She must not be very smart. – Meg’s impression of Nessa Santiago

I could put no trust in it, and build no hope on it; and yet I went on against trust and against hope. – Charles Dickens

For a moment, no one spoke, though Jase doubted that either fully comprehended the significance of this revelation. Finally, Nessa broke the silence.

“Why is that bad?” she ventured.

“Mont Saint Michel is a medieval abbey situated about a kilometer off shore out over the channel. Though it's large enough to provide a plethora of hiding places, it's architecture makes for cramped, confining spaces, and dead ends abound. If Briel found herself trapped in one of those places, she would have little recourse for escape. Plus, Liam could use the convoluted structure for his own purposes, as well.”

Again, silence enveloped the cocoon inside the car, and Jase knew that all of them were pondering the alarming possibilities. His blood boiled at the thought that they might travel so far, arrive when she lived, and find her only after she had perished. If such an event occurred, Liam would die before he left the abbey; Jase would ensure that.

The miles passed quickly, and when the trio arrived on the other side of the causeway, they used the laptop as a GPS to track Briel's movements. Now that they stood closer to her relative position, they could more easily track her movements in detail. Even as they climbed the mile of pathways to the massive building at the pinnacle of the mountain, Jase hated to imagine the scene at the top.

Briel's signal had stopped in what Jase knew to be a courtyard, a grassy flower garden surrounded by a pillared colonnade. During better circumstances, the courtyard held nothing but beauty. In his current circumstance, however, the idea of the shady colonnade rose sinisterly before his eyes. He could imagine Briel, battered and beaten, lying in the confused shadows of the narrow columns. Summoning his determination, Jase suppressed the image. When had he grown so attached to Briel as to care?

“It looks like she went this way,” Nessa commented, and the three of them veered into a narrow corridor which led into the vast chapel. Jase knew the sanctuary well with its soaring arches and high windows. The sun now streamed in shallowly, illuminating only the uppermost portion of the stone walls. A few linen-clad forms meandered silently around the columns.

Familiar with the layout, Jase rushed rapidly toward the portico that lay on the other side of the door. Briel had moved out of the colonnade and now stood on a large, stone terrace. Jase could imagine many scenarios in the courtyard that would bode ill for his friend. At least the terrace was broad and open; Liam could not hope to conceal himself. Unfortunately, he might not have some complicated plan to deal with Briel. The courtyard provided a simple, speedy opportunity for trouble. Surrounding the courtyard lay a low stone ledge, a barrier that would protect only the smallest of children from falling the hundred feet to the pathways below. If Liam chose that path...

Jase could imagine the view of the expansive sea that stretched out magnificently from the island abbey, and he knew the invigoration that stirred with the ocean breeze. In her state, Briel would notice neither of these.

When he stepped through the door and saw the scene before him, almost everything he had envisioned stood in still life before him. Briel could hardly stand. Almost thirty yards away from Jase, Liam stood with his back to the terrace entrance. Just beyond him, a resigned-looking Briel gazed up into his face, a hopelessness apparent on her visage. She stumbled weakly backwards, now only inches from the ledge. Jase wanted to tear across the courtyard and rip Liam's arms out of their sockets, but he knew that if he tried, Liam might have time to attack Briel. One of Briel's arms hung bent at a slightly odd angle. Though he had little time to assess, Jase could easily take in the trickles of blood that spilled from several abrasions on her face. He could see the fresh bruises that had risen rapidly on her cheeks and one eye; Jase felt blind with fury.

Rallying himself, he crept stealthily onto the stony ground and took stock of his surroundings. For one instant, he locked eyes with Briel before she closed them in exhaustion. Poor girl. An unexpected spring of compassion bubbled up inside Jase as he realized that Liam planned to kiss her. Liam was as foul as Bill Henry; he just didn't possess the intelligence to practice his vulgarity on a grand scale. Reaching his hand behind him, Jase signaled the others to wait, then he rushed as silently as he could manage across the stones, rearing up just as Liam's lips touched Briel's. The man was as foul as any violating Briel even farther after all he had obviously done to her. Jase's fist smashed into Liam's jaw, and a satisfying crunch resulted.

Jase had aimed true, but the ricochet from his punch caused more damage than the punch had good. It blasted Briel backwards a step before she recovered. Rather than waiting to assess Briel's condition, Jase began a rapid pummeling of her assailant. Though Jase expected Liam to attack in self-defense, the white-haired op just kicked at Jase with all his might directly at Jase’s gut, sending Jase out of reach of where Liam and Briel stood near the ledge. With maniacal focus, Liam fell back a few steps and redirected his attention at his captive. Before Jase could adjust, he heard a strangled cry from Nessa. “Jase! Stop him!” When he had recovered, Jase gaped in horror as Liam shoved Briel over the stony ledge. The ensuing seconds passed frame by frame in amplified agony. Jase had failed.

Though his heart pounded furiously, Jase had no time to mourn the terror that he had just witnessed because Liam turned immediately upon him and began a relentless assault. Nessa flew by the brawling pair, and then Jase intensified his assault against Liam, knowing he fought for Nessa's safety instead of Briel's. He couldn't watch, but he heard a cry of some sort escape Nessa's lips, and Nick ambled past the battling pair to gaze over the ledge.

“Hang on, Briel!” Jase heard, and he felt a new surge of power that swelled with his relief at the words. Somehow, Briel lived.

Jase didn't wait to watch the resolution of the situation, but laid a fresh round of kicks into his fight with the surprisingly agile Liam. Rarely in his fifteen years of fighting had Jase faced such an opponent. Of course, he felt certain that Liam had never encountered his equal, so Jase suffered no shock when, after landing a wicked punch, Liam turned tail and sprinted from the terrace. Like most bullies, Liam didn't like a fair fight.

In immediate pursuit, Jase flew from the terrace into the pillared courtyard he had passed through before. Liam had cut across the grass and, as Jase watched, ducked into a low doorway on the other side. Though he followed closely, Jase could tell little of the fleeing man's direction since footsteps echoed infinitely off the multifaceted walls.

After five minutes, Jase slowed, determined to uncover the direction of Liam's flight before plowing mindlessly in the wrong direction.

“She's alive.”

Jase stopped dead in his tracks when he heard the hushed words. A pause followed the phrase before the hissed reply came.

“You were supposed to keep them from coming here, so I don't want to hear any of your crap. Just set something up so I can get out of the country before they set the police on me.”

Would ProtoComm really expend the resources to rescue someone like Liam? They had never bothered saving Jase, trusting him to extract himself from any dilemma. Surely, they didn't value Liam so highly.

After a silence, Liam spoke again.

“What do you care?” Liam said, and Jase crept closer to what he hoped proved the source of the voice. “Well, eventually I'll have to silence her. Besides, it'll punish him, too, and I'm pissed at him right now.”

Finally, Jase approached the final corner next to his target destination. A dim light cast its glow into the small niche that led to a larger hallway, but the light shone in the wrong direction to cast a shadow for Jase's benefit. On his own path, Jase could see little besides the angular patches of inky black squares that chopped the walls and floor into a surreal patchwork.

“I don't have time for this,” Liam continued. “I'll call you when I'm all clear.”

Holding his breath for silence's sake, Jase rounded the corner into a cramped alcove where he expected to encounter Liam, but instead of feeling the rush of victory, Jase's heart dropped. The echoes had deceived him, and Jase heard with bitterness the beginning of a rapid footfall leading further away and growing steadily softer. Though he sprinted the rest of the way through the abbey and down the ever-winding, cobbled street, Jase glimpsed Liam only once before the white-haired criminal raised himself up a series of parapets and onto a stone-chiseled building. He disappeared down a covert path on its roof. By the time Jase reached the apex, he saw no sign of Liam.

A half hour later, Jase had to forget his disappointment. Limping across the parking lot came a haggard form, and Jase peered with relief into the battered but living face of Briel Cortes. Rarely in his life had he felt more gratified to see a human being.

His relief supplied him some much-needed levity. “You look better,” he quipped.

“I am. Thanks,” Briel agreed, smiling weakly.

“I've been monitoring the exit for over thirty minutes now, ever since I lost Liam, but he hasn't left through the main entrance.” He glared at the side of the mountain, irritated at the new information that his friends had carried with them. Up until he saw them, Jase had assumed that the only entrance lay through the main roadway. He now realized the naivete of such an assumption. Nick, Briel, and Nessa had descended down a staircase that emanated directly from the side of the mountain. How many of those egresses existed? “Of course, I hadn't seen the other exits, so Liam could have managed to slip past me. I can stay and look for him,” he offered Briel. “I'll stay as long as I need.”

“No, Jase. Let's go,” Briel answered immediately. “All of us. If Liam has escaped, I want everyone around me when he comes. No more of that Lone Ranger crap.” As if in appreciation, she flashed Jase a genuine smile. He smiled back in acceptance; he certainly understood her not wanting to be alone. Though he ground his teeth at the vexation of losing Liam, he turned back with the others and made his way to the waiting car.

Apparently, Nick had used some computer trick to trade the sports car for a roomy van, and the crew stumble to their vessel with mixed emotions. They maneuvered down the street to a doctor's office, and Jase left Briel with Nick while he and Nessa entered. Because Liam had broken Briel's arm, she needed a splint as quickly as possible. For several interminable minutes, Jase waited with Nessa for the receptionist to call Briel's name.

Unfortunately, the time allowed Jase to mull over the dissatisfaction of the day's events. Though he felt gratified at their successful rescue of Briel, he couldn't feel content to leave things as they now lay. Jase couldn't get the two names out of his mind: ProtoComm and Bill Henry. Up until a few days ago, Jase had worked for both of them. Jase had closed his eyes to situations very similar to the one with Briel. Within a moment, Jase had undergone a revolution of conscience, in Jack’s home, and he had decided to oppose his erstwhile employer - somehow had the arrogance to think that he could bring Bill down completely.

Jase tried to think about his new plans, to consider why he had changed, what he intended for his future, exactly how he would enact his new resolution. Instead, though, Jase's mind kept replaying the question that had weighed on him since the abbey. Whom had Liam spoken to in the whispered phone conversation? You were supposed to keep them from coming here? Apparently, someone had received the assignment to keep Jase away from Briel. Who, though? Amélie? Perry? Or someone unexpected?

As Jase mulled over the questions, the tiny, white waiting room at the doctor's office melted into obscurity. He abruptly felt the shock of awareness when he saw a beautiful woman stride up to the counter and address the receptionist in a low voice. Despite his distraction, he felt a spark of interest as he took in the fluent tone of Nessa's lilting French.

“How much longer?” she queried. “My friend is in a lot of pain.”

“Seul une plus personne,” the woman replied, and Nessa turned back to grab Jase by the arm. “Let's go get Briel. She's next.” Nessa whispered.

For one moment, Jase relished the sensation of her fingers on his arm, even through his thin sleeves. She again drew him up in her innocent allure, and he followed her, dream-like, out of the office and into the street. As he stepped down onto the sidewalk, the illusion shattered with the sound of glass as it spattered against the concrete of the road.

Nessa rushed out ahead of Jase, and before he could react, she had streaked across the intervening space toward the van. The next few seconds unfolded in a relentlessly dilated fashion. As he followed Nessa's path, his eyes fell on Liam, looking slightly battered and dirty from his earlier battles. He stood only a few yards from the door, knees hunched in a readied stance. Apparently, Liam had followed them. He stood facing the busted window of the van Jase had rented, and Jase's mind instantly switched on, poised to finish the job he had earlier begun. Now, Liam Monroe would die.

Instead of moving, though, Jase watched in frozen shock as Nessa suddenly darted toward Liam, undaunted by the violent expression on the man's face. She couldn't know the danger into which she rushed; she hadn't watched Liam in action, obsessed as she had been with rescuing Briel. Even as Nessa charged Liam, Jase could detect her miscalculation. Liam deftly sidestepped the kick she aimed at his face, plucking her forcefully from the air, and wrapped his arm around her neck. Jase couldn't breathe.

“She may be as pretty as the last whore you fell in love with, Jase,” Liam battered at Jase as soon as the jeering criminal had a firm grip on the beautiful brunette. Never had Jase longed to cause someone as much pain as he now wished upon Liam - and Jase knew limitless methods for causing pain. “Briel wouldn't let me torture the last one, but I don't answer to her anymore, so...”

Jase gritted his teeth as Liam's fingers closed expertly over the tendon in Nessa's neck. As the color drained from her face, Jase could see Nessa's struggle to remain silent, and he cringed at the agony apparent on her countenance. In his cruel desire for control, Liam vented his venom on the nearest victim.

Forcing himself to maintain measured breaths, Jase adopted a casual mien. “Main difference, Liam. I fell in love with that one. You can do what you want with this one,” he bluffed. “But if you start interfering with my work, I'll kill you. I have Briel now, and if I have read the situation correctly, Bill will pay a pretty penny to whoever hands her over to him.” Jase worked to infuse his tone with supercilious irritation, not the desperate fear that he felt for Nessa. “Just because I happen to be with some Team members does not mean that I am bound by the same ridiculous ethics that the Team is bound by.”

For one second, Jase thought that Liam had relaxed. Hopefully, Liam wouldn't consider how disadvantageous revealing his plan in front of Nessa would be for Jase. When Liam lowered one of his hands, therefore, Jase breathed a relieved sigh.

His relief proved short-lived, however. A moment later, he watched in horror as Liam reached for his belt. If Liam had believed Jase, he would have released Nessa by now. Fortunately, Nessa was savvy enough to take advantage of Liam's distraction. She threw her head backwards into her captor's nose and rammed her elbow into his breastbone. Though the newly-coined criminal staggered slightly, he managed to reach his belt, and Nessa barely averted the large knife that he wrenched toward her.

The muffled zing of a silenced gun whipped through the air, and for one moment, Jase feared for Nessa's well-being. Where had the shot come from? Had Liam managed to bring backup?

Then, to Jase's relief, a gleam of silver glanced off of the knife as it spun through the air and out of Liam's reach. When Jase looked back in the direction of the shot, a column of smoke rose from a gun in Nick Alexander's hand. Though shocked, Jase didn't take time to feel his pleasure, but took off after their attacker. For three blocks, Jase dodged pedestrians and hurdled obstacles in an attempt to catch Liam. Jase finally lost his prey when Liam entered a waiting vehicle.

Pausing where he stood, Jase took several seconds to catch his breath and suppress his indignation. The running had not strained his lungs, rather, they had constricted as he watched the flash of the knife wing so close to Nessa's face. He closed his eyes, raising them to the sky in silent gratitude.

After traversing the distance back to his friends, he suppressed his desire to obsess over Nessa's well-being, insisting instead on continuing with Briel's care so they could commence the journey home. He wanted nothing more than to chastise Nessa for her carelessness, to scour her skin for injury, to force a promise from her to be more careful in the future. He controlled his impulses.

Once the doctor set Briel's arm and the group turned toward Rennes, Jase's relief faded behind some undefined worries. As the group began its drive, the whispered conversation at the Abbaye rose back into his mind.

I'll have to silence her, Liam had said. The most logical choice would be Briel, but he had come to France with intention of capturing Briel. Why mention something his listener already knew? More likely, Liam had meant someone else. Amélie? Perhaps, but why take the time to make a phone call while fleeing from pursuit? Liam would have no reason to bother Nessa, but who else could he mean? Maybe someone completely unrelated, though it seemed even less likely that Liam would carry on such an unnecessary conversation while in an unsecured position.

...it'll punish him, too, Liam had said, and I'm pissed at him right now.

The scene at Liam's apartment suddenly replayed itself in Jase's mind, the absolute bitterness with which Liam had stared at Nessa when she pressed past him to embrace Briel. Certainly, Liam had read Jase’s body language clearly in that doorway. Jase was more than willing to challenge Liam, and Liam hated him for it. And now that Liam had left the straight and narrow, he would target anyone who got in his way.

A month before, Jase would have shrugged his shoulders and walked away from so much drama, from someone else’s problem. If circumstances had forced him to choose between protecting his own skin and saving someone else, he would have chosen his own skin, no contest. Now, though, Jase found himself willing to lay down his arms and surrender if his actions would protect the people he had grown to care about. He felt like his new, alien conscience might cost him dearly, and that maybe his lack of perspective would make him incapable of protecting anyone, especially himself. With his run-in with Liam, Jase's insecurity had materialized before his eyes. He had actually almost choked in the face of battle.

After several minutes, Jase grew aware of Nessa's gaze on his face. He had lost sight of the trio accompanying him as he pondered the stress of the preceding couple of hours. Had Nessa asked him a question? Was she waiting for an answer? His mind had wandered so far that he felt at a loss when he looked back toward her. Still, he couldn't discipline his mind to remember.

All he could see when he caught her gaze was the knife so close to Nessa's angelic face; the misleading exchange between Liam and himself. I fell in love with that one, Jase had said. You can do what you want with this one... Peering into the profound warmth of her eyes, now trained on him, the words seemed horrendously cold and easily misconstrued.

“You know, Nessa...” he couldn't look at her for long, and in a way, he didn't want to. Would he see accusation behind her eyes? Mistrust?

“I do know,” she interrupted as if she could read his mind. “Don't worry about it. It didn't come to that.” He watched from his peripheral vision as she shrugged.

“But if it had,” Jase insisted. “I would have interfered.” He willed the words to be true; he wanted her to believe it. For the first time he could remember, he actually thought he meant it. Jase would have done anything to protect Nessa.

Even as he thought the words, his head hurt with irritation at himself. Was he really turning into an idealistic fool? Never had he sacrificed the practical utility of self-serving principle. Now, suddenly, he had decided to throw it all away? To take on Bill? To lose everything that he had worked for during the last almost two decades?

He could explain away Felicity as a whim, a break from the usual boredom. Maybe his attempt to help Briel was self-serving, a way to cement his place on the Team. Nessa, though, seemed to have felled some sort of fatal blow. The only excuse he could give for needing to help her placed way more importance on her than his individualistic mind could allow.

“I never doubted you, Jase.”

Nessa made her assertion calmly as if the passing of his thoughts had required no time. When she reached to place her hand on his leg in a comforting gesture, Jase couldn't maintain his usual disinterest. Instead, he could think of nothing but how completely he wanted to deserve her trust. Somehow, even knowing his reputation, even having questioned his motives toward her, regardless of the less than complimentary aspects of his character that she had encountered, when Nessa's life had depended on Jase, she hadn't doubted him.

If she had intended the words as comfort, as she no doubt had, her intentions had failed. The words elicited more pain and exasperation, not a release of his mental burden. What business did she have saying she didn't doubt him? Fool, he chastised her silently. Riveting his eyes to the road before him, Jase stared into the flaming clouds of the approaching evening. Let her live in a delusion if she wished; he couldn't afford to make that mistake again.