I’m just afraid that you’re going to fight it so hard, that when you fall, you’re going to fall apart. – Nessa Santiago

I found out that God doesn’t necessarily give us answers; he gives us strength. – Felicity Miller

“You didn't need to hurt her,” Briel hissed angrily at Liam. Though satisfaction had ruled most of her psyche on the plane ride back to Phoenix, she couldn't feel good about the force Liam had used on Felicity Miller. The memory, sparked by one plane to evoke the other, engulfed Briel before she could squelch it. After finally retrieving the information on ProtoComm, Briel had tried to relax as she left Vancouver behind. Yet within her sense of accomplishment, one blemish had marred her pleasure: her neglect and mistreatment of Felicity Miller.

Still, Briel couldn't complain about the eventual outcome of the Miller mission. Not only had she retrieved every ounce of information that she needed about ProtoComm, she had also managed to save Felicity, something she had never felt confident of during her entire operation.

Briel's greatest concern had surprised her: she had feared losing the mother of the three children for whom she had cared the previous few weeks. How many times had the blue eyes of little Nicholas floated into Briel's vision, and she had imagined their confused pain when Mommy didn't come home? Before the Alvares mission, Briel had considered herself beyond such interest, but the Millers had uprooted her careful indifference.

“Briel,” Liam drew her back into reality. “Nothing else would have worked. With all those witnesses, we couldn't very well use more traditional methods to encourage her cooperation. Besides, you had let her pull the stunt in the first place.”

Trying not to give vent to her irritation, Briel coldly returned his accusation. “Of course, that would have worked out fine if you hadn't let her jump off the train.”

Liam's anger leaked through only in the form of a dangerous glare, “Yes, I did. After I saved her from plunging to her death. Where were you? Rifling through your backpack to get a bigger gun? You didn't even have the guts to use it.”

Though she wanted to, Briel could not really blame Liam for any of his actions except for the pain he had caused Felicity. Liam had acted entirely professionally, the consummate op. Still, something about the mission bothered her, and the only outlet for her frustration sat next to her on the plane.

“You're out of control,” he jabbed. The accusation come from nowhere, and Briel wanted to punch him for it. “What's happening to you?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. If he had said the words out of spite, she could have written them off, but Liam seemed sincerely mystified by her behavior. The confusion felt much worse than a childish taunt. “I only know of two things that could take you out of your game like that.”

“Which are?” Briel challenged.

“Some weird religious conversion or a guy.”

Briel wanted to hit him. “How am I out of my game?” She didn't address his two options.

“Are you kidding? You're so emotional. The last guy I saw who got all weepy had been hit up by some born-again freaks,” he leered into the space in front of him, grinning at what he considered so ridiculous.

Could he have hit on the right issue? she wondered. Surely not, but she recognized some truth to his characterization. When she had left her parents' home at the age of eighteen, she had given over any kind of mass attendance, scorning the pseudo-religious rote of her parents “faith.” Not until she had begun working with the Millers had she even considered deigning to attend a religious service.

No, she had not experienced any religious conversion in recent weeks, but maybe something in the demeanor of that priest, or whatever they called him at the Millers’ church, had affected Briel. From someone who had seen so many con-men, religious and otherwise, in her occupation, she clearly recognized the sincerity of the man with his long black and purple robe. He had invited not only the Millers to join him for lunch that day, but also Briel. In fact, his generosity had so effected Briel that she refused to attend church with the Millers again for fear of growing interested.

Briel had no problem – in theory - accepting the existence of the type of God they preached, but she in no way could afford to make herself vulnerable to such blind devotion. She had too often seen the results of fanaticism.

Still, Liam had more insight than Briel would admit, because the genuineness of both the Millers and that priest had affected Briel's peace of mind. Even more disconcerting, the Millers themselves, and even Nick, had somehow awakened the ache that she had so successfully subverted since her parents had died. Is it possible to fall in love with a whole family? she asked herself, peeved by even the idea of such susceptibility. Hadn't Brendan's eventual betrayal negated the validity of the belief system? Briel didn't know, though she knew how easily a pretender could slip into any community and wreak havoc.

One of these days, she knew, she would have to face the fact that something inside her had changed during the Miller mission. She did not know what, but, being a rational human being, she would need to take the time to assess exactly the implications of that change. In a world of intrigue and deception, she tried - sometimes unsuccessfully - to insist on complete honesty with herself.

With Liam, though, Briel could afford some dishonesty. Liam smelled weakness, and he possessed an almost uncontrollable urge to capitalize on it. Because of that fact, Briel knew better than to admit to him how truly effected this mission had left her. Better to accuse him of weakness than admit her own.

“Are you jealous?” she challenged, adopting the most seductive tone she could manage.

“Should I be?”

“Well, I'm not sure. Have you been deficient in some way that would make you vulnerable?”

Liam narrowed his eyes at her, doing his best to pin Briel to her seat. His smile seemed almost menacing, but Briel recognized Liam's true intent. “Come here a minute,” he commanded.

Grabbing her by the hand, Liam pulled her to the back of the plane, beyond where their teammates napped or read. He pinned her gently between himself and the wall, grinning suggestively as he asked, “Do you want me to show you how vulnerable I feel?”

Rolling her eyes, Briel played along with the game that she had begun. She had no intention of letting Liam know how close to the truth he had landed. Still, even as Liam devoured her mouth, she couldn't help imagining another set of lips that she would have preferred to kiss, lips she had kissed only a few times before but would never forget.