…the rest of us can only run away from time to time, and however much we pretend to be free, we know it is only for a little while - our hands and our feet are tied. - Daphne du Maurier

I have to get ahead of this. One thing I always am is controlled, and here I am courting chaos to protect my friend? To indulge my curiosity? To engage Liam? Whatever comes out of this, I deserve it for my recklessness. I just pray that I live to regret it, as long as I am free, anyway. – Voice memo on Briel’s phone, May 12

“Just give me a second,” Briel begged, turning from Jase and Nessa. They had stopped by Nessa's apartment on the way to Briel's, and now Nessa's clothes hung loosely about Briel's petite frame. Outside the burnt-out ruins, Briel trekked to where her car rested among the rubble. “Would you mind keeping them occupied for a minute? I may need to remove evidence.”

“Of course,” Nessa returned immediately. She led Jase by the arm toward the sergeant who stood on the front lawn of Briel's apartment overseeing the investigation. Nessa's muted question elicited an “attempted murder” from the sergeant. Briel shuddered. She should contact Sara, at least.

Even with all Briel's experience, the sight of her own house charred and collapsed sent a shiver through her, and an uninvited moroseness settled on her. She trudged to what had been her garage, stepping gingerly around the scattered black embers that had burned out overnight. Though a few planks of wood towered over the garage, the entire upper floor of her home seemed devoured by the fire. The Southwest Texas sun beat down upon her so that the heat swelled from both beneath her feet and above her head. It felt like the fire still raged.

Her Saab sat, a ruin of her unsatisfactory existence, amid the tumble-down walls of her garage. Though the walls had no real support, they did not seem in danger of collapse yet. She forced herself past the ravaged remnants of the last seven years of her life and opened the door to her car. Despite her several moves between cities, she had retained much of her material possessions until now. Of course, the mementos of her past would prove the most difficult to lose, but Briel had rejected most of those reminders anyway, relegating them to boxes high on a shelf.

Except for some smoke damage, the vehicle appeared largely intact, maybe even drivable. Digging under the passenger seat, Briel removed a small knitted purse and, opening it, dug through its contents.

Lipstick, a small wallet with her ID and two credit cards, and a passport, all in perfect condition. Briel sighed in relief. If she didn't have to replace her ID, finding a new place to live would prove much easier. She didn't relish the idea of sleeping on Nessa's couch for long.

Moving to the trunk of the car, Briel opened it and grabbed a backpack that rested alone in the back corner. It felt warm. She hoped that the heat hadn't roared too intensely inside the garage for her to salvage the laptop inside the backpack.

Rising, Briel marched off of the foundation of the garage, catching Nessa's eye and nodding to her. After spanning the distance to Jase's car, Briel watched Nessa shake hands with the sergeant and call to Jase, who sat crouched next to an officer gathering evidence. He rose and approached Nessa and the sergeant.

“Thanks,” Briel heard Jase say. “We'll let you know if we find anything.”

He crossed the lawn as Briel and Nessa let themselves into the car. Opening his door, Jase turned to look at Briel. “What's going on?” he demanded, and Briel didn't like the authoritative tone of his voice.

“What do you mean?” Briel feigned a lack of understanding.

“Someone shorted out your sprinkler and alarm systems,” Jase informed her. “Very professionally done. It looked like something we might do if we had a reason.”

Briel tried to keep her eyes from glancing toward Nessa. How much had she told him about Mexico City? Did he know Briel's suspicions about her teammates?

“You said it yourself. Someone is out to get me. I'm responsible for the imprisonment of several dozen highly-trained criminals. Any one of them could have done this.” Catching his gaze in the rearview mirror, she icily asserted, “There are lots of people who have reasons to hate me.”

As his gaze locked on hers in the rearview mirror, Jase's eyes lifted in amusement. He had definitely understood her insinuation. Whether because he was truly culpable or because he wanted to spare Nessa the confrontation, Jase said nothing about the silent communication that had passed between himself and Briel. For the next few minutes, quiet enveloped the car.

“Fasten your seatbelts,” Jase commanded somewhat spontaneously.

After making their way from Briel's apartment, the trio had traversed several blocks and had just entered the highway. Surprised, Briel glanced up and watched in shock as a vehicle barreled straight toward them from the opposite side of the road. Loop 1604 had just narrowed from a six-lane superhighway to a four-lane undivided road, and no median separated them from the oncoming vehicle. She and Nessa both had already buckled their restraints, but Briel unconsciously gripped the doorframe and the seat next to her. With an unforecast motion, Jase swerved from the left lane, across two lanes of traffic, and onto an exit ramp. Even so, the darkly tinted SUV managed to swipe the back left of Jase's car, only a couple of feet behind Briel's seat. Any closer, and the SUV might have crushed Briel's door.

The Astin Martin careened precariously for one moment, but Jase righted the vehicle and successfully maneuvered the ramp. Behind him, the SUV swung in a wide circle and headed back toward them.

“What's going on?” Nessa demanded.

“Seems to me someone is upset that the fire didn't finish Briel,” he responded immediately. “Watch for Bandera. Our pursuer will have more trouble maneuvering there.”

“How can you be sure he's after me?” Briel questioned, annoyed by the confidence of his pronouncement.

In response, he narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you purposely being dense, Briel? Or are you just unwilling to admit that you're in trouble?”

“Maybe it’s someone trying to rescue me…” Before Briel could say more, the car jerked suddenly to the right, throwing her against the door and knocking the breath out of her. Briel looked up just in time to see Jase narrowly avoid a slow-moving vehicle that had swerved onto the access road in front of them.

Pointing to the floor under Nessa's feet, Jase commanded, “Grab the disruptor just in case he's got a tracker.”

“Done,” Nessa announced, holding up a black cube the size of a box of crayons. “But from his range, he doesn't need electronic means to track us.”

Their pursuer stayed so close that even when Briel could peel her eyes off of him, she could still see the grey streak of its fender in her peripheral vision. She hated those tinted windows, the fact that she could not see the face of the person who wanted to kill her. Or just sell me into slavery, she corrected sardonically. She had accused Jase, covering her bases so he knew she was on her guard, but she didn’t really believe he was a threat. The realization actually released a breath she had been holding, and she let herself concentrate on her surroundings – and the people around her.

Of course, Briel held some fear for herself, but she had trained herself not to feel it, for herself. Unfortunately, when she had let herself grow attached to Nessa, Briel had added a new agitation to her consideration, a foreign sensation since the possibility had never before existed. Even if Briel held no qualms about ignoring the danger to herself, she couldn't escape the memory of the gunmen in Mexico. What if they had shot Nessa? Would Briel have saved herself and left her friend for dead? No. So, at some point, Briel had begun to care about her friend. If Briel ignored the danger now, she would once again risk the life of her friend.

Stupid, she chastised herself. If the three of them survived the car chase, Briel had to leave, get as far away from Nessa as possible. She must put enough distance between them that whatever demons pursued Briel didn't inadvertently cause harm to those she cared about. Her subconscious began to plan even as her mind focused on the decreasing distance between Jase's car and the SUV.

In order to free Nessa from danger, Briel needed to leave the team entirely. Not only the team, but she probably needed to leave San Antonio. If she left, though, she also lost her best access to finding her attacker. Not that Jack Buckley had hung around San Antonio, but someone had contacted him to offer Briel as collateral, and that someone likely had personal contact with her. Though Briel had searched the scenes of the crimes for any clues, she repeatedly came up empty. Without a forensics team to support her, she had little recourse for finding the kind of evidence that would clearly incriminate someone. She had no “headquarters” where she could finagle help from a lab tech. Instead, Sara deployed forensics teams the same way she deployed a tactical team, and the two rarely met.

Maybe, though, Briel could approach the problem from the opposite end. If she couldn't pinpoint the perpetrator who had turned her over to Jack, perhaps she could trace Jack's records to find out his contact. A week before, Briel would not have pursued the ProtoComm line, but with Jack still in the employ of Bill Henry, the identity of her attacker came back to ProtoComm, even if he wasn't technically a ProtoComm employee. Since Jack knew whom he had hired, Briel needed to find Jack.

“Over there!” Nessa interrupted Briel's ponderings, and Jase swerved violently to the right. Just as furiously, he swung back left, barely clearing the median that separated them from the pursuing vehicle. Briel spun to watch the maneuverings of the SUV. In response to Jase's turn, the truck tried to turn as quickly around the curb, but had to slow when its two left wheels left the pavement. Instead, the driver jerked up onto the median and drove directly across it, cutting off several yards of distance.

Still, the resulting gap between the cars allowed Jase to steer onto a narrow, curving road on the other side of the highway before the SUV made it under the underpass. After a series of rapid turns, he flew precariously down an overshadowed road. Despite his excellent driving, Briel cringed every time they neared an intersection. Finally, Jase swung the car onto a narrow street to their left and pulled to the side in the pool of shade cast by several dense trees.

“We should be safe for a few minutes,” Jase asserted. “He might have figured out the first road, but we made too many subsequent turns for him to ferret out our location. We need to regroup.”

“Do you want to head back to my place?” Nessa offered. “I doubt we're in any imminent danger that would require us to stay on the road.”

“Just in case, no, I don't want to go to your place. I don't want anyone following us there and turning you into a target.”

Jase seemed to have read Briel's mind.

“Since Briel no longer has a 'place,' we can just go to my apartment. I have decent security for an apartment complex, plus I have added some measures of my own to ensure total privacy.” Despite her misgivings about trapping herself in his apartment, Briel felt reassured at the thought of his “high-security” apartment. Briel knew that nothing provided total security, but she at least liked to see her enemy coming. If Jase's apartment had the type of security Briel imagined, she could manage a decent regroup there.

“Let's make it sooner rather than later,” Briel urged. “Only a few roads lead east from the loop in this part of town. If he decided to peruse them, he might happen upon this one.”

“Surely, he wouldn't do that. This attack definitely relied on surprise, and that is pretty much destroyed.” Nessa's entire demeanor oozed her attempt to comfort Briel.

“You're right, Nessa,” Jase agreed. “But I agree with Briel, too. I don't want to stick around. Even though this seems like the work of a lone agent, we would be better served in a more protected environment, just in case.”

“Do you have ideas beyond heading back to your place?” Briel wondered. She hoped that Jase would volunteer his protection. Not that Briel wanted protection for herself, but if Jase involved himself, Briel knew he would include Nessa under his umbrella of support.

“A few,” he said calmly. Checking over his shoulder, he eased back onto the road and headed north to circle around to his apartment. “But there's no rush. Nessa, reach into the glovebox and grab Briel my burner phone. We will be better served to stay calm and think rationally.”

Already done, Briel insisted silently as she accepted the device. She did not need extended time to decide the right course of action, at least, her first course of action. Get away. Find Jack. Come back and beat the crap out of the teammate who was willing to turn against one of his own. She would do so as soon as she feasibly could, but she knew that Nessa and Jase would never let her go alone. Unfortunately, if she planned to investigate Bill Henry and his company. those she might encounter this time would prove much more daunting than the thugs she had shed in the Mexican prison. With that thought, she unlocked the phone and found the message app, logging in to her account and tapping a message in to Ted. Maybe she was crazy, but she was not quite ready to place her security into any one setting. Holding Ted out as an alternative gave her an outlet in case Jase proved a problem. After all, Ted had helped her in Mexico.

After a few minutes driving north, Jase turned his car into the gravel drive of a rustic yet elegant mid-rise building. Though missing the curved roof and peaks, the smooth lines, layers, and contours of Jase's apartment reminded Briel of Japanese architecture. Leave it to Jase to find an apartment like this, Briel mused sardonically. Not that she could have afforded it if she had found it. Even from the outside, the place looked luxurious. Must be another perk.

Nessa reached into her back pocket and pulled out a security card, swiping it once across the electronic reader to let them into the building. Even with all of her worry, Briel couldn't help smirking at Jase. Why did Nessa still have a card to enter his apartment? Briel knew how she had gotten it, days before on one of their evenings of discussion.

In typical fashion, Nessa seemed completely unaware of any implications which having his card would have engendered. Jase, on the other hand smugly shrugged his shoulders in full recognition of the insinuation.

With unrehearsed caution, the three all refrained from speech until they had traversed the parking garage, passed through the foyer, and traveled down the corridor to Jase's place. For some reason, Briel felt no surprise when, upon entering, the room spoke sparse elegance: minimal furniture, muted colors, and sleek lines.

“This is nice,” she admitted. Briel had never proved able to accomplish such understated grace in her home. Like Briel's mind, too much old-fashioned ornament cluttered the smooth modern quality that she longed to reflect in her living environment.

He flashed her a smile, “Thanks.” How could someone be so fluid in every way? His physique, his expression, his thought. Though she tried to portray similar ease, Briel could never quite pull it off. Still, she managed to fool most people, even most trained people. Not Nessa, and not Jase, though Jase for a different reason. Since he knew the real thing in himself, he could easily recognize a fraud.

Crossing to the kitchen, Nessa pulled out three glasses and some ice. “What do you want, Briel? Water, soda, wine?”

“Water is fine.”

“Scotch?” she returned to Jase.

Briel saw him cringe, and she raised her eyebrows at him. “Just some iced tea, please. It's in the fridge.”

“Briel,” he continued as if nothing had happened. “You have to have some idea who is doing this. Think about what you've done lately; have you made any new enemies?”

“I'm thinking it's something to do with ProtoComm,” she shrugged. “You tell me if that makes sense. I mean, Bill Henry wouldn't be happy with me after Banff, but he's kind of out of commission. Still that doesn't mean that someone else from ProtoComm couldn't hold enough grudge to come after me; they certainly possess enough resources.”

“What about your Team? They certainly had opportunity,” Jase prompted.

“Opportunity, but not motive. Most of the people I recruited for the mission have little knowledge of me outside of a few meetings. Only Nessa and Liam know me on more than a surface level.”

“Well, obviously not Nessa. So, what about Liam?”

Ironic. Now Liam suspected Jase and Jase suspected Liam. She remembered the thought she had that Liam didn’t like Jase because Jase was the biggest threat. Now that she thought about it, the converse could also be true. She imagined that Liam was just about impressive enough to raise Jase’s defenses. As far as it concerned Briel, she did not trust either of them. Still, she knew no definite ill of Liam, and, though his typical luggish self, he had shown unusual concern for her after the fire.

“It's always possible,” Briel allowed.

“But you don't think so...”

“Not really.” Briel studied Jase carefully as he seemed to bury himself in thought.

Jase tilted his head and peered at Briel, as if trying to dig the information directly from her brain. “Who knew you were going to Mexico? Or even, who knew you were going on a mission at all?”

“That's about it: the Team recruits, you, Sara, whoever hired us...”

This time, Jase seemed to pull inside his head to search for ideas. “What about that guy who contacted you on the computer. Did you tell him anything?”

“Nothing,” she lied immediately. She did not want to try and defend an indefensible tenet, and she still had no logical reason to trust Ted. And Briel could not escape the sensation that she knew Ted, that she trusted him, maybe even liked him. Though she could not pinpoint her reasons, she held a vague sense that she had to believe in Ted's benevolence. Briel did not like the idea of trying to prove her logic behind that belief to any rational creature.

If he suspected the lie, Jase didn’t confront her. Briel didn't know if he had let it go because he was stupid enough to believe her or because he wanted to lull her into a false sense of security with him. Either way, Briel had averted the conversation from Ted. To ensure that the topic didn't return, Briel decided to reveal her next biggest secret.

“I haven't been totally honest with you,” Briel offered hesitantly, forcing herself to meet Jase's gaze. She had to play this carefully. “I don't know who helped kidnap me in Mexico, but I can guess who might have set the fire at my apartment. The two events may not be directly related.”

“How is that possible?” Nessa queried, carrying the drinks in and setting them on the coffee table.

“Well, remember how I didn't tell you everything about what happened in Mexico?”

“Yes,” Nessa looked guiltily toward Jase, apparently thinking about how she had spilled Briel's secrets to him.

“I heard some information in Mexico that would make me a much bigger target now than I was when I arrived there. One of Jack's thugs mentioned calling Henry, and then I heard Jack talking to a 'Mr. Henry' while on the phone. So they know I heard that Henry is still running ProtoComm.”

“What?” Jase seemed almost physically struck by her words. Something about her disclosure upset him - at least the distraction from Ted had worked.

“Of course, when I escaped, so did that information, and if Henry wants to stay below the radar, he won't want me out here spreading the news. He may not have instigated my capture, but I bet Bill Henry is involved with trying to burn down my apartment, and maybe even with sending someone to run me off the road. If that's the case, all he needs is someone competent and greedy. Since I don't really know the personal character of most of my teammates, that description may describe any of them.”

“In that case, you need to come stay with me for the time being.” Nessa insisted.

Briel pursed her lips, but she didn’t have a better idea. “I will,” she acquiesced, “but only if Jase can put something together to beef up your security.”

Uncharacteristically, Jase seemed overcome with some emotion. Nessa stared, confused, at his panicked expression, and when he registered her shock, Jase seemed to recover his composure.

“So, Henry is still in commission. If that's the case, I have some work to do beyond protecting you, Briel.”

Jase looked up at the mention of his name. “She's absolutely right. If Briel is going to move in with you, even for a few days, I need to do some serious work on your system.”

Nessa nodded. “Of course, I have no objection. I just...”

“I have to go,” Jase interrupted her.

“What do you mean?” Nessa asked, concerned.

“There are some people who need to know that Henry is still in play, some acquaintances who need to improve their security. Bill Henry made lots of enemies over the years, and he can't afford to leave loose ends. That would certainly explain why someone is trying to kill you, Briel. Henry can't afford more exposure, and he knows what you're capable of.”

“You have to stay at my place,” Nessa declared, immediately pulling her eyes from Jase's face to Briel's. “Don't look for an apartment just yet. You need someone around to help you.”

Briel wanted to roll her eyes. Though she liked Nessa, Briel did not appreciate the over-solicitous concern. Not only that, but if she stayed with Nessa, that would put Nessa in even more danger.

“Nessa's right, Briel,” Jase insisted. “I don't doubt that you could handle a lone assailant, but you're talking about the power of ProtoComm here. Even worse, you're talking about Bill Henry and his well-oiled machine.”

“And, I'm not talking about handling anyone. Now that I know what is going on, I can be on my guard. Besides, if I can't handle Henry, what makes you think you can.”

Jase grinned at the challenge, but didn't address it directly. “I told you,” he answered, “I still retain some connections from my ProtoComm days.”

This did nothing to dampen Briel's determination to flee. So you still have contacts, but I should trust you to help me? Briel accused silently.

“I'll search them out,” he glared at Briel, apparently growing irritated at her resistance, “and see if I can find any information.”

With this, Jase stood and glided to the door. “In the meantime, I need to make those phone calls. Let me take you two home,” he insisted, though Nessa lived less than a five-minute walk from his apartment. “We'll sleep this one off tonight and see what we come up with tomorrow.”

The short drive ended almost as soon as it began, and Briel watched as Jase, cat-like in his stealth, stepped out of the vehicle and disappeared around the side of the house.

“We don't really need him to case the house,” Briel complained to Nessa. “We have as much experience as he does.”

“That's true, but I've never seen anyone who could pick up a trail like he can,” Nessa almost cooed.

Irritated, Briel rolled her eyes at Nessa's undisguised admiration for Jase. Though she could not deny his skill, Briel wondered that her friend seemed eager to trust the man who had so readily manipulated Felicity Miller. Who would expect him to show any morals to accompany his “great skill”? Briel said nothing, however, and several minutes later, Jase once again greeted them with a confident nod.

“No one has been here yet. I could stay if you want, though,” Jase offered as he gingerly opened the front door.

“Not necessary,” Briel responded almost immediately following him inside. “Nessa and I are fairly well equipped, and you know how good her security system is.”

Jase raised his eyebrows at Briel. “It's the same one you had. Whoever is after you seems to have full mastery of this exact system.”

Though she didn't want Jase's watchful eyes anywhere near her tonight, she couldn't argue with his logic. “Still, we'll be fine. We'll sleep in shifts.”

“Jase, really. It's okay. I'll turn on the motion sensors.” Briel cringed internally at Nessa's promise since it would increase the difficulty of Briel's egress.

Nessa turned and, as if she had commanded him, Jase followed her to the door from where he had been scanning the room. She lifted gently up on her toes and, her hand on his arm, placed a kiss on his cheek. Never in her knowledge of him had Briel seen Jase look uncomfortable, but something in Nessa's affection disturbed his usual imperturbability.

“We'll see you in the morning,” Nessa offered pleasantly.

Smiling, somewhat abashed, Jase pulled the door behind him. After all her days of questioning Jase's motives, Briel suddenly felt as if she might hold out hope for him. Even if he had led a somewhat reprobate life, Nessa had apparently decided to make him her friend – or maybe more. Hadn't Nessa changed Briel, someone who had vowed never to fall victim to vulnerability? No broken man could redeem another, but perhaps someone like Nessa could urge a corrupt heart to want redemption. Briel gathered her expression of awe just before Nessa turned back, smiling, to face the living room.

Now Briel prepared herself for an uncomfortable outpouring of support, and Nessa didn't disappoint. “I know you're a little stressed, though you don't usually fall into that category. What can I offer you? What do you do to relax?” Nessa solicited.

“Honestly, Nessa, I can't relax the same way when I'm around a crowd.” The whole candles and coffee just doesn't work with company.

“Two's a crowd?” Nessa teased. “Well, let's try it anyway, but we'll forgo your candles. We'll just talk for a while.”

Candles. So Nessa knew about the candles. Briel smiled, amused despite the intrusion.

“Fine,” Briel concurred.

For a few minutes, Briel would indulge herself in a little comfortable conversation with her friend. In a few hours, Briel would strike out on her own and leave her friends behind, regardless of what they wanted from her. That maneuvering would require vigilance. She could give herself two hours to relax with Nessa before the ultimate dissolution of her controlled, ordered, predictable existence.

Once Nessa finally gave up her attempt to make Briel relax, Briel found herself comfortably ensconced on a comfortable sofa, overly luxurious blankets the only visible evidence of her friend’s tendency toward drama. The over solicitous conversation finally dwindled, and Briel lay comfortably alone with her thoughts.

While she sat in Jase’s apartment, she had shot off a message to Ted, not revealing her ordeal, but making her excuses for being unavailable. Though she had checked her phone periodically, she had received only one completely incomprehensible message in response: “I see you now.” Was it an acknowledgement, some attempt to communicate to her through misguided subterfuge? Or had she misread him completely; had he resorted to visual stalking when he lost track of her online? A shiver ran up her spine at the thought, and for the first time, she actually considered that the connection might prove dangerous.

Of course, danger gave her energy. She tried to suppress her it, awash with what passed for anxiety in her brain – a desire for action. Unfortunately, she could still hear Nessa moving around in the other room, and Briel would not start her egress until she feared no interruption. After lying still for half an hour, Briel’s boredom overtook her, and she faded into a slumbering daze.

At one point – she imagined about an hour later – an undiscernible sensation tugged her to muddled awareness. When she felt it again, she realized her phone had pulsed a vibration. Her sleep-addled mind couldn’t process the sensation, but another buzz of the phone drew her hand to the coffee table to retrieve the offending device, and she raised it to eye level.

Unexpectedly, she did not see the characteristic notification for a text. Instead, an icon she had never seen blinked at the top of her screen, and she tapped to open it.

What happened to you? it read.

Who would have been able to download an app onto Briel’s phone without her permission? Maybe Jase, though he would have no reason not to just text. Consequently, the real answer seemed obvious.

Ted?

Did something happen to you? You’ve been MIA.

There was a fire at my apartment.

For several seconds, Briel stared at the blinking cursor. Why had he downloaded a separate app when they had already communicated? And more confusing, why had he sent her that obscure message before? A security test?

Are you hurt?

No. My place is gone, though. I had to sleep at a friend’s place for the night. How did you access my phone?

Again, no immediate answer.

Your login info was on your computer. When I couldn’t reach you, I decided to try your phone – which worked as I thought it would.

As usual, Briel found herself highly irritated at the imposition, but she also appreciated the connection.

Yeah, it’s been a long day. I was pretty exhausted, so I fell asleep.

In that case, I think I should let you sleep.

Briel rolled her eyes. Always with the over concern. Kind of like Nessa, if Briel thought about it. Why did she attract these people all of a sudden?

I’m fine.

No, I’m going to let you go. I just wanted to make sure you could get my messages. I have some things to do now.

In typical fashion, the connection flashed off, and Briel huffed in frustration as she dropped the phone onto the blanket. She didn’t think she could sleep again, but she would wait an hour before leaving. When Nessa woke, the woman would encounter a very disappointing situation.