt could see it led into a dingy hall. The kitchen was a small square and there was nowhere anyone could hide. He picked his way through the debris strewn across the floor and checked out the hallway. He could see the front door. There was a doorway to his right and stairs going up to his left. As he inched his way forward down the hall he noticed a door set into the area under the stairs. The door was ajar. He slowly pulled it open. It was an empty store cupboard. Not even a brush or a paint pot took up any space. Odd he thought. He continued to make progress down the hallway stopping just before the doorway on his right. He listened and satisfying himself over the absence of sounds he moved on through the door. He knew from his drive by with Lizzie that there were no curtains at the front of the house. Keeping to the rear of the room he checked that they had no company before returning to the kitchen to signal Chance and Margo.

As all three of them stood silently in the hall, Matt motioned Chance to check the upstairs while he and Margo went cautiously back to the room on the right. Nobody had spoken since they entered the house. They had no idea whether the place was wired for sound. Every precaution was taken. The room contained a sofa and a chair, a glass topped coffee table and a chest of drawers on top of which had stood a hifi system. There was no TV, no pictures on the wall and even the carpet was threadbare. The entire contents of the chest of drawers were on the floor. The sofa and chair had been slashed and the carpet pulled up and ripped. Matt looked at Margo and turned to leave the room. As he did the mobile phone in his pocket clunked against the chest of drawers. The noise was loud in their ears. They stopped awaiting some reaction. Matt took the phone from his pocket and looked at the front. It appeared to be undamaged. Margo was signalling to him with a hand signal across her throat. He caught her understanding and turned the phone to silent. He returned the phone to his pocket.

Returning to the hall, Chance beckoned them up the stairs. The same devastation was apparent in the two bedrooms and the bathroom. Bedding had been pulled off beds, mattresses slashed and another hifi system in the bigger of the two rooms had been torn apart. Its mangled remains lay scattered amongst cassette cases and tapes. As Matt signalled them to leave Chance stopped and looked closely into the pile of tapes. Apart from one, they were all pre-recorded tapes of middle of the road adult orientated rock. CJ music, thought Chance, as he bent down. Patrick had sent them a message once before using a tape, maybe.... Chance picked up the odd tape and pocketed it. He was back with the other two in a few long silent strides.

They left the house the way they had come and were soon in the alleyway.

"Man, whoever got there before us were professionals. That was thorough," commented Chance.

Matt agreed, but was worried, "We're no further forward now then we were before."

"I don't know, Major."

Chance took out the tape and explained his reasons for bringing it out of the house. Matt nodded. "Anything's worth a try at this stage. Let's get back to the cars and rendezvous with Benny Ray."

As they cautiously approached the entrance of the alleyway onto the street Matt risked a glance in the direction of the bus stop. Lizzie wasn't there. He squatted down and the others followed his lead.

"Lizzie's gone," he reported.

"She's professional enough not to leave without good reason," Margo stated.

"That's what I am afraid of," said Matt.

Just then he heard footsteps in the street. Lizzie walked passed without a glance at them and as she passed she managed to drop something into a small flowerbed a house-proud owner had cultivated. Matt let her walk along far enough to reach the end of the street before he reached in amongst the flowers and retrieved a crumpled piece of paper with a car key inside. On the paper Lizzie had scrawled a car make and model, colour and registration number, with a follow up message which read 'drove by twice, two occupants - sus. Meet back at garage.' Checking the street, he stood and walked from the passageway, looking for all the world as if he had every right to do so. Making his way directly to the car, he got in, pulled out into the road and drove off. He had passed the note to Margo and Chance who waited ten minutes and then left the road in the opposite direction.

When Matt pulled into the garage he could see Chance and Margo filling up with petrol. He drove past and round towards the car wash. Lizzie was waiting for him in the spot where he had previously parked. He brought the car to a halt and she got in.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Fine," she nodded.

"What happened?"

"The car drove down the road twice. I wasn't sure, but I wasn't happy. The bus was due and if they'd come back and I was still standing there it would have been a dead give away. So I left and hid behind the car opposite the entrance to the alleyway. I tried to ring you, but you didn't answer your phone."

From her tone of voice Matt could tell the lack of response from his phone had worried her. He took the phone from the pocket of his jacket and checked it. There were six calls he had missed. He had forgotten to turn the phone back from silent after they had left the house.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you," he said ruefully.

"As long as everyone is okay. What now?"

"Now we find somewhere we can both park up."

Lizzie looked at her watch. "The shoppers' car park will be beginning to empty about now. It's a multi storey, we should get some privacy there."

"Let's go."

Lizzie directed Matt to the multi storey car park. He checked in the wing mirror that Chance and Margo had pulled out behind him, two cars further back. They gathered together in Lizzie's car once they had parked. Chance handed Lizzie the tape from Patrick's house.

"That's Patrick's voice," said Chance, as the voice came out of the speakers.

At the end of the message, Matt rewound the tape and played it again.

"At least we know who we're dealing with now," said Margo.

Chance looked at her quizzically. "Is that supposed to be a comfort? You know the reputation these guys have. We're on foreign soil, unarmed, no back up, no Intel, no support. We couldn't be more exposed."

"True, but that's going to work in our favor," Matt smiled.

"It is?" echoed Chance.

"Well they'd never expect us to take them on under those circumstances," Matt said straight-faced.

"And for good reason," Chance spluttered.

Margo who had been mentally compiling a list of requirements, butted in, "We need maps, knives..." She thought again. "Lizzie is there anywhere we can buy crossbows, night vision gear, comm. units?"

"The first three I can say yes to, the night vision gear and comm. units, no, not here in this place."

"Ok, we go with what we can get. Lizzie, Margo, you ladies are going shopping. Chance and I need to talk." Matt issued his orders.

Margo smiled broadly and got out of the car. Lizzie followed her. Matt was sure he heard Margo say something to Lizzie about hats as the two women moved away. He shook his head and outlined his thoughts to Chance.

Chapter 18 - The Babysitter (part two)

Lizzie wasn't back in an hour, or even three. Benny Ray couldn't get hold of her or Matt on their mobiles. For a second he suspected that they'd turned them off on purpose. He dismissed the thought and became concerned. The three hours since Matt, Margo and Chance had left had seen Benny Ray cover every inch of the house. He'd tried taking the twins outside, but the fence was too flimsy and not secure and he didn't fancy chasing them across the countryside, so they'd all stayed indoors. The stairs had provided endless fun and Benny Ray had only resorted to violence twice, once when Katie stuck her finger in the electrical socket for the sixth time and then when Andrew had bitten him. He'd been surprised at that and had bitten Andrew back to show him it hurt and one ornament had been lost before Benny Ray's lightening reflexes had secured it. The other ornaments he managed to save. Another nappy change had come and gone, but without the top that Katie had chewed, the talcum powder had gone everywhere when she'd kicked it over.

Searching for anything that remotely resembled a toy Benny Ray had found a set of tennis balls and a large cardboard box half full of clothes. He had taken the clothes out and given the box to the twins to play with. They had clambered inside, with his help, and spent the best part of an hour playing in and around the box. One bad move on Benny Ray's part had been to drag the box into the kitchen with the children inside. They had loved it and shouted for Benny Ray to continue to pull them round the house. He had finally persuaded them to stop and found enough food in the kitchen to make scrambled eggs and toast. The twins seemed unphased by the absence of their parents and ate almost everything on their plates. Checking in the freezer for ice cream, Benny Ray had once again looked longingly at the bike, standing waiting in the gloom. He sighed as he closed the door and took the ice cream into the kitchen. The ice cream disappeared the same way as the egg and this time Benny Ray had joined them.

Running out of ideas and with the box now being ignored by Katie, Benny Ray turned on the television. There was some cartoon on and Katie sat on the floor in front of the TV drinking her bottle. Andrew was rolling the tennis balls around the kitchen floor watching them bounce off the saucepans. Benny Ray sat on the sofa and checked his watch again. Three hours five minutes. He wasn't sure whether his concerns were for the others or himself. If he could have kept his promise and gone after the Major he would have, but with no suitable vehicle he was stuck.

He heard the sound of an engine and was up and off the sofa. Peering through the window he still had to wait a few seconds before Lizzie's car pulled into the drive. He had the door open before she turned the engine off. He had enough patience to wait until she got in the house before pouncing. "Did you get an address? Where is the Major? What the hell took so long?"

Lizzie stared at him. He could see the puzzled look on her face.

"And hello to you too," she replied, as one eyebrow rose. "Yes, gone and it's a long story. Do you want to hear it or do you just want to go haring across the country?"

She was obviously not happy and he took a deep mental breath before continuing. "I'm sorry. It's just that I've been stuck here for over three hours with the twins, not knowing what was going on. I tried to reach you and Matt on the mobiles."

Lizzie sighed, dropped her handbag on the floor and gave him a little smile. "No I'm sorry. I would've been back a lot sooner, but things got complicated."

Benny Ray waited for her to go on.

"The fax finally came through, just after Matt and the others got to me. It made for some interesting reading. Patrick and Mike are not exactly altar boys; they've been mixing with some very nasty people."

Lizzie took two sheets of close typing out of her pocket and handed it to Benny Ray. He sat on the sofa and studied the copy. She sat next to him enjoying the closeness of his company, even in the circumstances.

"Russian Mafia, Chechen rebels, Basque Separatists! These guys like playing with the devil."

She nodded. "And there's more. Read the final chapter. Now I know its only supposition, but if it is true..." She didn't finish the sentence, but Benny Ray did. "They're in shit deeper than Billy Joe's hog."

Lizzie looked at Benny Ray. "Billy Joe's hog?"

Benny Ray didn't answer, but took the time to go back and read the rest of the fax he had skipped over. When he'd finished he looked at Lizzie. "Matt's gone? Where to?"

She rubbed her eyes. "I think I better start at the beginning and I don't think you're going to like it."

Chapter 19 - The Babysitter (part three)

"And when Margo and I got back we had everything we thought we could get plus a pair of night vision binoculars. They're not good, but they're better than nothing."

Benny Ray had listened to everything Lizzie had said without interruption. When she'd finished, a few well-chosen questions elicited extra information she'd missed out or forgotten.

"Matt was sure we were being watched. Actually he said 'surveilled', but I don't think that's a word."

Benny Ray arched an eyebrow, but said nothing. He could tell she was shaken up about something.

"Matt was right though, I was followed back here by the same car I saw drive down the street. They didn't try and stop me, but I tell you, knowing they are watching scares the hell out of me. I've seen what they can do Benny Ray, even when they aren't really trying."

Benny Ray reassured her. "I won't let them hurt you."

"But you're not going to be here, but don't worry I've already thought of something."

"Where am I going to be then?" He asked patiently.

"Matt took off with Chance and Margo, thinking that if they were followed it would give you an edge."

Lizzie wasn't making an awful lot of sense and he was getting confused. "Me? How?"

She crossed to a large cupboard set against a wall in the living room. Opening a small draw she took out a set of keys and handed them to Benny Ray. "While the bad guys sit out front watching, you are going to slip out the back on the beast."

Benny Ray's eyes lit up.

"You'll need the wire cutters to clip the fence Dad put up last year to keep out the deer, but it's only a few strands and the hedge hasn't grown in all the way yet so you should be able to squeeze the bike through without too much trouble. Then all you have to do is push the bike across the field, avoiding the bull, and the gate on the far side is never locked .No one is normally stupid enough to go in the field with Geronimo, he has something of a reputation locally."

Benny Ray smiled. "Geronimo?".

Lizzie nodded. "You'll also need this."

She had retained two small keys and now walked into the garage. One key unlocked a gun cabinet. From it she took a 20 gauge side-by-side shotgun.

"Dad shoots clay pigeons," she said by way of explanation.

The second key gave access to a box of shells locked in a workbench.

"There aren't many I'm afraid."

Benny Ray inspected the shotgun. "It's well looked after."

Lizzie nodded.

"I'll get ready," Benny Ray told her.

"I'll get the wire cutters," she said quietly.

He came downstairs a few minutes later. Lizzie had checked on the twins and waited for Benny Ray by the bike. She handed him a large rucksack. "It's not ideal, but you should be able to carry the shotgun in it."

She had spread two of the maps she had bought on the worktop. Indicating where they were and where Matt wanted to meet Benny Ray, Lizzie stopped and gazed at his face, studying the detail of the maps, tracing potential routes. She didn't want him to go. He interrupted her reverie by asking her about road conditions. Once a route was settled he turned to her. "What have you decided to do about the 'bad guys'?"

She explained that once he was safely gone she would call the police and report the bike stolen. Playing the hysterical house owner she would call out the local constabulary and if that didn't scare the 'bad guys' off she would point out their car to the boys in blue. Her father was a local Magistrate, so she could always insist they come back regularly to check she was okay. To Benny Ray she seemed confident enough that this would give her the protection she needed. He wasn't so sure. "Maybe I should leave you the shotgun?"

"No, you need it more," she insisted, but then hesitated. "I'm scared, Benny Ray."

"Then you keep the shotgun."

"No," she shook her head, smiling. "Not for me, for you."

He had become so wrapped up in planning and plotting in his own mind, he hadn't considered how she would feel. He knew well enough. Mary Ellen had made him painfully aware on many occasions what it was like to watch him walk off not knowing if he'd ever come back or if he did whether he'd be in one piece. Now here he was doing it all again to someone else he cared for. His life didn't encourage relationships and played havoc with any that managed to arise. He put his hands on her shoulders and spoke softly. "I'll be fine, Lizzie. This is what I do and I do it very well."

She smiled.

"I am going to be a Godfather, I have to come back."

"I want you to come back, Benny Ray." She didn't trust herself to go on.

He kissed her lightly on the lips. "I promise," he said.

She didn't question him, but they both knew he might not be keeping that promise.

"I should go..."

She nodded. "We'll have to push the bike through the house and into the garden."

She handed him the wire cutters and pointed out where the hedge was at its thinnest.

"I'll give you about thirty minutes before I report the bike stolen and don't worry I'll give them the wrong licence number so you won't get picked up by mistake."

He grabbed her around the waist with one arm and kissed her hard. She held on to him desperately. He left without another word. He looked back and saw her watching from inside the patio door. As he pushed the bike across the field he felt her eyes boring into his back. Mentally he shook himself, pushed thoughts of Lizzie out of his head and concentrated on the job in hand. He made it across the field without seeing the bull and was soon on the tarmaced road. The engine started first time. It ticked over beautifully. Somewhere deep in his mind he appreciated the effort Lizzie's Dad had had taken in putting the beast together. Astride the bike with helmet on he let out the clutch and was on his way to meet up with the rest of the team.

Chapter 20 - The Beacons

Matt, Margo and Chance had arrived at their pre set location without too much trouble. They thought they'd spotted a tail, but had managed to lose it at road works where traffic lights had given them an edge. They had not seen anything since. It was just getting dark as they arrived. The sun would be setting in about thirty minutes and the clear skies suggested a clear night, which would have been an advantage but for the fact that there was also a full moon. Matt had checked in Lizzie's diary before she had left them to return to the cottage. He calculated Benny Ray would get to them very soon. The sniper wouldn't want to be left behind and to be honest the small chance they had of success was greatly enhanced with Benny Ray's presence.

On the journey over there had been long discussions about letting the police handle the situation. After all they were ill-equipped as Chance had pointed out. Even now Matt was still in two minds. He knew if they bought in the police they would be sidelined and he faced the prospect of watching whilst someone else took charge of the rescue operation. Experience told him that unless handled correctly, this sort of thing could end up with the hostages dead or injured, very, very easily. He knew his team could do it right. They'd done it before, but they'd weapons, Intel, even back up of a sort from Trout but now they had none of those. They only had themselves. Would that be enough?

"Penny for them?" Margo interrupted his thoughts. "Still thinking we should have bailed on this?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Listen, Matt, think about it. What do we tell the police? Patrick and Mike are supplying arms illegally to just about anyone who wants them. To do that they are in league with someone in the SAS. Somehow this cosy little agreement has gone sour and Mike has been murdered and Patrick is on the run, afraid for his life. The SAS are now hunting Patrick down and we just happen to have stumbled into the middle of it. As a result a foreign national and an ex-SAS Sergeant have been kidnapped in broad daylight. Now just how crazy does that sound? Do you think they'll believe us? The SAS are whiter than white especially in their own backyard. The NSIS fax is only circumstantial and would you go around accusing the SAS on the basis of what was on Patrick's tape? I wouldn't."

"Margo's right, Major," chimed in Chance. "And ok, what if the police take even part of what we say seriously, they're just as likely to assume that this is the work of the guys Patrick has been supplying. 'No honour amongst thieves', isn't that what they say, Major?"

"So assuming the police accept that CJ and Sherry have been kidnapped, who do you think they're going to send in to recover them? Who are the best hostage retrieval people in the world...apart from us... and maybe Delta?" Margo smiled as she finished Chance's argument.

"The SAS," Matt answered reluctantly.

Margo looked smug, "We've got no idea how high up this contact of Patrick's is in the Regiment or, come to that, how many are involved. We're assuming just one, but something as big as this has to involve more people. One person couldn't hide it."

Matt stopped Margo in full flow. "I know. The SAS go in and somehow 'unfortunately' CJ and Sherry don't survive the rescue and with maybe one or two dead soldiers lying around you have the perfect scapegoats."

"Whoever is behind all this walks away, no murder charge, no kidnapping charge, no justice," finished Chance.

The silence settled around them.

"You'all finished talking the hind leg off a donkey?" The Southern drawl made them jump.

"Benny Ray," Matt smiled. "Glad you could make it."

"Wouldn't want to be anywhere else, Major. Now if you folk have done yammering, we have some trash to take out."

Chapter 21 - The Hostages

The journey had taken an age. CJ had no idea where they were heading. At first he'd thought they'd be taken to the base, but after they'd been en route for more than fifteen minutes he knew he was wrong. He'd continued to reassure Sherry the only way he could, with his words and with the tone of his voice. One of the reasons he'd fallen in love with Sherry was her strength and it wasn't long before she recovered her composure and started worrying about his leg rather than the twins. There was nothing much either of them could do about the blood that slowly seeped out. CJ tried to raise the foot, wedging it on the spare tyre. Sherry fell silent resting against CJ. Finally she spoke.

"What will they do to us?"

He looked at her knowing she knew the answer.

"My guess is they're looking for the same thing we are; Patrick." CJ considered before continuing. "Which means that they're either the good guys trying to save Patrick's backside or the bad guys who want to put it in a sling. My money says Patrick doesn't want these guys to find him."

"So who are they?" Sherry asked.

This was the question that had nagged at CJ. He'd racked his brains and finally remembered where he knew the hooded man from. They'd served together in the Regiment. The man had been senior to CJ and as far as he knew was still active. If the men who attacked them were all from the Regiment then CJ knew that this thing had suddenly all got a lot more serious than he'd previously imagined. He hadn't quite got to the bottom of what was happening, but he had some nasty suspicions that he hoped weren't true.

He sighed. "I'm not sure, but I think they're SAS."

Sherry sat bolt upright, looking CJ in the eye. "But if they're SAS why are they doing this? Goddammit, CJ, you were one of them and why would they be chasing Patrick?"

"So many questions, love, not enough answers. I don't know for certain, but one thing's for sure, we'll find out eventually."

The conversation lapsed and the rest of the journey passed uneventfully. CJ answered Sherry's questions as best he could and all the time he felt the dread solidify in his stomach.

It hadn't helped CJ that he knew what was going to happen or that he'd been trained to resist it. It didn't help that he'd been through it all before or that now he was a different man, stronger physically and, more importantly, mentally, than when he was stuck in that dank cell in Libya. After all, a beating is still a beating and when the men delivering the beating are as good at their job as the SAS was at theirs, you know eventually the pain would be too much and you'd talk. On this occasion unfortunately the questions that would be asked would be ones CJ didn't have the answers too, even if he'd wanted to tell them. Actually that was wrong, it was only one question, but CJ still couldn't give them the answer.

"Where is Patrick?"

It became like a mantra to CJ. It was always followed by a punch, kick or blow and each time he tried to make them understand that Patrick was gone, away with the fairies and he, CJ, knew nothing, not a thing, nada, nyet… The beating had stopped. Another voice intruded on his befuddled brain. It was a voice he recognized. He wanted to stand to attention and salute, but his pain-wracked body wouldn't let him. Through swollen, split and bloody lips he managed to get out,

"Sir, yes, Sir."

Hands lifted him off the floor and sat him back on the hard wooden chair he had been knocked off so many times already. Someone put a cup to his lips and he drank cool water until the cup was empty. He licked his lips and tried to focus out of eyes that where already swelling shut. He tried to explain again, but his tongue seemed too large for his mouth.

"Honestly I don't know where he is. I don't."

"I believe you, Sergeant. After all you might be prepared to risk your own life in some outmoded, redundant sense of honour, but I really don't believe you would risk your pretty little wife to save a low life scum like Patrick."

CJ responded by trying to stand up.

"You leave her alone you miserable, son of a bitch. If you touch a hair of her head you bastard I'll kill you."

Two hands easily restrained him and pushed him back into his chair, making a mockery of his threat. The face that the voice belonged to swam into CJ's blurry vision as the owner of that voice moved closer to him.

"If I thought for a second that you were holding anything back I wouldn't hesitate to do whatever it took to get you to talk, including doing more than touching the annoying Mrs. Yates. But as I am convinced of your sincerity, she is safe, for the moment. After all, we all know how easy it is to make you talk, Sergeant. All we have to do is ask your brother. Oh no, we can't, he isn't here anymore, is he? He didn't talk."

CJ exploded out of the chair.

"You fucking bastard. We all know where you were when the shit hit the fan, don't we Cadwallader? You were running as fast as you could in the opposite direction. What a brave little soldier you were. You fucking little shit!"

As CJ ranted flecks of blood and saliva hit the other man in the face. Suddenly he lashed out dropping CJ to the floor with a single punch. As he wiped the flecks from his face, he ordered his men.

"Reunite the happy couple."

Chapter 22 - The Night

The Brecon Beacons; five hundred and nineteen square miles of wild open moorland, over half of it above one thousand feet. Made up of waterfalls, windswept mountains, sheltered valleys and isolated farmsteads, it was a quartet of mountains consisting of the Brecon Beacons and the Black Mountains in the east and the Black Mountain and Forest Fawr in the west. The range of Welsh mountains and uplands were drained by fast flowing rivers, which cut deep into the landscape as they fell away to the south where the valleys became wooded. The Brecon Beacons were also home to survival training for the SAS. The Army's thinking being that, if you could survive on the Beacons, you could survive anywhere.

A more inhospitable and desolate place was hard to imagine, thought Matt. He'd watched the scenery unfold on their drive down. He'd been impressed by the awesome bleakness but less impressed by the thought that he and his team would have to cross this godforsaken landscape even before they got to the cottage that Patrick had told them on the tape was the headquarters of their adversary and, as far as Matt was concerned, the place where CJ and Sherry would be held.

As Matt had feared the moon was rising. With little cloud cover, every feature of the Black Mountain was bathed in an eerie cold light. Fortunately the terrain gave them more cover than the light. They had met in a small village with the almost unpronounceable Welsh name of Ystradowen. The Bryn-Henllys Bridge had provided good cover and even in the dark had been easy to spot. After Benny Ray had found them they'd divided up the spoils of the shopping trip and consulted the maps afresh by torchlight. Benny Ray had worked out a route that gave them the best of the cover and got them as close to the cottage as was possible without hitting open ground. He had one serious concern.

"If I was them, Major, and I had enough people I'd post them here, here and here. Each spot is about as high as you can get around the target and forms good triangular cover. It's going to be tough to approach without being seen."

Matt studied the map. Benny Ray was right, this was not going to be easy, but then he hadn't expected it to be. Any luck they had tonight they would have to make themselves.

"We have to assume that they do have enough people, Benny Ray," Matt replied.

As the four of them gathered round the map, Benny Ray indicated a route with his finger. Margo held the torch. They were crouched under an old brick railway bridge. The railway tracks had been long since removed, but the sunken path that the tracks had followed through the bottom of the valley was still there and the vegetation wasn't as thick as elsewhere, almost as if the gloomy dank path was too dismal for much vegetation to grow. Benny Ray's finger stopped at a point on the map. It was labeled 'Ffrydiau Twrch (sprs)'.

"This is where we lose the advantage of the little cover we'll have. The climb up is quite steep and I reckon we could be visible about a hundred feet from the top."

Matt didn't question his second-in-command. If Benny Ray thought that was the best way in, then it was. As they shouldered their packs, Matt looked to the sky and hoped for cloud. He didn't think his hopes would be answered.

The team left the shelter of the bridge and silently made their way out of the village. As the valley widened slightly just after the weir, the vegetation was more abundant, but still quite low to the ground. Gorse and heather straddled their path, which quickly narrowed again as they passed the first of the disused mines. In the moonlight they picked their way easily. They slowed as they passed the last sign of civilization. The yellow glow of lights from Cyllie Farm made each of the team feel a little more isolated, a little bit more alone in the black bleak landscape. The farm dog barked twice, but was satisfied that the four figures moving past were not going to invade his domain. As the path bent through what looked like a chicane on the map, the valley widened again. It would be the last easy going until they reached the top of Cefn Carn Fadog, their first rally point. The valley sides started to close in, the steepness throwing the team into shadow despite the moonlight.

A sound soon reached their ears.

"Goats," Chance whispered.

"Sheep," Benny Ray replied.

As they exited the chicane they could see sheep scattered over the hillside. About half a kilometer away there was a large flock gathered.

"Do they have shepherds?" Matt asked.

"There's only one Sheppard out here, Major," Chance smiled.

It took Matt a second or two to catch on. Margo and Benny Ray moved ahead of him chuckling. Chance had taken point. The sheep had gathered around a low stone building. It hardly had a roof, but the rough-hewn walls would afford some cover when the weather got bad, which Matt assumed was most of the time. Half a dozen of the sheep took off about one hundred meters in front of Matt. He thought his presence had startled them. As the railway had run along the bottom of the valley for the most part the valley floor was smooth, but every now and then an occasional rockslide had deposited some loose stone on the valley floor. Maybe that was one reason the railway had stopped running. People didn't take kindly to being showered with rocks as they traveled on their way.

Matt's right foot slipped on one of the rocks embedded in the ground. He put his hand out to steady himself as his balance went. He pulled his hand back sharply from the gorse, cursing as he did. There was blood on the palm of his hand. He wiped the blood on his sleeve to see if the gorse had left any thorns. Instead there were two small puncture wounds.

"Benny Ray," he whispered loudly.

Almost immediately the sniper was at his side.

"Do they have snakes around here?"

Benny Ray looked at Matt before replying. "Why?"

Matt showed him the puncture wounds.

"Well seeing as that's a snake bite, I reckon they must have snakes. Are you okay, Major?"

Their lack of progress had alerted Margo and Chance who back-tracked to the two men. As Matt explained what had happened, Margo got out the first aid kit from the car. There was little she could do but clean the wounds and put a band-aid on his palm. Matt felt alright and insisted the team press on. Benny Ray made Matt go in the middle as he took rear guard. Matt shook his head as his second-in-command once again took on mothering duties.

It was two kilometers from the sheepfold to Ffyrdiau Twrch. By the time they reached the turn off point Matt's hand was going numb. It was also looking slightly swollen. He said nothing to the others, but as they stopped for Benny Ray to consult the map, Margo was there checking on him, feeling his pulse and putting her hand on his forehead.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

He was not going to admit to feeling unwell, but as he tried to reassure her his mouth didn't seem to want to work properly, it felt thick and slow. He knew as soon as he said "Okay" it had come out all wrong. Margo gave him a curious look, but Matt hurriedly managed to add. "Seriously I'm fine."

It must have convinced her, as she stood up and nodded.

It was at this point that they had to leave the path of the disused railway and the cover and ease of movement it afforded. The next part of the journey went up. They were headed for one of the high points that Benny Ray expected to be used as a lookout. They had agreed that they needed to remove this one lookout, if he was there, to stand any chance of getting close to the cottage that was their objective. If they succeeded in removing the man it would allow them to move in the shelter of the hill out of site of the other two vantage points. There was then an area of shake holes and disused quarries that they hoped would provide cover. It was their best chance. The journey up the hill was not a climb so much as a steep walk. The ground was pretty much bare. The sheep had left a few ferns and some moss, but little else. There was little in the way of loose stone to alert the guard and Benny Ray seemed confident of success.

About half way up the slope there were a couple of shake holes. As they drew level with the first, Matt almost collapsed on to the ground. He dug out his bottle of water and tried to gulp some down. He couldn't understand why swallowing was so difficult. A little water made its way down his throat and he suddenly felt nauseous. He managed to stop himself from vomiting. Benny Ray and Margo were immediately at his side, while Chance watched up the slope to see if their respite had attracted attention. Margo pulled up Matt's sleeve. More of the arm was pink and bloated and even in the moonlight she could see Matt was near collapse.

"He can't go on, Benny Ray," she whispered.

"Can you get him back if we go on?" He asked.

"Go on! Benny Ray, this rescue attempt was at best badly flawed and at the worst ill fated and fool hardy from the beginning with all four of us. The two of you don't stand a chance. We all go back and call in the police and let them handle it."

Benny Ray looked at Margo hearing what she said, but already ignoring it. He knew he was going on and in the end she wouldn't stop him. He stood signaling his imminent departure.

"The Major needs medical attention. You need to help him."

"Benny Ray," Margo hissed, "Don't you dare…"

Before she could continue Benny Ray dropped to one knee and putting his mouth close her ear he made it clear he would brook no dissent.

"Margo, CJ and Sherry are up there. I'm not leaving them there without even trying. Those kids deserve a mum and a dad. I intend to see they get both. Do I make myself clear?"

Despite the quiet level at which the words were spoken, Benny Ray knew Margo would be left in no doubt that he was determined. She nodded at him.

"Be careful, Benny Ray. Both of you," she added, looking Chance.

"We will, sweetpea," he tried to reassure her. "We'll be back before you know it. I want to see that little hat you bought. Take care of the Major."

"I will," she said quietly, as the two men disappeared into the gloom.

Chapter 23 - The Journey up.

Glancing up, Chance thought he felt a spot of rain. As much as he didn't relish the idea of getting wet, he knew rain meant clouds and clouds meant cover. Maybe just for once something was going their way. The rain got heavier as they traversed the last few feet to their target. The rain deadened the sound of their approach, but that also meant that that they couldn't hear any noise that the target might make. Not that they expected him to make much noise. The two men crawled the last few feet on their bellies, not sure exactly when they would get their first view of the top of the hill. The angle of their approach was limited as the topography of the land meant that each hilltop was visible from the other two. They had to come from the reverse slope, which was exactly the direction the lookout would be watching.

Chance breasted the rise first. He signalled Benny Ray to be still as he studied every inch of the hilltop for signs of life. The clouds chose that moment to cover the moon, making his job even more difficult. Just as he was convinced that the hilltop was empty he heard a yawn. He froze. It had come from the far side of a slight undulation in the ground. Chance's observations had led him to believe that the level of the land on the other side of the undulation was at the same level as his side. That couldn't be right. There had to be a slight dip big enough for a man to lie in. It was the perfect spot for the man on guard, but it was literally inches from Benny Ray's head. Chance moved his fingers very slowly and deliberately, signalling to Benny Ray hoping he could understand.

They needed to dispose of the guard without alerting the other two out there hiding in the landscape. Chance let his breath out slowly through his nose, reducing the sounds he made by just being present. He could see Benny Ray laying flat on his stomach like some sort of peculiar statue you might see in one of those modern art galleries Margo liked so much. Mentally he shook himself; he had to find a way to neutralize the target silently and swiftly.

Assuming that the undulation hid him from the target as well as it hid the target from him, Chance slowly removed his jacket and boots. The black man moved like a cat, slow and sure. He held a knife in one hand as he pulled himself over the top of the rise. He waited for a few seconds to assess whether his ascent had attracted attention. Apparently it hadn't as he neither heard nor sensed movement. Centring himself he came round the undulation in one movement and fell flat on the target. He expected to stifle all resistance by dropping on top of the target, but the man he found himself on top of was a bear of a man, at least three or four inches taller than Chance and much heavier. Chance pressed down and felt the man trying to push himself up, resisting all Chance's efforts. As the man beneath him pushed his head up off the ground a hand came up from below and grabbed the man's throat. The man's eyes bulged in surprize and lack of oxygen. It was all over in a few seconds. It wasn't pretty, but it was necessary. The hand around the throat disappeared to be replaced by Benny Ray's face, cold and hard. Chance slithered over the top of the body, collected his gear and was soon following Benny Ray in a crouch that had both men practically on all fours.

Not taking any chances they took advantage of every piece of cover they could find and within a few minutes were under cover of the lip of a quarry. There were four more such quarries between them and the cottage. Chance used the night vision binoculars, which as Lizzie had guessed were not very good. He could just make out the cottage in the distance. In fact it was more a small stone building not unlike the sheepfold, rough-hewn, but bigger. Beside him as they rested Benny Ray was eating a chocolate bar,

"You know this British stuff is pretty good," he murmured between mouthfuls. "Want some?"

Chance nodded and Benny Ray handed over a second bar. With the wrappers stowed away in pockets, the two men moved with the cloud cover and the ground as far as the third quarry. Benny Ray had point and had disappeared first over the edge. So far each of the quarries had been the same, small and shallow with a lot of loose stone in the bottom as though some attempt had been made to make them safe by filling them in. By keeping to the top of the shallow they had avoided the loose stone, the noise of which would have signalled their presence to anyone nearby. As Chance rolled into the lip of the quarry he automatically looked for Benny Ray. The shadow of a standing man loomed over him, gun in hand.

"Keep very still," the man ordered.

The moon chose that moment to dive out from behind the clouds. The quarry was full of black clad men, at least six. Chance looked around for Benny Ray and saw him slumped between two men, unconscious.

"Unless you want what your friend got I suggest you hand over the knife and the crossbow. For emphasis the man turned his gun towards Benny Ray. His meaning was clear. Chance stood, dropped the knife and took the crossbow off his back. Putting his hands on his head he hoped Margo and the Major were safe.

Chapter 24 - The Journey down.

Margo made Matt put his arm round her shoulders. The journey down was much quicker. Matt, worryingly, said nothing. His breath came in ragged gasps. Margo kept a close watch on him, murmuring to him constantly as they followed the slope down and then found themselves back at the point where they had left the path of the railway line. Matt's footsteps faltered. Margo urged him on. It was starting to rain and she felt the need to get Matt to shelter as quickly as she could.

By the time they reached the shelter of the sheepfold the rain was heavier and Matt was using Margo to support almost his full weight. She was relieved to lower him to the ground. Taking out the water bottle she took a long drink herself first, then tried to get Matt to drink. Most of the water bubbled back as he failed to swallow properly. His heart rate was increased and she was seriously worried. Her recollection was that there were no poisonous snakes in Britain, well not fatally poisonous and Matt was not in anaphylactic shock, the symptoms of the bite had taken much too long to come on for that. Squatting down in front of Matt she poured some water on her sleeve and wiped the damp material over his face. He looked at her panting slightly.

"I'm okay, we can go on now," he managed to gasp.

"You're not okay, but I think we need to make a move. Do you remember the cottage with the lights on? If I can get you there, hopefully we can get you to a doctor."

"Let's go then," he said with determination.

Pulling him to his feet, the two continued their lonely trudge through the wet and the cold and the dark. Matt started talking. Margo thought he was trying to keep their concentration and leaned into listen to his words.

"Do you think the sheep need a shepherd, Margo? My sheep have gone and I don't know where they are. I've lost them all…like little Bo Peep," he laughed.

Margo stopped and turned his face to hers as the moon showed it self. "Matt?"

His face was shiny with sweat, but his colour was pallid and his cheeks drawn. She tried to hold him upright as she checked him over again. He was going into shock and was delirious. She wanted to pick up the pace, but wasn't sure Matt could and if he couldn't, whether she could move any quicker still supporting his weight. She got him walking again and urged him on as much as she could.

It seemed like a lifetime later that they made it to the cottage. The lights were still on and the yellow glow from nearly every window made it seem like a haven in the storm. The gate squeaked as they pushed through. The gap wasn't wide enough for two but Margo kept tight hold of Matt. They were so close to being safe. They struggled the last few steps to the cottage and Margo lifted her fist to pound on the door. She heard sounds from inside and within seconds the door was open. Warmth and light streamed out bathing her and Matt in its glow. She looked up to the Good Samaritan who had opened the door and gasped. "You!"

"Hello, Miss Vincent. It's so nice to see you again. Why don't you bring Major Sheppard inside and my medic can take a look at him?"

Chapter 25 - The Lion's Den

Benny Ray came to before they got to the stone cottage. As he'd slipped over the rim of the quarry he'd been jumped. A knee to the stomach had taken the breath from his lungs, as a blow to the base of the head had stunned him. As soon as his escort were aware he was awake, they made him walk unaided. Putting his hands on his now sore head he fell into step besides Chance.

"You okay?" The black man asked.

"Couldn't be better." He smiled, the same sort of smile a crocodile must have before it goes hunting, Chance thought.

Chance shook his head. No matter how bad the situation Benny Ray was prepared to go down fighting.

"Hold fire, brother Ray, I think we just made it into the Lion's Den. Let's hope he isn't hungry tonight."

One of the black clad men stepped forward and opened the door to the cottage. He stepped through first. Chance and Benny Ray were encouraged to follow him. The rest of the men stayed outside. As they entered the building they stepped into a small anteroom. With the three of them inside and the front door closed the room the room was crowded. The soldier opened another door. There were three doors in total off the small room and they were ushered through one of them. Entering another small room with bare walls and floor and only one window, they saw a woman with her back to them. She was bending over a man lying on some old sacks. As the door slammed behind them and a bolt was slid in place the woman turned to them, her tear stained face worried.

"Chance, Benny Ray! Oh thank God it's you."

Sherry ran to the two men throwing her arms round Benny Ray, who she reached first.

"Sherry, are you okay?"

Benny Ray wrapped his arms around the woman whose children he had been hugging just hours before. Chance went straight to CJ and hissed when he saw the damage done to his partner. The man was still breathing, but was unconscious and was in a bad way.

"The twins, did you find the twins?" She was desperate with worry and struggling to hold onto her composure.

"They're fine, they're safe and they're with Lizzie," Benny Ray reassured her.

She stifled a sob pressing her face into Benny Ray's chest. When she looked up her face was set.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Turning back to her husband she looked at Chance and squeezed his arm. "He's been like that since they brought him back a few hours ago. I can't wake him up, Chance."

Benny Ray left Chance and Sherry to see to CJ as he concentrated on the exit routes from the room. There were two, the door they had just been shown through and a window. The door was solid. No handles or locks on the inside and bolted from the other side. Not to mention the armed man outside. The window was barred; there were bars on the other side. He could smash the glass but that would just let the outside in and the room was inhospitable enough as it was.

"We aren't getting out of here in a hurry," he stated the obvious.

"Indeed, you are not."

Benny Ray whirled to face the door. The man who stood there was about the height as Benny Ray, but was thin, almost skeletal. He spoke in harsh clipped tones and a pencil thin moustache clung to his upper lip.

"None of you will be going anywhere until I get an answer as to how you knew to come here."

There was something about the man that immediately annoyed Benny Ray. He rarely judged anyone on first impressions, but this weasely Brit wearing the uniform of a Colonel sent alarm bells ringing in his head. He decided it was the eyes. The man didn't seem to blink and his eyes didn't seem to move. If he looked at you his eyes didn't wander at all, they stared intently at you. It reminded Benny Ray of an old rattler he and his brother Billy Joe had once cornered out back of the trailer park. The dammed thing had fixed its eyes on Billy Joe and had swayed there in front of him for ages. Young Benny Ray, scared like hell had run and got his Granddad's hunting rifle, which was almost as big as him and shot the snake's head off. When the two boys were brave enough to touch the remains the snake's eyes were still open.

The man now stared at Benny Ray and he wished fervently that he had his Granddad's rifle with him there; he would have had no hesitation in blowing off the man's head.

"You have killed one of my men and trespassed here in my world. I want to know why?" Cadwallader continued.

"It was such a nice night we thought, what the hell, let's go for a walk," Benny Ray retorted.

"Ah yes, American bravado. How amusing, but not of interest to me. Now perhaps you would be kind enough to come with me."

He indicated that they should leave the room. Benny Ray put his hand on Chance's shoulder. The black man stood up and they both left the room.

"You too, Mrs.Yates."

The thin British man pulled Sherry to her feet. His grip on her forearm was tight; his strength was belied by his appearance. Benny Ray stopped outside the door ready to intervene, but Sherry came quietly. They were shown into one of the other rooms. It was bigger and had a little more furniture, but it was still sparse. Benny Ray noted there were no bars at the windows. There were however four heavily armed men in the room. Benny Ray and Chance were made to stand against the farthest wall.

"If they offer us a blindfold, I say we start worrying," whispered Chance, trying to make light of the situation

Benny Ray was concentrating on Sherry. The scrawny guy still had hold of her and although he didn't seem to be hurting her Benny Ray wasn't happy with the way she was being manhandled. Cadwallader sat her down in a straight-backed wooden chair and stood behind her.

"Gentlemen, let me introduce myself. I am Sebastian Cadwallader of Her Majesty's Special Air Service Regiment."

"What a name," commented Chance. "Bet that was a hoot in the classroom."

"Gentlemen, I have very little time and less patience. Please tell me what I want to know."

Chance and Benny Ray said nothing.

"Very well, you leave me no option."

At his waist he wore an old-fashioned button down holster. Undoing the flap he took out a Ruger Blackhawk .45 Colt and pointed it at Sherry's head.

"Tell me or Mrs. Yates has five seconds to live."

Chapter 26 - The Good Guys?

Colonel David Shaw stepped forward and taking charge of Matt, helped him inside the cottage. Margo stood outside, her mouth open, astounded. She followed into the cottage hardly realizing what she was doing. Inside was a high tech control room. Lights flashed, computers hummed and screens glowed. Men and women sat at various stations some talking quietly, but intently into comm. Units, while others watched her or their own station. Matt was lowered onto a cot bed and a uniformed soldier moved forward to kneel at his side. He was very professional. Margo was torn between overseeing the medic and questioning David Shaw.

The last time she had seen the man he had been watching her depart on a specially organized flight from Heathrow to Newark. That had been in the middle of a kidnapping involving the Prime Minister's son. Margo had provided vital information to Shaw's SAS contingent and in return strings had been pulled to get her reunited with the team. He was deep in conversation with a civilian who looked slightly uncomfortable.

"I am sure you have many questions, Miss Vincent. I will do what I can to answer them."

Margo ran a hand through her windswept rain sodden hair.

"I don't know where to start," she said honestly.

Well then let me help," he smiled. "And introduce Patrick McGuire."

The civilian held out his hand and smiled shyly.

"The Patrick?"

Margo was even more confused. She sat down heavily and stared up at the two men. Her beautiful almond eyes narrowed and she stood up. She took a step towards Patrick.

"You miserable bastard! Do you know what you've done?"

She put her hands on her hips and looked like she wanted to tear Patrick limb from limb, one piece at a time, very slowly. Before he got a chance to reply she continued. "Yes of course you do."

Margo took a deep breath. She was enraged and disgusted.

"You've put innocent lives at risk, cause untold anguish just so you can get these guys to show their hand. I thought you were supposed to be the good guys!"

She fairly spat the last sentence out. Patrick hid his face. David Shaw shuffled his feet and at least looked ashamed.

"Miss Vincent, I am sorry you and your friends became embroiled in our little problem, but you really were in the right place at the right time as far as we were concerned and your Mr. Trout did say you could cope."

"Our Mr. Trout…cope!"

If Margo been angry before she was now incandescent with rage. Her fists balled. She didn't trust herself to talk. She turned to the two men and her eyes found Matt, pale and ill. Her fury condensed into cold ball in her stomach. She walked stiffly to where Matt lay.

"How is he?" She asked the medic.

"He'll be fine Ma'am. Adder bites are rarely fatal unless you are allergic to them. This is a nasty reaction, but nothing more. A few days bed rest and he'll be fine."

Margo was grateful for that, at least now she could concentrate her energies elsewhere. She turned back to the two men in the middle of the room, apparently missing the medic's "You're welcome Ma'am."

Her nostrils flared and she hoped that both men felt like they were something she had trodden on in the street and found on the bottom of her shoe.

"Sit!" She ordered them. "Tell me everything, now!"

The two men looked at each other. David Shaw shrugged and took up the glove that had been thrown down.

"When Mike was killed Patrick went underground. Unfortunately for him he was not aware that we had been watching him and Mike for sometime. We knew about their little operation and that their contact at the base was a low level supply Sergeant. We also knew the conspiracy went higher. We just didn't know how high. We picked up Patrick in Hereford and arrested the supply Sergeant. It was our hope that by removing the Sergeant from the chain the person who was really in charge would be forced into the open. We watched Patrick's house in Hereford and of course we came across you and your team. I recognized you immediately from the photographs that were taken, Miss Vincent."

David Shaw tried a smile thinking that maybe Margo was thawing as the story unfolded. Her glare wiped the smile from his face. He coughed and continued.

"Mr. Trout was contacted and agreed that you should be allowed to run with the baton, as it were. It was not until we spoke with Miss Pitt that we learned of the kidnapping of former Sergeant Yates and his wife. By then Mr. Riddle had eluded us and we thought it best to allow the situation to play itself out."

He stopped, unsure of what to say next.

"You're despicable," Margo stated.

"Patrick agreed to help us in return for a more lenient sentence. The ruse has worked. Colonel Cadwallader has made his move. Mr. Riddle and Mr. Walker are even now his prisoners. The Colonel is determined to find out how your team managed to track him down and with his attention elsewhere we can make our move with minimal loss of life."

"Benny Ray and Chance have been caught?"

Margo felt the world was spinning, going out of control. This son of a bitch was standing in front of her coldly explaining why nearly all the people she loved the most in the world were hurt or in danger. She wanted to kill him. An icy determination settled over her

"When are you going to make your move? I want to be there."

Shaw looked at his watch, "Unfortunately, Miss Vincent, that will not be possible. The move, as you put it, is being made now."

Chapter 27 - The Bad Guys!

The flash bangs broke both windows at the same time. Benny Ray and Chance hit the floor instinctively. Cadwallader had made it to three on his count. He and his men reacted immediately. Sherry sat there until Chance shouted at her to get down. Another set of flash bangs followed seconds later. With eyes watering and ears deafened, both men knew what was coming next. If they weren't careful the crossfire would be lethal. Benny Ray reckoned CJ would be alright, but Sherry was another matter. He also knew that trying to reach her would put him squarely in the firing line, but he had to try. Staying on his stomach he inched towards where he knew her to be. He hoped she wasn't on the move. He kept his hands open and well away from his body. If he was spotted through night vision goggles he hoped it was enough to keep him alive.

His head hit the table. He called Sherry's name. With sound-deadened ears he hoped he was just whispering and not shouting. He didn't know if she would hear him. His left hand touched skin and he risked opening his eyes. He could see nothing clearly. What little vision he had was clouded with tears, but he kept his hand on the body he had touched and moved forward. It felt like a woman's ankle. As his hand rose higher up the leg another hand clamped down over his. He was pretty sure it was Sherry's hand. The fingers grabbed hold of his hand and were suddenly torn away. Benny Ray looked up. Cadwallader had his own gun pressed into Sherry's side. He was using her as a shield as he staggered backwards. The room seemed to be full of black-clad men. How the hell could they tell who was who, thought Benny Ray.

The gunfire stopped. Four men holding weapons stood in a loose semi circle round Sherry and Cadwallader. There were four bodies on the floor. They seemed to be ignoring him and Chance. For each step Cadwallader took back the men moved forward. Cadwallader made it to the door. Benny Ray kept blinking his eyes to clear them. He thought he saw a figure appear behind Cadwallader and assumed the cavalry had got through the front door. They wouldn't risk shooting for fear of the bullet going straight through and hitting Sherry. Two arms appeared as though disembodied. In one swift deadly movement they took Cadwallader's head, twisted it and broke his neck. The body collapsed to the floor. Behind holding onto the doorframe was CJ. He looked down at the body,

"I told you if you touched my wife I'd kill you."

He wavered, but stood firm. Sherry embraced him for all she was worth. The four men secured their weapons and took off their balaclavas. One stepped forward.

"Mr. and Mrs. Yates, we have transport standing by."

He turned to Benny Ray and Chance. "If you would go with my colleague, Major Sheppard and Miss Vincent are waiting for you."

The room was quiet. Half of the people in the room were thoroughly confused. The same soldier spoke again.

"Ma'am, gentlemen, I must insist you come with us. We have a lot of clearing up to do."

The four friends allowed themselves to be led to two waiting helicopters. They passed more dead bodies outside.

Chapter 28 - The Christening

CJ stood propped on crutches. Sherry was next to him. She had stopped hovering a couple of days ago when the doctors had finally convinced her that her husband was alright. Chance held Andrew while Matt and Margo stood either side. The only reminder of Matt's encounter with British fauna was a large yellow stain like bruise over his arm, the legacy of the anti blood clotting qualities of the adder's venom. Sherry's brother Steve held Katie. Either side of him stood Benny Ray and Nicole. She was CJ's sister-in-law; Danny's widow and she had turned up an hour before the service and had to dash off as soon as the photographs were taken.

When Nicole and Lizzie had come face to face you could almost see the sparks fly and the claws come out. Diplomatically Benny Ray had guided Lizzie away, leaving Nicole with CJ's parents. Both sets of parents stood at either end of the row. The photographer wanted just one group shot to finish, and then he was off to a local VIP jamboree at a nearby hotel. Lizzie watched from behind the photographer. She couldn't say why she disliked Nicole on sight and had made Benny Ray promise to tell her about the mysterious woman. Looking at the entourage, Lizzie smiled. Margo had got her hat. It was large and colourful and Lizzie wouldn't have been seen dead in it. Margo was a determined and dedicated shopper and the two women had become firm friends over the last couple of days.

Benny Ray and Sherry had come back to her parent's house eventually with Benny Ray ringing beforehand to reassure her that all was well. Sherry had cried when the twins had come to the door to greet her. Lizzie had held back on the tears somehow, but didn't leave Benny Ray's side all day and had made sure he shared her bed that night. Chance and Margo had gone with Matt and CJ to the hospital. Matt had been released the next day, but CJ was detained until the day before the Christening.

When Matt and Margo got to the house a council of war had sat around the dining room table as Margo told them of her conversation with David Shaw. Lizzie had said nothing, furiously indignant on behalf of her friends and embarrassed at what her countrymen had done. Matt had phoned Trout on the cell phone and a terrible argument had ensued. Lizzie was glad she had escaped to the kitchen to make tea. By the time she came back with a tray of mugs and biscuits the tension in the room had gone up a notch. Benny Ray looked different when he was like this, another person, one she hardly knew.

The doorbell made her jump. She quickly put the tray down on the table and went to the door. A soldier stood there. He removed his cap and introduced himself.

"I really don't think it would be a good idea for you to come in," she had said quietly.

"I'll take my chances, Miss Pitt," he'd replied.

Lizzie had heard a collective intake of breath when David Shaw walked into the dining room. No one held out their hand to him. Benny Ray, Sherry and Matt were on their feet bristling.

"I thought you might like to know that the Director of Public Prosecutions has decided not to prosecute Mr. Yates over the death of Colonel Cadwallader, nor Mr. Riddle or Mr. Walker over the death of Corporal Young. As far as the press will be told all the men who died will have perished in a terrible training accident. The PM feels that there is no need to sully the reputation of the Regiment. A few bad apples don't ruin the barrel.

"And Patrick?" Asked Sherry.

"He will be dishonourably discharged and prosecuted for firearms offences. After pleading guilty he will serve eighteen months or so in an open prison. Then he will leave the country quietly. I suspect he will not return for some years. So, all's well that ends well."

"Patrick had better make sure that CJ never catches up with him," said Matt with feeling.

"Quite," agreed Shaw. "Well then, I shall be off. Good day."

"Just one minute."

It was Sherry. She had worked herself into a real tizzy and crossed the distance between her and Shaw in a couple of strides.

"How dare you allow that madman to attack my family? My husband was almost killed, my children were left abandoned in a car in a strange land and you stand there so smug and self righteous."

She was close to tears. Suddenly she lashed out. Her right fist caught Shaw on the chin and the Colonel of the SAS, in a very undignified way, ended up on his backside on the floor. Margo laughed. Benny Ray smiled wickedly and Matt held onto Sherry in case she went in for a killer blow. Shaw stood up and dusted himself off.

"I'll let myself out shall I?"

He did not look back at the five people gathered together in a common dislike of him. They later found out that Sherry's had not been the only fists flying that day. Patrick had turned up at CJ's bedside in an effort to explain. CJ had been restrained by two nurses and had put back his recovery by twenty-four hours. Patrick had run from the room, blood streaming.

The photographer had finally finished. Lizzie slipped in quickly to reclaim her man before 'that woman' could intervene. Benny Ray put his arm around Lizzie's waist and smiled at her. Nicole soon went and Lizzie relaxed.

There hadn't been enough room at Siobhan and Fred's for them all to stay there. Matt, Margo, Chance and Sherry's family had booked into a local guesthouse. Lizzie had taken Benny Ray back to her untidy flat. He had been a gentleman about the mess. Lizzie sat at the head of her bed. He lay, head in her lap, eyes half closed. They were both naked.

"Home tomorrow?" She asked, but it wasn't really a question.

He hadn't asked her to go with him and for that she was grateful. If he had she would have had to say no. She was glad she didn't have to say no to him.

"Call me?" He asked.

"Of course," she smiled.

There was silence for a while.

"Penny for them?" She asked quietly.

He opened his eyes and looked at her. She twisted her neck to try and see him the right way round. He smiled that soul-melting smile and reached out to her.

"Come here and I'll show you what I was thinking about."

"What again?" She replied wickedly and chuckled as he touched her heart.

Finis