In Search of the Truth

Liam sighed softly as he sat back in his chair and listened with half an ear as Sandoval continued to go over Zo'or's schedule for the next two weeks.

It wasn't that he was unhappy that Sandoval was going on vacation. In fact, he'd been delighted - for his father's sake - when Da'an had broached the idea. Sandoval needed a vacation, needed to get away from the Taelons - all of them - for a bit. No, he wasn't the slightest bit unhappy about that.

What he was unhappy about was the fact that Sandoval's going on vacation left him in charge. Left him dealing with Zo'or, with the Volunteers, and with a number of duties he would much rather not assume. The only other time this had happened before was when Sandoval had been in the hospital. It had left him with a deep and abiding dislike for the job of Acting Chief Protector to the Taelon Delegation, and a much deeper respect for his father's patience.

Dealing with Zo'or had definitely been the worst part of that.

"Major!" Sandoval said sharply, interrupting Liam's preoccupation. "Are you listening to me?"

"Yes, Sandoval," Liam replied, keeping his voice calm. "You were saying that Zo'or has that dedication at the new Seattle Children's Hospital with Da'an on Wednesday, and then he will be attending the meeting between Si'al and the African premier later that afternoon..."

"Well, it's good to know that you're paying some attention, at least," Sandoval muttered. "Remember, Major, I don't want you improvising..."

"Don't worry, Sandoval, I'll be good," Liam returned, giving his father a sardonic grin. "No improvising, do your job exactly as you would do it... I do remember."

"Good. Now, on Thursday..."

Liam gritted his teeth as he landed the shuttle carefully in front of the Seattle Children's Hospital and looked out over the lawn, already set up for the dedication ceremony. Sandoval had only been on vacation for two days, and already Liam was more than ready to hand him back his job.

To be fair, the worst problem wasn't dealing with Zo'or, as he'd thought it would be. In fact, Zo'or had been surprisingly... well, not exactly pleasant, but at least... reasonable. It wasn't Da'an, the Volunteers - or even the rest of the Synod, which had been another of Liam's fears.

It had been Renee Palmer.

Renee apparently saw Sandoval's vacation as the perfect opportunity for the Resistance - what they'd managed to re-build after the attack Da'an had instigated - to make some moves that Sandoval would find hard to counter when he came back. The fact that Liam was in charge would, in her opinion, simply make it easier.

Liam didn't object to the idea of making a few, subtle moves; but what Renee was proposing wasn't exactly subtle. She was proposing that they set up a series of raids on selected Taelon labs - labs that contained bits and pieces of information relating to certain of Zo'or's 'special projects'. The fact that this information existed - along with its locations - was top-secret, accessible only to certain personnel. If Sandoval was there, he would pick up on the pattern of the raids immediately - and he would expect Liam to pick up on it as well, and deal with it. And with Zo'or and Sandoval already suspicious of him, the last thing Liam needed was to provide them with more ammunition.

Heaving a silent sigh, Liam returned his attention to the here and now, opening the shuttle. A Volunteer - Lieutenant Dietz, the head of the squad he'd sent to help the Seattle police with security - was waiting for him just outside.

"Any problems, Lieutenant?" he asked, getting out of the pilot's seat.

"No, sir," Dietz replied. "The police are on the alert for any sign of trouble, and I've got my squad positioned around the area, with two of them in the security station."

"Good," Liam replied, as he exited the shuttle, followed a moment later by Zo'or and Da'an.

Lt. Dietz bowed to the two Taelons, then handed Liam an earpiece. "I'll be in the security station if you need me, Major."

Liam had just enough time to nod to her in acknowledgement before Dr. Warren Hutchinson, the new hospital's administrator, hurried over to greet them. He grimaced slightly; he'd met Dr. Hutchinson a few weeks ago when Da'an had visited to arrange today's ceremony, and hadn't been overly impressed.

"Welcome to Seattle, Zo'or, Da'an... Major Kincaid. I'm so glad you could make it today."

"As are we, Dr. Hutchinson," Zo'or said, in a charming tone.

Liam shot a suspicious glance at the Synod leader. Zo'or was generally only that charming when he had something up his sleeve. Wonderful... So Zo'or's got plans for the hospital, does he? I'll have to check through Sandoval's files, see if I can find out what...

"If you'll follow me," Hutchinson continued, "we're all set up and almost ready to start."

Good, Liam thought, as he trailed after Hutchinson and the two Taelons. The sooner we get done and out of here, the better...

He stopped abruptly. What the hell...?! Why do I suddenly want to leave?

"Liam?"

Liam glanced up to see Da'an looking at him. Dr. Hutchinson and Zo'or had stopped a few feet away, both of them looking impatient.

"Is something wrong, Liam?"

"Wrong?" Liam repeated. He gave an innocent shrug, only then noticing that he'd been rubbing the palm of his hand - a nervous habit he thought he'd managed to get rid of. "No, nothing's wrong. I was just..." he shrugged again, "just thinking."

Da'an nodded, but Liam wasn't sure whether or not the Taelon believed him.

"Come on," Dr. Hutchinson urged, his tone a bit impatient.

Da'an continued to look at him for another moment or two, and then turned back to Hutchinson and Zo'or.

Liam continued trailing after them, absently scanning the area for potential problems or threats, but the majority of his attention was occupied with the question of why he felt it so important for them to leave as soon as possible.

It wasn't a vision - that would have been fairly obvious. And yet, at the same time, it felt stronger than a hunch; almost like a powerful presentiment that wasn't defined enough for a vision.

Which meant that it would probably be a wise idea to strengthen security.

Slipping his earpiece in, Liam listened for a moment to the chatter on the security channel - regular, calm, nothing unusual being reported - before interrupting.

"This is Major Kincaid. I want a full security sweep of the area. Report any anomalies to me," he ordered - quietly, so as not to be overheard by Hutchinson and the Taelons. He didn't want any questions about his sudden concern over the security arrangements.

"Yes, sir," came the prompt reply. "Starting security sweep now."

By this time they'd reached the dais, which had been set up just outside the hospital's main doors for the ribbon-cutting ceremony. Liam winced slightly as he took in the broad expanse of lawn, where hundreds of chairs - most of them already filled - had been placed for the audience. The large open space hadn't been much of a security concern before, when Liam had thought that this was just going to be another 'publicity stunt', as Hayley Simmons called them; but now...

Dr. Hutchinson quickly introduced the other dignitaries gathered on the dais - among whom were the Governor of Washington State and the Mayor of Seattle - before moving to the speaker's podium to get things started.

As he began speaking, Liam sighed and leaned against the wall of the hospital. Speeches, he thought in disgust as he continued his visual scan of the crowd. This world would probably be a much better place if people didn't feel the need to make so many speeches.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Dr. Hutchinson started, "I would like to welcome you all to the opening and dedication of the new Seattle Children's Hospital. I am Dr. Warren Hutchinson, the hospital's administrator.

"Thanks to the compassion of our Taelon friends..."

Liam managed to tune out the speech as his earpiece beeped for his attention.

"Yes?" he asked quietly.

"Security sweep complete, Major. No sign of any problems," the Volunteer declared.

"Good," Liam replied, feeling exceedingly relieved. "Thank you... Roberts, isn't it?" he added, recognizing the Volunteer's voice. Cpl. Roberts, he vaguely remembered, had been one of Lili's prize piloting students.

"Yes, sir," the Volunteer answered, sounding surprised - and pleased - by the fact that Liam knew his name. "Is there anything else, Major?"

"No," Liam said. "Nothing else. Just... keep your eyes open." He shifted his weight, relaxing slightly, and prepared himself for yet another hour or so of long speeches and boredom.

Putting the scope up to his eye, he looked out over the crowd, and smiled as he focused in on his target.

The speakers set up at strategic locations around the large lawn carried Dr. Hutchinson's speech very clearly to where he was set up. From the sound of it, the good doctor was finally winding down.

Centering his target in the scope, he placed a finger on the trigger and waited.

"...And now," the doctor was saying, "I would like to introduce the one whose beneficence and generosity has given us this wonderful new, up-to-date hospital. Please join me in welcoming Zo'or, the leader of the Taelon Synod."

Beneficence and generosity... right, he thought sardonically, keeping his weapon ready as his target started to walk toward the speaker's podium.

Now! he thought, as his finger tightened on the trigger.

As Zo'or began walking toward the speaker's podium, Liam felt a sudden surge of dread and foreboding go through him. Alarmed, he pushed away from the wall and started after Zo'or, looking around carefully as he did so. What was--

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash, like sunlight on glass. Beckett's memories of dealing with terrorists appeared in front of his eyes for a moment, providing an instant explanation - a rifle scope.

Without even thinking about what he was doing, Liam launched himself forward, pushing Zo'or out of the way as he pulled his gun and shouted, "Sniper!"

A moment later, agony exploded in his right arm and shoulder, and he staggered back. He was distantly aware of the shouts of panic and terror, but the pain was making it hard to think, and he found himself giving in gratefully to the blackness that surrounded him.

Sandoval sighed softly as he slouched down in his chair. His eyes went to the two framed photographs sitting on his desk, and he sighed again, unhappily.

The photos were of his unknown son. And he'd spent the past two days, as well as bits and pieces of time over the previous week, examining them for any clue as to his son's identity and location.

There were some clues. For instance, the photo of the boy as a four or five year old had him playing with a Taelon puzzle - one that had been put on the market two and a half years ago. Which meant that his son could be any age between four and eight.

It also meant that his son's identity was known by someone he himself knew, somebody who had access to his office on board the mothership - there was no other way in which the photos could have gotten there.

Unfortunately, there were also some problems with those facts that he'd established.

First of all, he'd been married to DeeDee eight years ago, and he'd been faithful to her - physically, at least - until her death two years ago. During that time, she had never once gotten pregnant, although they'd tried. They'd both wanted children.

Which meant that the boy had to be at least eight, if not older - or else he was missing something.

Then there was the matter of the access to his office.

The only ones who could access his office while he wasn't there were the Taelons, Major Kincaid, and Volunteer Captain Jardine - his aide since he'd sent Marquette to the Jaridians.

He thought it unlikely that it was any of the Taelons - except perhaps Da'an - would do something like this, even if they knew about his son. They would be much more likely to use him as a bargaining tool. Which left Kincaid and Captain Jardine--

His thoughts were interrupted as his screen suddenly switched on, showing a newscast. He'd set it to do that whenever it picked up anything about the Taelons.

"This is Natalie Durant with the news from the coast," the anchor was saying. "In startling news today, there was an attempted assassination in Seattle, Washington, where Zo'or, leader of the Taelon Synod, and our North American Companion, Da'an, were attending the opening ceremony of the new Seattle Children's Hospital. The following scene was recorded by our cameraman, who was there to cover the ceremony."

Assassination?!

The screen changed to show the front of the hospital. Dr. Hutchinson - who was, in Sandoval's opinion, more arrogant than his medical skills warranted, as well as being a long-winded bore - was at the speaker's podium; Sandoval picked out Da'an, Zo'or and Major Kincaid behind him, along with a few other human dignitaries.

"...whose beneficence and generosity has given us this new, wonderful, up-to-date hospital," Hutchinson was saying. Sandoval couldn't help smiling, despite the seriousness of the news; judging from the expression on Kincaid's face, the doctor had been droning on for a while at this point. "Please join me in welcoming Zo'or, the leader of the Taelon Synod."

Sandoval watched as Zo'or started to approach the podium, followed by Major Kincaid. Then, suddenly, his attention focused on Kincaid as he saw the Major stiffen abruptly. A moment later, Kincaid was flinging himself at Zo'or, and shouting something.

Then as Sandoval continued to watch, shocked, a bright red blotch blossomed on Kincaid's shoulder, and the Protector staggered back, collapsing.

Then the scene switched back to the studio. "The only casualty in the attack was Companion-Protector Major Liam Kincaid, as he saved Zo'or from the sniper's attack. We have been told that the injury is not serious, and that Major Kincaid will be returning to duty as soon as possible.

"At the moment, information is sparse regarding the identity of the assassin, although speculations suggest that it may have been a Resistance-arranged attack..."

Sandoval shut the set off and pulled out his global. Kincaid had said that he would be taking Lieutenant Dietz's squad with him to provide security; one of them should be able to tell him precisely what had been discovered so far.

A moment later, Lt. Dietz's face appeared in his global.

"Lieutenant," Sandoval said coolly.

"Agent Sandoval? I thought you were--"

"I am," Sandoval interrupted. "However, I just saw the newscast of the incident in Seattle. What exactly happened, Lieutenant?"

Dietz looked uncomfortable. Good, Sandoval thought grimly. A Taelon martyr was the last thing he needed right now - and that would have been exactly what would have happened if Zo'or had been killed at today's ceremony.

"The sniper was on the rooftop of the west wing of the hospital, sir," Dietz said. "He or she must have gotten into place after the second security sweep--"

"Wait a minute..." Sandoval interrupted. "Second security sweep?"

"Yes, sir. The one Major Kincaid ordered."

Sandoval sighed mentally, careful to keep his impatience and irritation off his face - a skill that had always served him quite well. "Why don't you tell me exactly what happened, from the beginning?" he suggested.

"Yes, sir," Lt. Dietz replied. She took a deep breath. "Major Kincaid requested that my team help the Seattle police provide security for the ceremony," she explained. "We arrived at 0800 local time, and helped Dr. Hutchinson's people set up for the ceremony, so that we had a good idea of where everything was located. I then sent most of my team to do a physical inspection of the area, while two of my people directed a sensor sweep from the security station. I inspected the rooftops myself, sir, and there was no one there at that time.

"Once the physical inspection was finished, I had my people - except for Roberts and Tsue, who were assigned to the security station - start helping the police with crowd control, with orders to be on the lookout for any possible Resistance members or sympathizers. Everything was in order when Major Kincaid arrived with Zo'or and Da'an, which was when the Major ordered another last-minute security sweep. The sweep was completed just as Dr. Hutchinson began his speech."

"And the results of that sweep?"

"Negative, sir. No problems were detected. Major Kincaid seemed to be very relieved about that."

Which could mean that either this was a Resistance operation he was aware of, and he didn't want the assassin discovered; or that for some reason, he was afraid that something might happen, Sandoval reflected. I hope, for his sake, that it was the latter. "Then what happened, Lieutenant?" he asked out loud.

"Dr. Hutchinson's speech went on for a while, and then he introduced Zo'or. Zo'or was just starting for the speaker's podium when Major Kincaid pushed him away and started yelling that there was a sniper. The next thing I know, the Major's unconscious on the dais and the audience is running around in an absolute panic.

"By the time my people managed to get through the crowd, Major Kincaid had regained consciousness, though he still didn't look too well. He was able to tell us that he'd seen a flash of sunlight reflected off a scope, and that it was what had warned him. That's when we found out where the gunman was."

"But whoever it was escaped?" Sandoval demanded.

"Yes, sir. When we got up there, there was no one around. Seattle Forensics and some of my people are still examining the area."

"And Major Kincaid?"

"The Major was saying that he would be fine, but Da'an insisted that he be taken to Washington General," Lt. Dietz replied. "He said something about a Dr. Park. I sent half my squad with them, to provide security."

"Thank you," Sandoval said. He paused for a moment, and then added grimly, "Inform me as soon as you receive any further information regarding the shooter... and how he was able to evade a full security sweep."

For a moment, Dietz looked as though she were about to protest. Then she stopped herself, and merely asked, "You will be taking charge of the investigation, sir?"

"For the moment," Sandoval replied, and then shut his global. It was what would be expected of him by the Synod, that he cut short his vacation and resume his duties until Kincaid was better.

Let's hope the news report was right and it isn't as serious an injury as it looked, he thought grimly as he pulled on a jacket and headed out the door. The sooner Kincaid is back on duty, the sooner I can go back to finding my son.

He arrived at Washington General twenty minutes later. He was pleased to see that there were no reporters hanging around; whatever else had gone wrong, at least Kincaid's whereabouts had been kept secret.

One of Lt. Dietz's squad was in the main Emergency reception area. Walking up to him, Sandoval demanded to know where Major Kincaid was.

"Sir," the Volunteer said, saluting sharply. "He's on the second floor, south wing. Corporals Bruneau and Roberts are stationed outside his room."

"Good," Sandoval replied. He glanced around. "And what about the rest of your squad, Private?"

"Sergeant Nicholls is in the hospital's security station; Private Anderson is in Main Reception. The rest of the squad is still with Lt. Dietz in Seattle, sir."

"And what about Zo'or and Da'an?" Sandoval demanded.

"Zo'or has returned to the mothership, sir. Da'an is with Major Kincaid."

Sandoval nodded. "If any reporters get word that Major Kincaid is here and show up, I want you to let me know immediately," he ordered, and then started for the elevators.

Once on the second floor, it wasn't difficult to figure out which room Kincaid was in - the two Volunteers standing guard were rather obvious. Nodding to them as he approached, Sandoval opened the door and stepped in, right into the middle of an argument.

Kincaid, his right arm in a sling and his face pale, was standing next to a bed, his customary leather jacket half on. Dr. Park, her expression furious, was facing him with her hands on her hips, and Da'an was off to one side, his eyes going from one to the other as they argued, almost like a spectator at a tennis match.

"I'm fine!" Kincaid was shouting as Sandoval quietly closed the door behind him. None of the three appeared to have noticed his entrance.

"You are not fine!" Dr. Park snapped. "Your collarbone is broken, there's a great deal of soft tissue damage in your shoulder, and you've lost way too much blood! I don't exactly have an unlimited supply of your type, Liam!"

"I'm fine," Kincaid reiterated. "I'll take it easy for a day or two - but I need to find out who the sniper was. We can't have someone running around taking potshots at the Taelons."

"Might I remind you that bullets can't harm Taelons? For once in your life, worry a bit about yourself, Liam! I'm sure that Sandoval is perfectly capable of conducting this investigation. You, on the other hand, need to stay put and take it easy for more than just a day or two!"

"Dr. Park is correct, Liam," Da'an added. "You were wounded; you require time to recover. Agent Sandoval will--"

"Sandoval's on a well-deserved vacation," Kincaid snapped back. "You are not going to disturb him for this, Da'an! If I haven't managed to solve it by the time he comes back, fine, he can take over the investigation then. But you are not interrupting his vacation!"

Puzzled by Kincaid's insistence, Sandoval nonetheless decided it was time to interrupt, before the Major exploded. He stepped forward, the movement drawing everyone's eyes.

"Da'an, Doctor Park, Major," he said, nodding to them.

Kincaid looked a bit flustered. "What are you doing here, Sandoval? You're supposed to be on vacation!"

"I heard the news report, Major," Sandoval replied. "My duty to the Taelons is more important than a vacation." He was lying through his teeth - this particular vacation was very important - but he'd been doing quite a bit of that lately. "Until you are recovered, I will handle the investigation into this incident."

Kincaid looked upset at that. "But..." he started. "But it's just a broken collarbone, Sandoval. It might slow me down a bit physically, but it won't impede my ability to handle this."

Sandoval studied him for a moment, trying to understand what he was thinking. If it was a Resistance-organized attack, it was more than possible that Kincaid wanted to handle the investigation in order to re-direct it. On the other hand... all Sandoval's instincts were telling him that Kincaid hadn't known about this, and was being honest when he claimed that he wanted it solved. So what should I do?

"Liam," Dr. Park began. Her tone was both surprisingly patient and almost maternal - as though she were talking to a child - which puzzled Sandoval. However, he didn't have the time or the inclination to figure out why she was behaving that way at the moment. "It isn't just a broken collarbone. I told you, you've lost a lot of blood - you look as though you're about to collapse right now - and the bullet did a great deal of soft tissue and nerve damage. You're extremely lucky that it didn't puncture your lung as well. Your arm and shoulder need to be immobilized for at least two weeks, preferably three, if you're going to have full use back. You cannot handle a full investigation with those restrictions."

"I have to agree with Dr. Park," Da'an added. "If necessary, I will make it an order, Liam. Agent Sandoval will handle the investigation into this incident either until it is solved, or you are capable of resuming your full duties."

Kincaid looked pleadingly at Sandoval, obviously wanting him to help.

"I will require some assistance, Major," Sandoval said finally. With Da'an threatening to make Kincaid's non-involvement an order, it was the best he could do.

Judging from Kincaid's expression, he knew it too, though he wasn't happy about it. "All right."

Dr. Park's mouth tightened as she looked at the two of them. "Liam..."

Kincaid stared her down. "We need to find out who is responsible. I need to find out who is responsible."

"You are staying here for another two days, at the very least, until I'm satisfied that your body has managed to replace the blood you've lost," Dr. Park insisted.

"Sorry, Doctor, but I've got a job to do," Kincaid countered. "Come on, Da'an. We've got to get you up to the mothership, and then Sandoval and I have to get back to Seattle."

"Liam, you are not--"

Kincaid just looked at her for a moment, and Sandoval was surprised to see Dr. Park give in. "All right," she said, with obvious reluctance. "But you aren't going to be piloting a shuttle, Liam. Not until you're completely healed. In fact, I don't want you using your right arm or hand at all. And Agent Sandoval," she turned to him, "I'm making you personally responsible for Major Kincaid. If he aggravates his wound, you're going to hear from me."

Kincaid flushed bright red. "Doctor--"

"Take it or leave it."

Sandoval looked at the two of them. There was something going on here, between them, something that he didn't know about. Something that involved him in some way. But he didn't have time to worry about that right now. He nodded in acknowledgement. "Very well, Doctor, I agree. I believe both Corporal Roberts and Sergeant Nicholls are shuttle pilots; the Sergeant can take Da'an back to the mothership, and Corporal Roberts will take us to Seattle."

Liam frowned as he studied the rooftop. When they'd arrived back in Seattle, before she and her squad had returned to their base, Lt. Dietz had informed them that the Seattle PD hadn't found anything to explain how the sniper had evaded security - something that Liam definitely wanted to know. If his presentiment was any guide, then the sniper had been in position before the second sweep. But the only thing they'd found was a scrap of cloth caught in the door - obviously the gunman had left in a hurry.

He glanced over to where Sandoval was talking to Captain Kelman of the Seattle PD Major Crime unit.

He really hadn't wanted Sandoval called away from his vacation. His father needed the time away - he hadn't had a vacation in all the time he'd been serving the Taelons. Now, because of some gunman, he'd been pulled back after only two days - the equivalent to a weekend. Certainly not the longer vacation Liam felt he needed. He could only hope that Zo'or would agree to letting Sandoval continue the vacation once this was over.

He frowned thoughtfully. A gunman who doesn't seem to realize that bullets can't hurt Taelons - which is strange, because I thought everyone knew about the Rho'ha trial. It was certainly publicized enough.

And then there was Dr. Park...

What was that all about? She doesn't like Sandoval in the first place - why would she make him responsible for me?

And since when do I need someone else to be responsible for my actions?

Or... does she suspect what I'm trying to do? And if she does... will she tell Doors? Liam didn't really think so. Dr. Park had gone to bat with Doors for him before. Perhaps, if she does know, that was her way of telling me she approves...

I hope so.

"Major."

Turning around, Liam saw Sandoval standing there, looking at him. "What is it? Did the police find something?" he asked, suddenly realizing that they were alone. Captain Kelman had obviously headed back down.

"No, nothing else," Sandoval replied. He looked over the roof, and then returned his attention to Liam. "You ordered a second security sweep after you arrived. Why?"

Liam hid a grimace. Looks like it's my turn for the interrogation. At least Sandoval had saved the question until they were alone.

Unfortunately, he couldn't exactly tell the other man the truth - not the entire truth, at least.

"I started to feel uneasy as soon as we left the shuttle," he explained. "I figured that another security sweep might not be a bad idea. Better to be safe than sorry."

Sandoval nodded thoughtfully. "Lt. Dietz told me that you saw the scope," he continued. "Can you tell me exactly what happened?"

Liam took a deep breath. "Volunteer Roberts let me know that the sweep had turned up no problems just after Hutchinson's speech started. I was relieved, since it meant that I had probably just been imagining things - doing your job is really stressful, Sandoval," he added pointedly.

"Anyway, Hutchinson's speech was boring, so I was concentrating on the crowd, trying to get a sense of what they thought of the ceremony. Then, when Zo'or started for the podium, I caught sight of something out of the corner of my eye. I moved to get a better vantage point, and that's when I saw the flash of reflected sunlight. I went to push Zo'or out of the way, and then the bullet must have hit my shoulder, because I felt this sudden, sharp pain and then blacked out for a moment."

Sandoval studied him for a moment, and then turned his attention to the view from the roof. Relieved that his father's attention was off him, Liam leaned surreptitiously against the wall. He was feeling dizzy, but he didn't want Sandoval to notice and send him back to Washington as if he was a disobedient child - although he had the uncomfortable feeling that a child was exactly what Dr. Park considered him at the moment.

He was a fast healer - a gift from the Kimera side of his heritage; it shouldn't take much more than another hour or two before he recovered from the blood loss.

"And he used a rifle..." Sandoval muttered, and Liam was about to answer before he realized that Sandoval was just thinking out loud. "Why would someone use a rifle to assassinate a Taelon?"

"A warning?" Liam suggested, before he thought about what he was saying.

Sandoval turned around, and Liam could see the sudden interest in his expression. "What makes you say that, Major?"

"I'm not sure," Liam said slowly, shifting uncomfortably. The analgesic Dr. Park had given him was starting to wear off, and the pain in his shoulder was making itself known. Between that and trying not to pass out... his mouth was obviously moving faster than his brain right now.

"I was just... thinking. Everyone knows that bullets won't hurt Taelons, so why would someone shoot at a Taelon with bullets if they meant to kill them? So what I thinking was: what if the intention wasn't to kill Zo'or? What if it was meant to act as a warning? 'Pay attention or the next time it'll be an energy blast'?"

"An interesting theory, Major. It does make a certain amount of sense... but if it is a warning, what is it warning about?"

Liam started to shrug, and then thought better of it. Moving his shoulder was not something he wanted to do at the moment. "I haven't a clue. You know I'm not exactly privy to Zo'or's pet projects."

The look Sandoval gave him at that was an irritated one. Liam ignored it. "You'd be a lot more inclined to know what Zo'or might be doing that would merit this kind of warning."

In turn, Sandoval chose to ignore the hint. "I would expect that someone who would go to so much trouble to arrange a warning such as this would leave some form of message so that the target would know what the warning was about."

"Who can tell? This guy shot at Zo'or, Sandoval," Liam countered. "That's not exactly the sign of a balanced mind. Not when there's security everywhere."

"He did manage to get away," Sandoval pointed out. Then he frowned. "Major... you're too pale," he said, his tone surprisingly concerned. "I think we had better return to Washington; there's nothing else we can find out here - not at the moment, at least."

Liam took a deep breath. He'd have argued, but Sandoval was right about there being nothing left here. Forensics and the Volunteers had been all over the place. They weren't going to find anything else. "All right," he said, pushing himself away from the wall with his left hand. Then he staggered, another wave of dizziness sweeping over him for a moment. When he recovered, Sandoval was standing next to him, holding his arm.

"Come on, Major, let's get back to the shuttle. I think you need to sit down for a bit."

Sandoval studied Kincaid carefully as they took the elevator down to ground level. The younger man was as pale as a ghost, and he hadn't argued after his near-collapse up on the roof - obviously, he wasn't feeling quite as up to this as he'd thought he would.

He himself was feeling surprised at the amount of concern he felt for Kincaid. Yes, they'd gotten closer since his time in the hospital, had even become friends - sort of - particularly after Kincaid had arranged that surprise party for him.

But at the same time, they were - as far as Kincaid knew - diametrically opposed on their views about the Taelons, no matter what opinions the Major embraced publicly. Kincaid had ties to the Resistance - was, in fact, fairly highly placed in the Resistance, something he'd learned just recently from Sister Elizabeth's diary. And, as far as Kincaid knew, he was still a loyal Taelon agent.

And yet, he reflected, since his sojourn in the hospital...

Sandoval took a deep breath. A lot of things had changed for him since the time he'd spent in the hospital, including his relationship with Liam Kincaid.

None of that explained this concern for him, though.

Getting into the shuttle, they strapped themselves in.

"Where to now, sirs?" the Volunteer pilot asked.

"Back to Washington," Sandoval ordered. As the shuttle rose from the ground, he turned to face Kincaid. "I think you had better go home and get some rest once we arrive, Major," he said. "You can't help find this attacker if you end up back in hospital."

Kincaid shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. "I am feeling a bit... tired," he admitted with obvious reluctance.

"In that case, we'll get some rest and start fresh in the morning. Hopefully Seattle PD Forensics should have something for us by then on that scrap of cloth they found."

Kincaid turned at looked at him thoughtfully. "That reminds me... What's with letting the police forensics unit handle this? I thought you would have insisted on bringing in the Bureau. Since Zo'or was the target, you have every right to do so..."

Sandoval shrugged. "Seattle PD has equipment equal to that of the FBI, and even our forensics people respect the Chief of Forensics there. I've been told she's something of a wizard at getting a great deal of information from very little. They suggested I leave it in her hands for the moment."

There was a bit of jolt as they entered ID space, but Sandoval hardly noticed it, he was so used to it by now. Kincaid's face paled slightly, though, and Sandoval guessed that it had jarred his wounded shoulder.

"Did Dr. Park give you any painkillers?" he asked.

"Yeah," Kincaid replied shortly. "But I'm not allowed to take any for another two hours. She wants the drugs they gave me at the hospital to be completely out of my system before I introduce any others.

"So, assuming they don't find anything, what's next?" Kincaid continued. It was obvious that he wasn't interested in discussing his injury.

"We have someone do a thorough diagnostic of the security sensors," Sandoval replied, going along with the change of subject. "There shouldn't have been any way for someone to evade those."

Kincaid nodded in agreement as they exited ID space. "Yes, that's been bothering me too. I can't see how someone could have managed to get up there and set up between the security sweep and the end of Dr. Hutchinson's speech. It was only about a ten-minute window."

"And then evaded the sensors after the shooting. Even if they didn't know exactly where the shot came from, whoever was in the security station should have been scanning the area for anything suspicious the moment it happened."

The shuttle landed smoothly, and the Volunteer unstrapped himself. "We've arrived at the Embassy, sir."

"Good," Sandoval said, getting up. "Major, we'll meet back here at 0900 hours tomorrow morning."

Kincaid nodded in agreement as he stood up and started out of the shuttle. "9 o'clock, right. I'll see you then, Sandoval."

Once he was gone, Sandoval turned to the pilot. "Very smooth ride, Corporal."

"Thank you, sir," the Volunteer replied.

Sandoval nodded to him, and then headed out. He wanted to get a bit of rest before tomorrow - he had the feeling that he was going to need it.

He stared at the television, dismayed. Damn it! Not only had he missed, which should have been impossible, but he hadn't even seriously injured the damned Taelon's Protector! How had that happened?

And how had the Protector known he was there?

Well, he'd just have to come up with something else. Something better. Something the target wouldn't be able to escape or evade.

Liam jerked awake with a gasp of shock that quickly changed to one of pain as agony flared up in his shoulder. Sitting up, he took a slow, deep breath, followed by another, trying to control the pain enough to allow him to get up.

After a few minutes, the agony had been reduced to a dull throbbing, and he managed to relax a bit.

Looking at his bedside clock, he groaned. It was 5 a.m. - he had four full hours before he was supposed to meet Sandoval at the Embassy. And while he'd intended to go and check some things with Augur before that meeting, he couldn't do that yet either - Augur would kill him if he woke him up before seven-thirty.

Which meant that he had at least two hours with nothing to do. There was no way he was going to be able to get back to sleep - not after that last dream.

Remembering it, he shivered.

It hadn't been anything really defined, nothing that could explain why he had been so terrified. Just a shape in a blackness - a human shape - and a sense of dread; a sense that was reminiscent of what he'd felt yesterday, just before the sniper had taken aim at Zo'or.

Slowly unwinding the gauze he'd used to immobilize his arm while he slept, Liam shook his head as he made his decision. Let Augur complain. He wasn't going to stay here right now with the memory of that dream haunting him.

Finished with the gauze, he put it down on his bedside table and picked up the clean shirt he'd left there last night. He slipped it on very carefully, and then put the sling Dr. Park had ordered him to wear back on.

He stood up carefully, and was relieved to find that the dizziness that had been plaguing him yesterday was gone. Between the blood Dr. Park had given him yesterday and his body's recuperative powers, it appeared that he was no longer suffering from the effects of blood loss.

Rubbing absently at an itchy spot on his right palm, Liam headed downstairs to the Flat Planet's kitchen. Grabbing three of the painkillers, along with a few granola bars from the cupboard for breakfast, he carefully pulled on his jacket and slipped out to the church.

Augur stumbled wearily out of his bedroom and glared as he saw who had disturbed him.

"Liam, I don't know if you realize this, but I do need my sleep," he grumbled. "It's only 5:30 in the morning, for crissakes."

Liam turned to face him. "I need your help, Augur."

"My help?" Augur repeated in disbelief. Sometimes he wasn't sure whether or not he should give the kid a good swift kick in the butt. When he tried to save the kid's life, it was, 'Augur, you betrayed me'; but as soon as a problem came up, Liam was asking for his help. "And just what do you expect me to do this--"

He cut himself off suddenly as he got a good look at the kid.

Liam had just slipped his jacket off, and Augur was stunned to see that his right arm was in a sling. "What happened?" he demanded.

Liam's eyes widened in surprise. "Don't tell me you didn't see the news yesterday!"

Augur shrugged. "I was busy. What happened?"

"Zo'or and Da'an were at the opening ceremony for that new Children's Hospital in Seattle," Liam replied. "Someone took a shot at Zo'or from the roof of the hospital, and got me instead when I pushed him out of the way. The bullet went through my shoulder and broke my collarbone; Dr. Park's given me orders to keep my shoulder and arm immobilized for a few weeks, until it heals."

"Okay... so, why did you push Zo'or out of the way?" Augur demanded.

Liam rolled his eyes. "What was I supposed to do - let him become a martyr? At the time I did it, I didn't realize that the gunman was using bullets, not an energy weapon."

Augur heaved a sigh. And an energy weapon would have been better for you? "So, did you catch whoever was responsible?"

Liam shook his head as he sat down on the couch. "No; that's the problem. Because I'm 'walking wounded', Da'an insisted that Sandoval give up his vacation for the moment and head up the investigation into the incident. I managed to convince him not to sideline me completely, but the sooner we find out who did this and catch them, the sooner Sandoval can go back to his vacation."

Augur studied the kid for a moment, frowning. Liam was up to something, something that had to do with Sandoval. He had been for a while, Augur thought, but it had become more obvious over the past week, ever since that surprise birthday party he'd arranged. For some reason, Sandoval's vacation seemed to be an integral part of whatever it was Liam had in mind. And Augur suspected that it had nothing to do with wanting the Resistance free to make a few unhindered advances.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, deciding that he would keep a close eye on the kid for a while. Keep him out of trouble... and make sure that whatever he was planning that involved Sandoval, it wouldn't jump up and bite him in the ass.

Liam looked relieved; it appeared that he hadn't been sure Augur would agree. "Somehow, the gunman managed to evade a full security sweep. Sandoval's going to have someone do a diagnostic on the sensors, but I'd also like you to see what you can find out; check the sensor logs and see if a full sweep was actually done, that sort of thing. The sweep was only about ten minutes before the shooting."

Augur's eyebrows went up in surprise. "That short a time? I would have thought that whoever was handling security would have done a sweep before you even arrived."

"They did," Liam replied. He fidgeted for a moment. "I ordered another one."

"Why?" Augur asked.

Liam squirmed. "I had a... feeling that something was going to happen."

"A feeling," Augur repeated. He looked carefully at Liam.

He was fully aware just how much Liam's alien heritage scared the kid at times. It was, he suspected, caused by a combination of the Taelons' - Da'an's - fear of the Kimera, Doors' distrust of Liam's heritage, and what had happened when he'd traveled through Ma'el's gateway.

What Liam had told Palmer when he had revealed his secret to her had been quite telling: that he was becoming more human the longer he spent on Earth.

That, Augur knew, was absolute nonsense. Yes, Liam spent most of his time among humans - had essentially been raised by humans, with some help from Da'an; but that didn't mean that he was becoming 'more' human. He was who he was - a Human/Kimera hybrid.

Yes, he hadn't used his shaqarava since that incident with the Jaridian probe and Operation Dark Knight, but despite what Liam obviously wanted to believe, it didn't mean that they were gone. It just meant that either he had gained conscious control of them, or that they were currently dormant and he hadn't been in a situation where they had activated instinctively.

In Augur's opinion, Liam was just hiding from himself. And he dreaded what would happen when the kid was forced to see that.

"Yes, a feeling," Liam returned irritably, drawing Augur out of his thoughts. "It wasn't as strong as a vision... but I knew something was going to happen. I just wasn't sure what."

"All right," Augur said after a moment. "I'll do what I can. I can't promise you anything, though."

"Anything you can get will help," Liam assured him, a smile crossing his face. "Thanks, Augur."

"You're welcome," Augur replied. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get dressed. I'll give you a call as soon as I find anything."

"Okay," Liam replied. He gave Augur another smile, and then headed out.

Sandoval rubbed his eyes tiredly as he leaned back in his chair. He'd managed to get a few hours of sleep, and then he'd gotten up to see if he could make any progress on the search for his son before he had to meet Kincaid at the Embassy.

He hadn't really had all that much luck. His intention had been to see if anyone had accessed his office on the mothership on his birthday between the time Kincaid had gotten him out of there and when he'd come back in the next morning, but according to the mothership's access log, no one had. So either someone had gotten in, and then erased the log, or else the package had been left there sometime during the day, and he hadn't noticed it; in which case, his list of suspects had just expanded to include half the Volunteers on the ship

So many questions... he thought sourly. His eyes went to the photos again.

"Where are you?" he murmured, brushing one finger against the picture of the four-year-old. Such a solemn expression... "Who looks after you?"

He sighed. Everything pointed inescapably toward one fact: whoever had his son, they knew that the boy was his son. How else could he have gotten the blood that had saved him? How else could the photos have appeared in his office?

But whoever had him, they didn't want Sandoval to know who they were, and they didn't want him to meet the boy. They had gone to a great deal of trouble to ensure that, even making sure that his son's DNA wasn't registered - they'd most likely created a false record for him.

More questions. Why? Because I'm an Implant? Because I work for the Taelons? Is that it? Or is it something else?

And yet, the boy knew precisely who he was. The birthday card had been addressed to him by name, and written in the same handwriting as the message inside the card.

Picking the card up, he looked at it again.

It was a very simple card, one that could have been bought almost anywhere in North America or Europe. Anywhere in the English-speaking world, in fact. Trying to trace it would be futile. But he wanted to.

Sighing, he let his head drop down to his chest. The task seemed hopeless - but it was something he had to do. He had to find his son. He was the only person Sandoval had left.

Time to take a different tack, he decided abruptly. Dr. Curzon had mentioned something when she'd told him about the blood - something that he wanted to follow up on. And he had an appointment with her later this morning; he'd speak to her about it then.

That decision made, Sandoval felt himself relax a bit.

Now, on to the other problem he had to deal with. The gunman.

It was six o'clock here - much too early to call Seattle. He'd have to wait until after the meeting with Kincaid.

But what he could do was get a hold of his contacts, see if any of them had any ideas about the identity of whoever had been responsible. It might take a while, but it should help narrow things down.

Liam winced as he stopped walking a block away from the Embassy. There was a crowd of reporters gathered by the entrance, and it didn't take much thought to realize that they probably wanted to speak to Da'an about the attack - but he had no doubt that they would be more than happy to interview him if they could. This was not something he wanted to face, not right now. Not ever, actually, but considering that he was Da'an's Protector, avoiding the press was something that he couldn't normally get away with.

However, this time... he was definitely going to try. The last thing he wanted to do at the moment was discuss his injury, especially with reporters.

What are they doing here this early, anyway? Don't they know that Da'an's not there? And even if he was, he wouldn't be available this early...

Luckily, none of the reporters knew about the subterranean tunnels that led to the Embassy; the same tunnels he'd faced the Jaridian replicant in when he was barely two days old. If he slipped into the Embassy that way, he should be able to avoid them completely.

Fifteen minutes later, Liam sat down at his desk and did his best to relax. Da'an was currently on the mothership - it was safer for him to remain there for the moment - so he was alone. For a few minutes, anyway, there was no tension in the air, no need to put up a façade of normality while keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself...

All right, Liam, enough with the brooding, he scolded himself. Do yourself a favour for once and concentrate on something other than the mess between you and Da'an.

Glancing down, he grimaced at the paperwork that had been piling up since Monday. Most of the time, he managed to get any paperwork he needed to do finished at night, after his work hours were officially over. But since he'd been subbing in for Sandoval, as well as doing his own work...

Heaving a sigh, he tugged the pile a bit closer to him and scanned the top sheet. Well, that one was easy, it just needed his...

...Signature. Which was impossible at the moment, since his right arm was completely immobilized, and had to remain that way.

His expression darkened, becoming a scowl. This wasn't fair...

Well, maybe there was something here that didn't need his signature... or, at least, needed more than just his signature. He could write well enough with his left hand - he'd proved that to his satisfaction a week and a half ago - and if it looked a bit childish, well, he didn't really care about that.

He started to skim through the papers. Signature, signature, signature... FYI memo about the pilot training program - that can wait... signature, signature... Ah, here's one--

"Major," came Sandoval's voice from the door, and Liam glanced up to see him standing there, looking a bit surprised. "I didn't expect you to be in so early."

"It's almost..." Liam shot a quick look at the small clock on his desk, and winced. It was only six forty-five. He'd thought it was later than that. "Oh." He shrugged his left shoulder, then winced again - in pain this time. "I woke up early and decided to come in and try to clear my desk a bit. When do you ever find time to do your paperwork?"

He got the hint of a smile out of Sandoval with that one. "Whenever I get a spare moment," came the reply. "Which is almost never... It's going to be a bit hard to do with your arm like that, though."

"Tell me about it," Liam muttered. He leaned back in his seat, pushing the papers away, and looked up at Sandoval. "Have you managed to find anything?"

Sandoval sighed as he leaned against the doorway. "Well, I've put some feelers out; hopefully I'll get some responses fairly soon. I did have Volunteer Sergeant Bracer go over the scanner equipment; there was nothing wrong with it."

Liam nodded. "Wonderful..." he said sourly. "And I assume we haven't spoken to Seattle yet..."

"No; it's still too early there."

Liam sighed and slumped a bit. "So, any more ideas on what was up with this guy?"

Sandoval shook his head as he entered the room. "I'm afraid not. So far your theory that it was a warning is better than any of the ones I've come up with."

"Have you asked Zo'or about that?" Liam asked, sitting up straight.

"He can't think of anything that might be a reason for this sort of reaction," Sandoval replied.

Liam snorted in disbelief. "Right," he muttered, just as Sandoval's global beeped.

Opening it, Sandoval blinked in surprise. "Yes?"

"Agent Sandoval, I've found something interesting that I think you and Major Kincaid should see," Liam heard a female voice say. He looked at Sandoval questioningly, wondering who it was.

"We'll be there within the hour," Sandoval replied. "Thank you."

"Who was that?" Liam asked, as his father closed the global.

"The Seattle PD's Chief of Forensics," Sandoval said.

Liam stood up, eager to get going. If she had found something... "Well, what are we waiting for?"

Sandoval looked at him in clear exasperation. "I seem to remember that Dr. Park made mention of the fact that you weren't to do any piloting for a few weeks," he replied. "Which means that we've got to get a pilot from the mothership."

Liam dropped back down into his seat. "Right." He really didn't like the idea of letting someone else pilot him around - in his opinion, one of the best perks of being a Companion-Protector was that he got to fly a shuttle whenever he wanted - but Sandoval was right. Even if the pain didn't get him, Dr. Park would. And Liam didn't want to make her angry - her temper was even worse than Doors' when a patient did something she had forbidden.

"Is there anyone that you would prefer?" Sandoval asked. "We might as well get someone who can be assigned to you for the next several weeks."

Liam shook his head. "No, no real preference. I don't know enough about the Volunteer pilots' skills to be able to choose anyone in particular."

Sandoval studied him for a moment, and then nodded. "All right... How about Corporal Roberts?"

Roberts was the Volunteer who had piloted them yesterday, the one Lili had taught. Based on what Liam had seen of him so far, she'd been right to consider him a prize pupil. "Sounds fine to me," he replied.

"I'll call up to the mothership and arrange for his re-assignment," Sandoval said. "It will probably take about half an hour to get him down here."

Liam nodded in agreement, sighing. "In that case, I might as well see if I can actually get any of this done," he muttered, glaring at the paperwork on his desk.

Sandoval re-opened his global and called up to the mothership, ordering Captain Jardine to see about sending Roberts down with the shuttle and making the arrangements to assign him to the Major.

He'd been a bit surprised when Kincaid had mentioned that he didn't really know much about the skills of the other pilots. Of course, Kincaid had been trained directly by Captain Marquette, and didn't have very much to do with the Volunteers in the first place, but still... perhaps getting him more involved in that part of the Volunteer program would be useful. He'd have to think about it a bit, see how Kincaid interacted with Roberts, but it was definitely an idea to consider.

Am I thinking what I think I'm thinking? Sandoval asked himself abruptly. He'd never really considered it before, even after figuring out that Kincaid was a member of the Resistance. But now...

This might just work. I'll have to broach it carefully, of course, but bringing Kincaid in might be exactly what we need...

Shutting his global, Sandoval studied Kincaid thoughtfully. The younger man was concentrating on what appeared to be an incident report form, a frown crossing his face as he read through it.

He didn't really know all that much about Kincaid, not really. He knew that the Major was good at protecting Da'an, was in the Resistance, and enjoyed hanging out at the Flat Planet Café, and that was about it. Nothing about his personal life, about what he liked to do in what spare time he had, between the Taelons and the Resistance. Sandoval didn't even know anything about the Major's family.

That would have to change if he was going to bring Kincaid in... but it would have to wait for later. They had a gunman to find first.

Which reminds me... "Major, have you any theories as to why not only the sensors but the Volunteers themselves missed the gunman during the second sweep?"

Kincaid looked up from his paperwork with a thoughtful frown. "No; I hadn't really thought about that part of it," he admitted. His frown deepened. "It's possible..." he began slowly.

"What?" Sandoval demanded.

"It's possible that they didn't actually do a physical search on the second sweep," Kincaid replied after a moment. "I asked for it after we left the shuttle, and I got the report just after Dr. Hutchinson started speaking. It couldn't have been more than five to ten minutes; plenty of time to conduct a full sensor sweep, but not enough for a thorough physical search."

Sandoval's frown echoed Kincaid's. "You're right, Major; that definitely isn't enough time." If one - or some - of the Volunteers were in on this... "We're going to have to ask some questions, and get started on some digging. Once we speak to Forensics, we'll go on from there."

Kincaid nodded in agreement.

Abruptly, Sandoval's global beeped.

"Sandoval."

"It's Corporal Roberts, sir. I'm just about to land the shuttle in front of the Embassy."

"Good. We'll meet you out there," Sandoval replied, and shut his global again, turning to Kincaid, who was already standing up.

"What about the reporters?" Kincaid asked anxiously.

Sandoval smiled faintly. "I managed to get rid of them on the way in," he answered. They hadn't been all that happy about it, but Sandoval had long since learned how to insist.

Kincaid looked relieved. "Thank you," he said fervently, as they started out. "I really didn't feel up to dealing with them right now."

"You and me both, Major," Sandoval returned. "You and me both."

Half an hour later, they walked into the Seattle PD Forensics Lab. Lieutenant Sally Tanner, the Chief of Forensics, was waiting for them.

"Glad you could make it, gentlemen," she said. "I have something very interesting to show you."

"Oh?" Sandoval inquired.

She held up an evidence bag which held what Sandoval recognized as the scrap of cloth they'd found yesterday.

"I spent all yesterday afternoon working on analysing this," Tanner said. "It's made of some fabric that I've never seen before - fabric with a rather unusual property."

"What?" Kincaid asked from beside him.

"It can apparently block Taelon sensor scans."

Sandoval and Kincaid looked at each other with identical expressions of comprehension on their faces. Well, Sandoval thought, I guess that explains how he or she evaded the sensor scans.

"Were you able to pick up anything off it? DNA fragments or the like?" Kincaid asked.

Tanner shook her head. "Nope. Nothing except dirt from the roof itself. I'd guess that your gunman was wearing gloves and was carrying this material in a bag. Probably took it out when he arrived on the roof. It's likely that as soon as he made the shot, he draped himself in it and took off, but didn't realize that a small corner got caught in the door as he was leaving."

"In other words, a professional, but possibly not very experienced," Sandoval muttered. "Have you been able to trace the material?"

"I'm afraid not, Agent Sandoval. As I said, I've never seen anything like it before. I've asked around, but I doubt that we'll have much luck."

Sandoval nodded slowly. "Did your people or the police manage to discover anything else?"

"No," she replied. "The audience was too panicked for anyone to notice someone slipping out of the building near them, and if your guy is as professional as we think he is, I doubt that he exited through the front anyway. If there's one thing I've learned after five years as Chief of Forensics, it's that someone this good at hiding their tracks is almost impossible to catch."

"Well, we'll see about that," Sandoval declared. "I'll take your analysis to FBI Headquarters, find out if anyone there knows about this fabric. If you discover anything else, please let me know as soon as possible."

"All right, I'll do that," Tanner replied. She picked a folder up off the counter and handed it to Sandoval. "Here you go."

"Thank you," Sandoval said, nodding to her. Then he led Kincaid out.

As they got back into the shuttle, Corporal Roberts turned to face them. "While you were in there, we received a message from the mothership, Major, Agent Sandoval. Zo'or wants to see you."

Sandoval glanced at Kincaid for a moment, and then turned back to the Volunteer. "All right," he said. "In that case, let's go."

"Yes, sir," Roberts replied, as they strapped in. Closing the shuttle, he took off smoothly.

Zo'or and Da'an were waiting for them on the bridge of the mothership. From long experience, Sandoval was able to tell that they'd apparently been arguing about something.

"Agent Sandoval, Major Kincaid," Zo'or greeted them. "Have you discovered anything?"

Sandoval nodded. "Yes, Zo'or," he replied. He held up the report Tanner had given him. "According to Seattle's Chief of Forensics, the scrap of cloth that was found on the scene was made from a fabric that is impenetrable to Taelon sensors. The reason the security sweep didn't pick the gunman up was quite likely because he was wrapped in this fabric." We won't mention the fact that when Kincaid called for the second security sweep, they should have searched the area physically as well, he decided. That bit of information could wait until after he and Kincaid had questioned the Volunteers involved.

Zo'or looked alarmed at that. "You are certain that this is correct?" he demanded. "That our sensors cannot penetrate this fabric?"

"Yes. Their Chief of Forensics is excellent, Zo'or. If she says that Taelon sensors won't penetrate it, they won't."

"I have never heard of any material with this quality," Da'an commented quietly.

"Neither have we," Kincaid said. "Lt. Tanner said that she was going to look into it for us, see if she could find out where it came from."

"And I will have the FBI look into it as well," Sandoval added.

"Good," Zo'or replied. He walked over to the command chair and sat down.

"Is there anything else, Zo'or?" Sandoval asked.

"Yes," Zo'or replied, "there is. I have re-scheduled my meeting with Si'al and the African premier; it is to take place in one hour. Major Kincaid will accompany me. Agent Sandoval, you will continue to work on this investigation."

Catching the look Da'an gave Zo'or, Sandoval realized that this was what the two Taelons had been arguing about. That wasn't much of a surprise; Kincaid was injured, and - strictly speaking - shouldn't really be on duty, much less acting as Protector, until he was healed.

"Are you sure, Zo'or?" he asked. "Perhaps it might be better if I were to accompany you. Major Kincaid could remain here and concentrate on the investigation." He could re-schedule his appointment with Dr. Curzon to this afternoon. She'd understand.

"Major Kincaid will accompany me," Zo'or said flatly.

Sandoval looked between the two of them. Ever since that near-disastrous interview two weeks ago, Zo'or appeared to be trusting Kincaid more and more. A good thing for the Resistance, he supposed, but Sandoval wasn't sure that he liked it that much. The way Zo'or was behaving, it was almost as though he was thinking of taking Kincaid away from Da'an, and making the Major his own Protector instead.

I wonder if this was why he was so agreeable about granting me a vacation...

"Of course, Zo'or," Kincaid replied obediently. "I have already been assigned a pilot until I heal, so we can leave as soon as I do a security review. I don't believe it will take more than ten to fifteen minutes."

"Excellent," Zo'or said, sounding quite pleased. "I will meet you at your shuttle then, Major."

Kincaid nodded and left the bridge. Sandoval stayed where he was, in the hopes of hearing a bit about whatever Zo'or was planning for the Major.

Leaning back in the command chair, Zo'or turned to face him. "That will be all, Agent Sandoval," he said firmly.

Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, Sandoval gritted his teeth and nodded. "I will be in my office if you need me," he said, and walked out.

I might as well get started on doing some digging into the Volunteers' personnel files. If any of them do have a connection to the gunman, we really need to find out as soon as possible.

And while I'm at it, I think I'll also do a bit more checking around... see if I can find out a few other things.

Liam paused in the middle of the corridor as his global beeped, and then slipped into one of the many alcoves in that part of the ship. Opening the global, he nodded as Augur's face appeared.

"Have you found anything?" he asked.

"Yes," came Augur's reply. "Nothing that'll help you find out who this guy is, though. According to the sensor logs, both sweeps were done, and done very thoroughly. I can't see how anyone could have gotten past them."

Liam opened his mouth to respond, and then stopped as he heard another voice. "Is someone there with you, Augur?"

"Yeah... Renee's here," the computer wizard replied. "Why?"

"I've got some information I'd like the two of you to check out," Liam replied.

A moment later, Renee appeared next to Augur on the screen. "What is it?"

"We've found out why the gunman didn't appear on the sensors," he said.

Augur blinked. "You did? Why? How did he do it?"

"We found a scrap of fabric at the scene," Liam explained. "Lieutenant Tanner, the Chief of Forensics for the Seattle PD, says that she's never seen anything like it before. Apparently, it's absolutely impenetrable to Taelon scans."

Renee's eyes widened in shock. "What? How the hell could someone get hold of that? It's under security so tight that not even a mouse should be able to get in without the alarms going off!"

Liam froze.

All right... I know Doors doesn't trust me - he's never trusted me, not since before I was born... and I know that Renee's been uncomfortable around me since I told her about my parents...

But if Doors International has come up with some sort of material that blocks Taelon sensor scans, they should have let me know! I am the leader of the Resistance - what's left of it, anyway - and this fabric could be a godsend for us!

I can't believe they didn't let me know!

"Are you telling me," he said carefully, "that you know what this fabric is?"

"It's a new project that Doors International has been working on," Renee replied, either not hearing or - more likely - ignoring the anger in his voice. "But it's under such tight security that no one should have been able to get at it. Maybe someone else has developed something that works the same way," she added hopefully.

"Tell you what," Liam said, trying very hard to control his temper. "I've got to accompany Zo'or to Africa; when I get back, I'll bring you a copy of the forensics analysis, and you can tell me whether or not it is the material Doors has been working on. Then, if it is, you can go find out exactly how someone who took a shot at Zo'or got his hands on it." And then, after that, you can explain to me exactly how many other projects you and Doors are keeping from me.

Hearing footsteps getting closer to the alcove he was in, he gave Renee a frown and then turned his attention back to Augur. "Thanks for the info, Augur; at the very least, it'll help us eliminate some lines of investigation. I've got to go now; like I said, I'll see you after I get back from Africa."

Closing his global, he slipped out of the alcove and continued toward the security office.

Renee walked into Doors' office and stopped in front of his desk, looking at him.

"Yes, Renee?" Doors asked after a moment, not looking up.

"Did you hear about what happened yesterday?" Renee demanded.

At that, Doors did look up. "Liam got shot," he replied calmly. "It wasn't serious, and Dr. Park informed me that he has already returned to duty. In spite of her advice."

"According to Liam, two security sweeps didn't pick up the gunman. One was done just about ten minutes before the attack itself. The sensors then somehow managed to miss the gunman's escape completely," Renee told him.

"That's nice," Doors returned, his tone saying that he couldn't care less. "Look, Renee, you should know perfectly well that I don't care if Zo'or ends up dead."

"Neither do I," Renee replied with a shrug. "But the point I'm trying to make, Jonathan, is that none of the sensors picked this guy up. Liam says a scrap of fabric was recovered at the scene, and that the forensics chief told him and Sandoval that this fabric is impenetrable to Taelon sensors."

Doors stared at her for a moment, finally reacting to what she was saying. "Are you trying to tell me that someone has actually used the vaile?"

"I don't know," Renee said. "Liam is going to be bringing me a copy of the forensics report when he gets back from escorting Zo'or to Africa, or wherever it is they're going. I'm hoping that it will turn out to be just a coincidence, but I'm worried that someone might have managed to get access to the vaile. If so, that means our security is thoroughly compromised, again. Liam is being forced to deal with one of our security breaches, again. I promised him after the fiasco with the Mneme machines that I'd tighten security on all our projects. He's not going to be happy."

Doors frowned. "Frankly, I don't give a damn about whether Liam is happy or not," he retorted. "But if we've had a security breach... get to the lab; find out if any is missing."

Renee nodded. "And what should I tell Liam?"

"Only what he needs to know," Doors snapped.

"Damn it, Jonathan. I'm tired of you putting me in this position," she said. "He's going to want reasons for why he wasn't told about the vaile from the beginning."

Doors sighed. "I have no doubt that he knows exactly why we kept it from him, Renee," he replied. "He isn't stupid. If need be, tell him that we wanted to make sure it actually worked correctly before offering it to the Resistance. After all, the effect is only temporary at present."

"Fine," Renee said. "Just make sure that all the records read that way as well. Augur wasn't any more pleased about this than Liam."

Doors nodded and returned his attention to his screen in an obvious dismissal.

Sighing, Renee left the office and headed for the executive elevator. Getting in, she punched a code on the keypad, and let the elevator whisk her down to the laboratory level - silently dreading what she would find.

Liam sighed as he listened to the discussion between Si'al - the Egyptian Companion - Zo'or, and the African premier. Si'al's Protector, Colonel Ahmid, looked almost as bored as he felt.

Meetings, meetings, meetings. When there wasn't something else going on that demanded his attention, or the possibility of a security threat, being a Companion-Protector could be one of the dullest jobs on Earth. Liam found these diplomatic meetings to be particularly boring, even if his being present for them had occasionally resulted in useful information for the Resistance.

Of course, most jobs are boring in some way or another, Liam reflected, shifting his weight a bit. His shoulder was starting to hurt again, as the painkillers he'd taken earlier wore off. He shot a surreptitious glance at his watch, and groaned silently when he saw the time. Ten-thirty. He couldn't take the next dose of painkillers for another half-hour... longer if the meeting didn't end before then.

Great, he thought sourly. If the painkillers were constantly going to wear off before he was allowed to take the next dose, the next few weeks were going to be exceedingly unpleasant.

It would be even more unpleasant if he and Sandoval couldn't find the gunman.

Then, suddenly, Zo'or was starting to stand up, and Liam realized that the meeting was over. It looked as though he wasn't going to have to wait to take the painkillers after all.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Premier," Zo'or said politely. He nodded to the Egyptian Companion. "Si'al."

"Zo'or," Si'al replied, nodding back.

"Come, Major," Zo'or continued, as he started for the entrance.

Liam trailed behind him, firmly pushing down his irritation at being spoken to like a well-trained dog. A large part of that irritation was simply a reaction to the pain he was experiencing; by now, he should be accustomed to the fact that that was how Zo'or saw all Companion-Protectors.

They had exited the Embassy and were starting around back, heading to the shuttle, when an energy bolt abruptly hit the ground in front of Zo'or.

Shit!

Liam reacted immediately, pushing Zo'or down behind a small clump of bushes that grew at the edge of the Embassy's lawn. He ignored the pain in his shoulder, concentrating on trying to locate where the attack was coming from as more energy bolts splattered around them.

He put his gun down on the ground for a moment and reached for his global - but before he got it open, the shuttle swooped over them.

Good going, Roberts! Liam thought. Grabbing up his gun again, he peered over the top of the bushes and the scant cover they provided and fired in the general direction he thought the shots were coming from. He couldn't aim very well using his left hand, but hopefully it would help keep their attacker pinned until they managed to get to the shuttle.

The shuttle landed just behind them, and Liam turned slightly to look at Zo'or. "Go!" he ordered.

Zo'or nodded and hurried toward the shuttle, keeping low. Liam followed him, dodging the shots that spattered the ground at his feet.

He flung himself into the shuttle, biting his lower lip as the impact jarred his collarbone. "Get us out of here!" he ordered.

Roberts didn't bother to respond out loud - his attention was all for the controls as they took off.

Pushing himself off the floor of the shuttle with his left hand, Liam winced and sat down in his seat, securing himself in. Dr. Park was going to be furious if he'd done any additional damage.

However, at the moment, he had more important things to concern himself with. "Roberts, did you get anything on the sensors?"

"No sir," Roberts replied. "The first indication I had that there was a problem was when the sensors picked up the energy bolts."

Liam nodded. Obviously, this was the same man who had shot at Zo'or yesterday - well, either that, or Renee and Doors were going to be in a hell of a lot more trouble than they were at the moment. "Quick thinking, bringing the shuttle around."

"Thank you, sir," Roberts replied. "I notified the mothership as soon as I saw what was happening," he added.

"Good job," Liam said, leaning back in his seat. Then he glanced over at Zo'or.

The Taelon did not look pleased; and yet, at the same time, Liam thought he caught a hint of satisfaction in Zo'or's manner - something that didn't exactly go with just having been shot at.

"Are you all right, Zo'or?" he asked. "None of the bolts hit you, did they?"

"I am fine, Major," came the calm reply.

Liam studied him for a moment longer, then gave up. Between the pain and the other problems occupying his mind, he wasn't up to figuring out what Zo'or was up to just at the moment.

And, speaking of other problems... Liam thought, how on earth did this guy know where Zo'or was?

Sandoval sat down on the examination table and waited patiently as Dr. Curzon scanned the results of the blood test she'd just run.

"Well, Agent Sandoval, I'm glad to report that you're doing fine," she said after a few minutes. "There don't seem to be any complications from the treatment."

"Good," Sandoval replied. He paused for a moment, and then took the plunge. "Dr. Curzon... there's something I need to ask you."

"Go ahead."

"The blood that... my son's blood. You mentioned that there were some gene oddities that the sequencer wasn't able to identify. What sort of oddities?"

Dr. Curzon frowned. "I'm not certain," she replied. "The report just mentioned the oddities, and I'm not enough of a geneticist to be able to identify them."

"Is there any way you can find out?" Sandoval demanded.

"Why?" she asked.

Sandoval took a deep breath and thought for a moment. Should he trust her?

Well, he'd trusted her quite a bit already; and so far, she hadn't betrayed anything he'd asked her to keep confidential. "I'm trying to find him," he admitted. "I was thinking that if I knew what those genetic oddities were, it might help in that search."

Curzon looked at him for a minute, and then nodded. "I kept a sample - all of what we didn't need for the treatment. There is someone who might be able to isolate and identify the oddities for you."

"Do it," Sandoval ordered. "But keep my name out of it - I don't want anyone finding out what's going on."

"All right. I'll let you know as soon as I get some results," she added.

"Thank you, Doctor," Sandoval said. "I... This means a great deal to me."

"Yes, I can see that," Curzon replied as Sandoval got off the table and pulled his jacket back on. He started for the door; but before he got there, she called out to him, "For what it's worth, Ron, once you find him, I think you'll make a great father."

A great father, Sandoval thought grimly, as he sat down in the shuttle. His pilot, Volunteer Nadine Brant, started powering it up, but he didn't pay any attention. That's... well, it's not funny - it's ironic. Tragically ironic. All the things I've done in service to the Taelons... what I did to Marquette... and Dr. Curzon thinks I'll be a good father?! I'll be lucky if the boy is even willing to see me once I find him!

Actually, that last thought wasn't really fair, Sandoval admitted to himself. The photos he'd been given suggested that his son would be willing to meet him; perhaps even wanted to meet him. But could a child really comprehend what he had done?

Think positive, Sandoval. Or, if you can't manage that, think of something else.

Major Kincaid, for instance.

Before he'd come down for his appointment with Dr. Curzon, he'd pulled the files on the Volunteers in Lt. Dietz's squad - including Corporal Roberts. Then, in the middle of doing that, he'd also managed to pull down what information both the FBI database and the Taelon mainframe had on one Major Liam Neville Kincaid.

It had made for a fairly slim file.

There was plenty of information - some of it heavily classified - about his various missions before and during the S.I. War; he'd received a number of citations and commendations throughout his military career. And there was a large amount of information on his activities since becoming Da'an's Companion-Protector (although there was nothing in the official files about his ties to the Resistance).

But there was absolutely nothing in there about what he'd been doing between the S.I. War and when he had become Da'an's Protector; and in terms of his personal life... the file contained his date of birth, his parents' names, the city he was born in, and his past and current addresses. And that was it. Sandoval knew more about the man's personal life than what was in that file - though not much more.

It wasn't enough.

He was going to have to resolve this somehow. Between his ties to Da'an and to the Resistance, Kincaid could be a very valuable asset. But not if Sandoval couldn't trust him. And so far, aside from saving his life a few times in the line of duty, Kincaid hadn't really given him any reasons to trust.

So, what now?

Before he could come up with an answer to that question, his global beeped.

Opening it, Sandoval was surprised to see Da'an's face. "Yes, Da'an?"

"Agent Sandoval, please return to the mothership at once," Da'an ordered.

Sandoval nodded to the Volunteer piloting him, and then returned his attention to his global. "Is something wrong, Da'an?"

The Taelon hesitated for a moment, and then shook his head. "Return to the mothership, Agent Sandoval," he repeated, and Sandoval's global went dark.

As soon as Volunteer Brant set the shuttle down, Sandoval got out of his seat. He hurried out of the shuttle bay and headed straight for the bridge. Something was wrong - something that Da'an didn't want to risk discussing on an open channel of communication.

He walked on to the bridge, and stopped.

Zo'or was seated in the command chair, looking... upset. Volunteer Corporal Roberts was behind him, and Major Kincaid was sitting at a console, his face pale and lined with pain. Da'an was hovering around Kincaid, his expression concerned.

"What happened?" Sandoval demanded.

Kincaid looked over toward him. "He tried again."

Sandoval blinked. "What?"

"The assassin was waiting for us when we left the African Embassy," Zo'or replied. "If not for Major Kincaid and Volunteer Roberts, I would have died."

"He was using energy bolts this time," Kincaid added, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "And it was the same guy - the shuttle's sensors couldn't detect him."

Sandoval's mouth tightened. This was not good. Not good at all. "Energy bolts?" he repeated.

Kincaid nodded slightly, and then winced in pain. "Yes," he replied instead.

"What I wish to know is how this person knew that we were there," Zo'or commented.

"Me too," Kincaid added. "The exact time of the meeting wasn't re-scheduled until this morning, right?"

"That is correct," Da'an said. A faint grimace crossed his face, but Sandoval was the only one who saw, as both Kincaid and Zo'or were looking at him. "Zo'or was most insistent that you be able to accompany him, Liam."

Zo'or looked irritated at this revelation; Kincaid looked surprised.

Sandoval decided to intervene before Da'an and Zo'or got too angry at each other. "Who else knew of the change in schedule?"

"The four of us, Si'al, Colonel Ahmid, the Colonel's pilot, the African premier and his chief of staff," Zo'or replied.

"As well as the Volunteers who were present on the bridge when the meeting was re-scheduled," Da'an pointed out.

"And whoever else any of them might have told," Kincaid added, his tone despairing.

Sandoval shot him an glare, irritated at the younger man's pessimism, and then moderated it a bit when he noticed that the Major looked to be in definite pain. He returned his attention to the two Taelons for a moment. "That will at least give us a start," he said firmly. "Major?"

Kincaid stood up gingerly, his right arm braced not only by the sling he was wearing, but also by his left hand.

"Report as soon as you find anything, Agent Sandoval," Zo'or ordered as they left the bridge.

"What happened?" Sandoval asked, as they started along the corridor toward his office.

"I pushed Zo'or down to avoid the first shot, and then ended up flinging myself into the shuttle, and hitting the floor," Kincaid replied. He winced. "I'm hoping that I didn't do any more damage - that it's mostly the fact that I need another dose of painkillers - or Dr. Park is going to have my head."

"Once we get to my office I'll get you some water," Sandoval said.

Liam sank down gratefully into a chair as soon as they entered Sandoval's office. His shoulder and collarbone were throbbing painfully; had been since he'd ended up on the floor of the shuttle.

"Here," Sandoval said, handing him a glass of water. Liam leaned forward carefully and put the glass on Sandoval's desk, then pulled the bottle of pills from his pocket.

Sandoval plucked it out of his hand. "How many do you need, Major?"

Liam blinked up at him, surprised. "Three," he replied after a moment.

Sandoval opened the bottle, took three out and handed them to him, then closed the bottle and put it down on his desk.

"Thanks," Liam said quietly, before putting the pills into his mouth and taking a sip of water.

Sandoval gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement and sat down behind his desk. "I've already pulled the files on Lieutenant Dietz's squad," he said. "There are a few things I think we need to look into. Then we'll check the security records to find out which Volunteers were on the bridge this morning when Zo'or made the re-scheduling arrangements."

"Sounds good," Liam agreed.

Then his global beeped. Opening it up, he was surprised to see Renee.

"Liam, I need to talk to you," she said.

Liam shot a quick glance at his father and silently debated what to do. Going strictly by the rules, he should really tell Sandoval about Doors International's possible involvement; but at the same time, he didn't want to expose Renee. "What can I do for you, Ms. Palmer?"

He saw the realization in her face that he wasn't alone. "If we could meet at your earliest convenience?"

Sounds like it was Doors' material... "All right; I'll call you when I'm available," Liam said, and closed his global.

Sandoval didn't ask any questions, which was a relief - although Liam wasn't sure whether it was because he was just being polite, or because he felt he didn't need to. Instead, he asked, "Why do you think our man switched to energy bolts?"

"I don't know," Liam replied with a sigh. "If my theory about the first attack being a warning was correct, the only thing I can come up with is that he realized Zo'or wouldn't take a warning. Other than that..."

"Or perhaps it wasn't meant as a warning," Sandoval said. "It does seem fairly obvious that Zo'or is the target; if it was one of the other people on the dais with you yesterday, the gunman wouldn't have attacked you this morning. Any other theories?"

Liam shook his head slowly. "None that I can think of right now."

"Then for the moment, let's concentrate on who might be leaking information." Sandoval passed five of the files on his desk over to Liam. "If anything jumps out at you, we'll call them in immediately."

Liam nodded and settled down in the chair. It was going to be a long day.

Dr. Curzon knocked firmly on the door.

"Come in!" called a voice.

Opening the door, Curzon peered in, making sure that her fellow physician was alone. Ascertaining that she was, Curzon walked in. "Hi, Julianne."

Dr. Julianne Belman, one of the premier microbiologists and neurosurgeons in the world, looked up from the screen she was studying. "Alice! Good to see you. How've you been?"

"Well enough," Curzon replied. She hesitated for a moment.

Dr. Belman spun around to face her. "Come on, out with it," she ordered gently.

Curzon held out the tiny vial of blood she'd kept from the mysterious donation that had saved Sandoval's life. "I've got a favour to ask of you. I want to know about this sample. I put it through the DNA sequencer, but it couldn't give me a full analysis - said there were some gene oddities it couldn't process."

"And you want me to take a look at it," Belman finished.

"If you could, I would definitely appreciate it," Curzon told her. "It's for a patient of mine - and it's rather important."

"All right," Belman said. She took the vial and looked at it. "I can't promise you an immediate answer - I've got something I'm working on right now - but I should be able to give you an analysis within two to three days."

"That would be fine," Curzon replied. "Thanks, Julianne."

"You'll just have to owe me one," Belman countered, grinning. "I'll see you later."

Liam blinked and rubbed his tired eyes with his left hand. He was exhausted and sore, and the past two hours of reading files hadn't helped any - especially when he hadn't found anything worth mentioning.

And the painkillers hadn't worked very well. He had the uncomfortable feeling that he had done some more damage to his shoulder when he'd dived into the shuttle, and he wasn't looking forward to telling Dr. Park about it.

"Found anything?" Sandoval asked.

"No, not a thing," Liam replied, sighing. He rubbed his right palm absently. "There's absolutely nothing here to suggest that any of them would be involved in something like this. They've all shown themselves to be loyal to the Taelons; no recent problems, either job-related or otherwise... There's nothing." He tossed the last file - Sergeant Barry Nicholls' - back on to Sandoval's desk and sighed again. "What about you?"

"I haven't found anything either." Sandoval leaned back in his chair and studied Liam for a moment. "You look like you could use a break, Major. You might want to check in with Dr. Park - have her take another look at your shoulder."

Liam rubbed his eyes again. "You sure? I mean, you're really supposed to be on vacation, Sandoval. I should be handling this--"

"Major... Liam," Sandoval interrupted, and Liam's head came up. Sandoval rarely called him by name, and almost never called him 'Liam'. "You're wounded, and, as Dr. Park and Da'an said yesterday, you are in no condition to handle heading up this investigation. Yes, I don't care for the fact that this interrupted my vacation, but I'd prefer to have no vacation and have you get better quickly than to take my vacation and come back to find that you'll be out for two or three months."

Liam stared, astonished by the open statement of concern.

"So why don't you pay a visit to the doctor, and then take the rest of the day off to rest," Sandoval continued. "All we would be doing for the next several hours is going through files and questioning the Volunteers, and I believe I'm capable of handling that well enough by myself," he added sardonically.

Should I? I think I do need to see Dr. Park - and I also want to find out what Renee's got, which I can't do while Sandoval's around...

"All right," Liam agreed after a moment. "But if you find anything, you'll let me know, right?"

"Of course."

Liam managed a smile as he stood up. "In that case, I guess I will go see Dr. Park. If nothing else happens, I'll meet you back here in the morning, okay?"

Sandoval nodded, dismissing him, and turned his attention back to the files he'd been going through.

Leaving Sandoval's office, Liam opened his global and called Roberts to ask the pilot to take him back to Washington. Once that was done, he braced himself mentally and called Dr. Park.

"Yes?" she answered, and then frowned when she saw that it was Liam calling. "What's wrong, Liam?"

"There was another attack on Zo'or," Liam replied. "I took a dive into our shuttle, and I think that I might have... well... done a bit more damage when I hit the floor."

Dr. Park sighed. "Where are you now?"

"On the mothership. Sandoval's ordered me to take the rest of the day off and to see you, so I'm coming back down in a few minutes."

"All right... Come to my office as soon as you get down here, and I'll see about getting you patched back up again."

Closing his global, Liam headed for the shuttle bay and found Cpl. Roberts already there, waiting for him.

"You can just take me down to the Embassy, and then have the rest of the day off, unless something comes up," Liam told him as he sat down in the passenger seat.

Roberts gave him a curious look.

"I seem to have done a bit more damage to my shoulder during the attack this morning, so my orders for the rest of the day are to see the doctor and then take it easy," Liam explained. "And since Agent Sandoval's assigned you as my pilot, I don't see any reason why you shouldn't have the rest of the day off as well."

Michael Roberts was a bit surprised by Major Kincaid's generosity. "But what if something happens?" he countered. There had already been two attacks on Zo'or so far, and if another one happened, the Major would need to have a shuttle available.

"If anything happens I'll call you to come pick me up," the Major replied. "But other than that, do take the rest of the day off. You earned it with that maneuver this morning."

Roberts flushed. Major Kincaid was an excellent pilot, one of the very best - the only one better had been Captain Marquette. For the Major to compliment him on his flying... "Thank you, sir."

"Like I said, you earned it," Kincaid said firmly.

Roberts turned his attention to the controls. With Major Kincaid on board, he wanted to ensure an absolutely smooth ride.

The appointment with Dr. Park had gone... well, it hadn't been too bad. She'd been upset with him, but the damage hadn't been too serious - he'd made the collarbone fracture a bit worse, but not too much so. She'd given him a stronger sling, increased the painkiller dosage to four tablets for the next two days, and told him to make sure that he didn't go hitting any more floors until he was completely healed. Then, after a moment's thought, she'd added a brace for his collarbone - because, according to her, she doubted that he'd follow her advice.

As soon as she finished with him, he called Renee and told her to meet him at the church.

When Liam got there, he found Augur absorbed in what looked like a computer game, and no sign of Renee.

"Where is she?" he demanded.

"I assume you're talking about Renee... And the answer is, how would I know?" Augur countered irritably, looking up from his computer. "Did you tell her that you were going to meet her here?"

"Of course I did," Liam replied, equally irritated - although not at Augur. "Besides, she was the one who wanted to meet me."

Augur nodded, then swiveled his chair around to face Liam. "Let me guess - about the sensor-impenetrable material, right?"

Liam nodded. "That's my guess, at least," he added quickly.

"Seems reasonable, considering that - according to the computers at Doors International - she filed a report a few hours ago about a top-secret project that had gone missing," Augur commented.

Liam sat down on the couch. "You hacked into Doors International? Don't you remember what happened the last time you did that?" Augur was still having the occasional fit about having to sell his paintings - and, of course, Renee never helped when the subject came up in her presence.

"I never get caught by the same thing twice, Liam," Augur declared arrogantly. "Besides, she expected me to do it."

Liam blinked in confusion. "She did?"

Augur nodded. "I would guess that she was the one who told Doors that he'd better change some of the documentation on this material of theirs - it's called 'vaile', by the way - to fit in with whatever story she's going to give you about it."

"Veil?" Liam repeated.

"Spelled v-a-i-l-e," Augur said. "Stands for some silly acronym that was probably created for the sole purpose of having a name that sounded like 'veil': Variable Amplitude Impedance of Life-form Emissions."

"Huh?"

"Like I said, it's silly. In fact, I'll bet you anything that Doors came up with it." Augur turned back to his computer. "Lucky for us, however, he isn't as good as Renee at covering his tracks."

"Then why didn't she do it?" Liam asked.

Augur shrugged. "Haven't a clue. If I had to guess, though, I'd say either she was too busy dealing with the theft itself to bother, or she's playing some kind of deeper game. Either way, there was some very interesting stuff left on there that Doors probably thinks he's managed to delete."

"Like what?" Liam asked, not getting up from the couch. He was still feeling tired.

"For instance, apparently the shielding effect of the vaile is only temporary," Augur answered. "Depending on the strength of the sensors applied to it, the effect lasts from about five minutes to half an hour; no longer."

Five minutes to half an hour. Even one minute could make a huge difference in the middle of a firefight. "Do you have any idea which sensors work best at defeating it?" Liam demanded.

Augur grinned, his expression one of glee. "That's the part that I think Doors is going to be most upset at not having deleted properly. A shuttle's sensors can detect it within ten minutes; less if the person operating them knows what he's looking for."

Liam stood up and started pacing back and forth in front of Augur, his exhaustion suddenly less important than his frustration. "In other words," he growled, "we would have had him already if Doors and Renee had bothered to mention this 'vaile' to me!"

"You would have what?" Augur demanded, alarmed. "What do you mean, you would have had him?"

"We were attacked when we were leaving the African Embassy earlier," Liam replied, still pacing. "He was waiting for us. And this time, he used energy bolts - which means that it's just gotten even more serious."

"Liam, bullets are serious," Augur said firmly. "They may not be able to kill Taelons, but they can kill you - or Sandoval," he added pointedly.

Liam waved his hand distractedly. "Using energy bolts means that he wants to kill Zo'or, not just warn him. This guy is really playing with fire, Augur. We've got to stop him before he accomplishes his goal."

The sound of the elevator descending cut him off, and he waited impatiently for it to stop. The doors opened, and Renee walked out.

"Well?" Liam demanded.

Renee looked a bit puzzled.

"You said you needed to see me as soon as possible," Liam continued irritably. "I've been waiting here for the past quarter of an hour, and all I really want to do is go home and get some rest. So why don't you tell me what you found out?"

Renee sighed as she came further into the room. She nodded a greeting to Augur, and then turned to face Liam directly. "A large quantity of the experimental material disappeared from a top-secret lab sometime over the past three days," she declared.

"So I guess you won't need the forensics report," Liam put in.

"No; unfortunately, it looks like it was definitely ours," Renee admitted. "I've got our security people working on discovering exactly how this happened."

"Well, you'd better hope they find something," Liam snapped. "This guy has had two shots already; I don't want him having any more!"

"Two?" Renee asked, looking surprised.

"Africa this morning, when Zo'or and I were leaving the Embassy," Liam replied shortly. "So, what are this material's weaknesses? How can we get past it?"

"Like I said, it's currently only in the experimental stages, which is why I've never mentioned it," Renee said.

Right, Liam thought grimly. And if you expect me to believe that, you know me even less than you think you do. "Go on."

"The material's effect is, unfortunately, only temporary at the moment - our scientists and technicians have managed to get it to the point where it will take about half an hour or so for Taelon sensors to detect and penetrate it - which is the other reason for not telling you about it. It won't do the Resistance much good until we can get the vaile's effect to last up to an hour."

"Vaile?" Liam repeated curiously, his tone innocent. No point letting Renee know that Augur had already gotten hold of this information.

"That's what the techs call it. It's an acronym for something or other."

"And what about its weak--" Liam started.

"Unfortunately, there's not much else I can tell you right now," Renee continued, ignoring his question. "I just wanted to give you the information, and assure you that we have got our best security people on it. As soon as I find out anything else, I'll let you know."

"Good," Liam said. He was astonished at how calm he had managed to sound, considering how furious he was.

Then again, considering the sheer number of times I've been betrayed by people - the number of times I've been betrayed by Doors and Renee - I suppose I've had lots of practice.

"So, have you managed to find anything new?" Renee asked.

"No."

"You'll let me know if something turns up?"

Liam just looked at her. "I'm sure you'll hear about anything we find." One way or another.

"Well, I've got to get back to work. The sooner we find out who did this, the better," Renee said, obviously realizing that Liam wasn't in the mood to talk to her. "We've got to stop this guy and get the vaile back before he alarms the Taelons too much."

"Too late," Liam muttered, as he watched her walk into the elevator.

As soon as it had started back up, he turned to Augur.

"I need you to make copies of those files you got from Doors International," Liam said. "The technical information about how to use the sensors to defeat the vaile's effect."

"Why?"

Liam thought for a moment before he answered. He wasn't sure how Augur would react - but he didn't want to lie. Not to Augur. Their relationship had been damaged by Augur's betrayal of the Resistance, but he was still, in many ways, the big brother Liam didn't really have. "For Sandoval," he replied after a moment.

"What?"

"Just in case," Liam elaborated. "If we get lucky, he'll never see it; but if things continue to go wrong, I want to have the information available so that I can give it to him if I think it's necessary."

Augur studied him for a moment, and then nodded. "All right," he said reluctantly. "Just make sure that you don't give it to him unless it's necessary."

"I promise," Liam replied soberly.

Augur worked quickly, getting all the files onto a disk and handing it to Liam. "Now, you should go home and get some rest," he said, eyeing the younger man. "You look terrible."

Liam couldn't help the grin that crossed his face. "Yes, 'Dad'," he replied obediently.

Augur laughed. "Go on, get out of here. And make sure you get some rest!" he added in a shout as Liam entered the elevator.

Dr. Julianne Belman stood up and stretched, wincing as her muscles complained about the length of time she'd been sitting in the chair. The project she was working on at the moment was fascinating, but she needed a break from it for a while.

Glancing around her office, her eyes fell on the portable fridge where she kept samples from various projects. The blood sample Alice Curzon had asked her to check out was there; it might just provide the break she was looking for. And getting it done so quickly could only enhance her reputation as a miracle worker.

She opened the fridge door and took the sample out, grinning. Alice Curzon had interned under her several years ago, and they'd managed to develop a friendship that had lasted ever since. They didn't get to see each other much any more - Julianne was always busy working on projects for the Taelons, and when she wasn't doing that she was working with the Resistance, and Alice had a full-time position here at Bethesda - but the friendship was still as strong as ever.

She said the DNA sequencer encountered some gene oddities, Belman thought, studying the small vial of blood. Bethesda has some of the most up-to-date equipment there is - but in some areas, I've got better. Genetics is one. So we'll start with my DNA sequencer.

She divided the sample in half and put one half back into the fridge, and the other into the sequencer.

Two minutes later, the results appeared on her screen.

It took Dr. Belman only a moment to recognize what she was looking at.

Oh my god... "Liam?!"

"Corporal Roberts... please, come in," Sandoval said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.

Roberts obediently sat down. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes, Corporal," Sandoval replied. "I apologize for having to call you back up here for this after Major Kincaid released you from duty for the day, but there are some questions I need to ask you. It shouldn't take very long, and you will be free to go as soon as we are finished.

"You are a member of the squad commanded by Lieutenant Dietz, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"So, you were present during the incident yesterday."

"Yes, sir, I was," Roberts said calmly.

"And what duties were you assigned?" Sandoval asked. He knew the answer, of course, but he wanted Roberts to tell him about what had happened in his own words, and the best way to do that was to lead up to it.

"My job was to handle the communications and help with the sensors in the security station, sir," Roberts replied.

"All right. Now, I'd like to know what happened from the moment your squad arrived in Seattle until after the shooting."

"We arrived about 0800 hours..." Roberts began.

Sandoval tuned him out. Both his CVI and his global were recording this; he'd be able to re-play it anytime. And when Roberts came to the part of his explanation about the search Kincaid had ordered, he'd start listening carefully again. For the moment, though, he had other thoughts to occupy his attention.

Liam Kincaid. The man was an enigma. The more Sandoval dug into his background, the more puzzling he became. The fact that he had disappeared during the S.I. War and that there was no record of him at all until his reappearance at Boone's funeral should have, at the very least, raised some eyebrows. Yet nobody had ever questioned - or even mentioned - it. Why? And what had he been up to during that time?

Within days of his reappearance, Kincaid had been firmly ensconced as Da'an's Protector. Why?

It didn't take a genius to figure out that Kincaid's sympathies had been with the Liberation since the beginning; Sandoval had no doubt that it was Kincaid who had drawn Da'an toward the Resistance.

On the other hand, there was definitely friction between Kincaid and Doors.

How had a man who was so at odds with the leader of the former Liberation movement become so well-established in the Resistance? Based on the information Sandoval had, the Major was, at the very least, the leader of the Washington cell... and possibly even the leader of the entire Resistance.

It didn't add up.

Resistance cell leaders were paranoid as a way of life; they had to be in order to survive. So how did someone with such huge gaps in his background - and who was as dedicated a Companion-Protector as Kincaid - become so trusted?

And for that matter, why had Da'an trusted him enough from their very first meeting to insist that Kincaid be made his Protector? Da'an had essentially offered Zo'or the opportunity to let the Jaridian replicant kill him in exchange for gaining Zo'or's support for that move. And Da'an and Kincaid had been close since the beginning, although Sandoval had noticed that their relationship had been getting more and more strained since the crackdown.

Then his ears caught the word 'shuttle', and he returned his attention to Roberts, putting aside those thoughts for later contemplation.

"...Then the shuttle arrived. Major Kincaid spoke to Lieutenant Dietz for a minute or two, and then Da'an and Zo'or came out and were greeted by Dr. Hutchinson," Roberts was saying. "I was working on communications, and Sergeant Tsue was keeping an eye on the sensors.

"About three minutes after they arrived, Major Kincaid hooked into the communications net and requested a security check. The Sergeant and I set the scanners for an overlapping grid pattern - just in case one of us missed something - and did a thorough sensor sweep."

"What about Lieutenant Dietz and the rest of the squad? Did they conduct a physical sweep?" Sandoval asked.

Roberts frowned at that. "I... don't know, sir. I assumed that they had, because when I checked with the Lieutenant, she gave the all clear, but I don't know for certain. She may have thought that there was no real point, since they'd just finished a physical sweep fifteen minutes before, and the sensors should have picked it up if anything had changed."

Sandoval nodded. "Then what happened?"

"After I received the all clear from Lieutenant Dietz, I informed Major Kincaid that the sweep had found nothing unusual. He seemed to be very relieved at that, but told me to keep my eyes open anyway. I did - both Tsue and I kept a close watch on the sensors - but the first thing we knew about what was going on was when the Major yelled that there was a sniper.

"We thought, since we hadn't picked anything up on the sensors, that he might have been just beyond their range, but also that he might pass through them while trying to make his escape, so we increased the power to the sensors and focused them on the area that the bullet had come from. But we didn't find anything."

"And what about this morning?" Sandoval asked. "What happened in Africa?"

"Again, sir, I didn't realize anything was wrong until the first energy blast. I'd gotten a head's up from one of the Volunteers assigned to the Embassy that the meeting was ending, so I was powering everything up, and then I heard the shooting. It wasn't hard to figure out what was going on, so I called the mothership to alert them, and then decided it might be a good idea to bring the shuttle over, just in case the Major needed some help in defending Zo'or.

"I brought the shuttle around the Embassy and found Major Kincaid and Zo'or behind some of the bushes they've got planted in the front. The Major was trying to fire at whoever was shooting at them, but he wasn't having much luck. Then, when he saw me in the shuttle, he got Zo'or to run over, and followed, laying down covering fire. As soon as they were both in, I got us out of there."

"Yes, so Major Kincaid told me," Sandoval said, leaning back in his chair and studying Roberts. "He was impressed with the way you handled the shuttle."

Roberts flushed slightly. "I'm not nearly as good a pilot as the Major is, sir."

"Perhaps not; however, Major Kincaid obviously considers your skills to be more than merely adequate.

"Did you see any sign of the attacker?"

Roberts looked momentarily confused at the sudden switch from complimenting his skills back to the interrogation, and then shook his head. "Not really, I'm afraid, sir. To be honest, I was concentrating on my flying. I wanted to make sure that I did a good job and got Zo'or and the Major out of there as soon as possible. All I do know is that it looked like the energy blasts were coming from a window in the building across the street from the Embassy - but that's kind of long range for that sort of weapon."

Sandoval nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you, Corporal Roberts," he said. "That will be all. Enjoy the rest of your day off."

Roberts stood up. "Yes, sir." He started for the door, and then paused. "Agent Sandoval?" he said hesitantly.

"Yes, Corporal?"

"Do you... do you really think that one of us might be involved?"

Sandoval looked at the Volunteer. He appeared to be genuinely concerned, and Sandoval was fairly certain that no one in the squad was involved, but... better to keep them on their toes, just in case. And if he was wrong... well, Sandoval firmly believed in giving people enough rope to hang themselves.

"I don't know, Corporal. That's what I'm trying to find out."

Roberts nodded and left.

Once he was gone, Sandoval relaxed into his chair.

Over the past several hours, he'd interviewed the members of Lt. Dietz's squad that had been sent to Washington with Kincaid when he'd been shot. So far, all of their stories added up. None of them knew why they hadn't done a physical sweep the second time, but all of them thought that Lt. Dietz had probably considered it a waste of time and effort. After all, none of them had really expected anything to happen.

No one had... except Kincaid.

And here we are, back to the puzzle again, Sandoval thought ruefully.

The Major was a skilled soldier, an Army Ranger - one of the elite; it was only to be expected that he would be more aware of his surroundings and have a better sense of danger than the average person. And yet...

Sandoval was reminded of Boone's funeral, and the way Kincaid had tackled Da'an before the Jaridian had fired on Quo'on, or even shown itself. It had been almost as though he had known what was going to happen.

Which is preposterous. I'm obviously too tired to think straight.

So far, none of the channels he'd tried had been able to get him the information he really needed to make his decision about Kincaid, and he'd tried all the official ones he could think of.

It was time to go outside the lines.

Opening his global, he tapped in a number that would link him into a secure communications facility. A moment later, a face appeared on his screen.

"Yes?"

"Andrew, this is Ron. I need you to do a favour for me..."

Liam opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling, breathing heavily. He didn't understand what it was about this dream that was disturbing him so much, but it was very definitely causing the terror he was feeling.

Why?

The only tangible thing in the dream was the dark human-shaped figure who...

Liam blinked in surprise as a sudden thought occurred to him. Could he be dreaming about the sniper?

That would certainly explain the feeling of dread that he kept getting. And it would also explain why the figure was faceless - at the moment, they still had no clue as to his identity, much less why he was gunning for Zo'or.

Sitting up gingerly, he shifted his sling to a more comfortable position and rubbed his eyes with his left hand. He hadn't meant to fall asleep when he'd gotten home from his meeting with Augur and Renee, but he must have been too exhausted to avoid it.

So what time is it now?

Glancing at his watch, Liam was surprised to see that it was almost eight o'clock at night.

Picking his global up from his bedside table, he opened it, intending to call Sandoval and get an update. But before he could do that, Augur's face appeared.

"Liam! Good, you're awake. You'd better get down here."

Judging from the noise and decor in the background, Augur was downstairs in the Flat Planet. "Why?" Liam asked. He didn't really feel like dealing with public attention at the moment - and the sling was fairly obvious.

Augur grimaced. "Dr. Belman's here. She wants to speak to you about something."

Dr. Belman? What could she want to talk to me about? "What?"

Augur looked exasperated at that. "How should I know?"

"Didn't she tell you?" Liam asked.

"'Didn't she tell me'," Augur repeated. "Of course she didn't tell me! Look, Liam, why don't you just come down here and talk to her yourself?"

Liam closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his face.

"Liam?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he said, sighing. "Tell her I'll be down there in about ten minutes."

Eight minutes later, Augur met Liam at the door to upstairs. He studied his friend critically for a moment.

Despite the fact that he appeared to have gotten some sleep, Liam still looked tired; his hair was tousled, making him appear younger than usual, and his eyes had the bruised look of utter exhaustion.

Augur frowned. "How long did you sleep for?"

"About five hours, more or less," Liam mumbled. "Where is she?"

"In the booth at the far end," Augur said, pointing to one of the private booths where his 'silent' partner was sitting.

Dr. Belman looked up as they arrived at the booth, and frowned at Augur. "Don't you have drinks to sell?" she asked.

Augur gave her a tight smile and sat down next to Liam. He'd promised himself that he would keep an eye on his friend, and he meant to.

"Augur said you wanted to talk to me?" Liam said.

Dr. Belman nodded. "To be more precise, I need to speak with you," she replied.

"About what?"

Her expression serious, Dr. Belman declared, "I need to know how Dr. Alice Curzon got a sample of your blood, Liam."

Looking at Liam, Augur saw his eyes flicker away. "What do you mean?"

Belman looked irritated at that. "Dr. Curzon and I have been casual friends for many years, Liam," she explained. "Generally, when she asks me for a favour, I'm more than happy to comply. This morning, she came into the office I maintain at Bethesda and asked me to take a look at a blood sample, see if I could figure out why the DNA sequencer was encountering what it classified as 'gene oddities'. She said it was very important.

"Earlier this afternoon, I decided to take a break from the project I'm currently working on and check it out. Imagine my surprise when the 'gene oddities' turned out to be Kimera DNA! Your DNA!"

"Doctor Curzon, you said?" Liam asked. If he hadn't known better, Augur might've been taken in by the innocent tone in his friend's voice; but he'd heard Liam use that exact same tone on Renee earlier, when he was pretending that Augur hadn't told him anything about the vaile. Liam knew exactly what this was about.

Belman didn't appear to notice the deception. "Yes. She's a doctor working out of the Bethesda Naval Medical Center.

"Liam, this is serious. We need to know how she got that sample! If the Taelons find out..."

"They won't," Liam said confidently.

Augur looked at him, suspicious. Liam should have been nervous about the very idea of the Taelons getting hold of a blood sample from him. That he wasn't meant...

Wait a minute... Liam's blood?

"Liam," Augur said carefully, "what was the name of Sandoval's doctor?"

Liam's eyes darted to him for a moment, and then away again. It was enough.

"Just over a month and a half ago, Sandoval ended up in hospital, in critical condition," Augur told Belman. Liam was looking down at the tabletop, doodling on the surface with one fingernail. "He had some sort of genetic blood disease. He needed hemologic factor from a first-degree relative - a parent or child. Liam sent in two pints of blood, anonymously."

"Sandoval's parents are dead," Liam put in defensively. "I don't have any brothers or sisters. And he's my father! I couldn't have let him die!"

"I'm not suggesting that you could - or even should - have, Liam," Augur said patiently. Renee's resistance to the very idea - her suggestion that they should concentrate on saving themselves and the Resistance rather than Sandoval - had gotten Liam's back up about his decision, and made him very defensive about the entire matter. "Remember, I helped you arrange it. But if this Dr. Curzon is trying to get an analysis of your blood..."

"I'll have to lie to her," Belman said.

Liam didn't respond.

"The question is, why?" Augur said thoughtfully. "Why does she want to know? Is it just medical curiosity, or is there something else involved?"

"All she told me was that it involved a patient of hers," Belman replied. "Alice believes very strongly in doctor/patient confidentiality; she won't tell me more than that even if I press her. And I don't want to do that."

"In other words, Sandoval might have asked her to have it checked out," Augur concluded.

Belman nodded slowly. "So, what should I tell her?"

There was a pause, and then Liam spoke up. "Can you give me a little while to think about it?" he asked.

"Yes; I told her that I might not be able to get to it for a few days. She said that was fine; she'd just like to know soon."

Liam nodded. "All right. I should have a solution for you some time tomorrow. Now," he added, yawning, "if you'll excuse me, I need to get some more sleep."

Augur watched as he got up and walked over to the door, and then turned back to Belman. "Just how serious is this?"

Belman's mouth tightened. "If the Taelons get hold of that sample? Very. I can't understand why Liam isn't more concerned about this."

Augur shrugged. "Neither can I," he replied. "But I'm going to find out."

Liam slipped out of his shirt and sat down on his bed.

He's looking for me.

It was all he'd been able to think since Dr. Belman had told him what was going on.

He'd been hoping that Sandoval would search for him, but had refused to allow himself to expect it. None of the memories he'd inherited from Sandoval - the ones he'd been able to access, at least - gave any indication of whether his father had wanted children or not. He'd known that his mother did - the longing for children had been a central part of Siobhan Beckett's life - but that hadn't helped him figure out Sandoval's feelings.

Nor had the suggestion that Ha'gel's image had made, when he'd been in that weird psychokinetic dimension - that he'd been the result of a biological imperative, not of a genuine desire for a child.

But Sandoval's search suggested that he did, indeed, want his son.

The question is, will he want me? I doubt that I'm what he's expecting. Maybe I shouldn't have given him those photographs...

Aaarrrgggghh! Stop second-guessing yourself, Liam!

In fact, if he thought about it, Dr. Curzon's effort to find out about the 'gene oddities' in his blood - probably his third strand of DNA, Liam guessed - could be a blessing, if handled the right way. He could have Dr. Belman plant the thought that Sandoval's son might be a hybrid - the truth, although Sandoval and Dr. Curzon would probably think in terms of a Human/Taelon hybrid, not a Human/Kimera one. Sandoval's reaction to that would dictate whether or not Liam continued with his campaign to let his father know who he was.

Satisfied with that decision, Liam lay down and closed his eyes. He'd think about what to have Dr. Belman say tomorrow morning.

Sandoval sat back in his chair, pulled his pocket watch out, and looked at it.

Nine-thirty.

He was tired. The past several months had been hard on him, and his illness had only made everything worse. The only thing that had kept him going - in the beginning, at least - had been the knowledge of how much depended on him doing his job.

Then he'd found out that he had a son, and suddenly the entire equation had changed. The job was no longer the overriding goal in his life; the existence of his son had taken its place. The job had gained in importance - he now had a stake in the results of what he was doing - but if it came down to a choice between his as yet unknown son and the job, the job could go to hell.

Rubbing his forehead, he opened Sergeant Tsue's file and skimmed through it. He'd finished questioning Tsue ten minutes ago, and had spent that time going over his impressions of the man - until his thoughts had gotten side-tracked.

Closing the file - there was nothing there that called attention to itself - Sandoval suddenly noticed a piece of paper on his desk. Picking it up, he was surprised to see that it was a list of the names of the Volunteers in Lt. Dietz's squad, along with their specialties. The scrawled handwriting had a vaguely familiar appearance, but Sandoval couldn't recall where he'd seen in before.

Then, after a minute's thought, he remembered seeing Kincaid using his left hand to write something down when they'd first gone through the files earlier in the day. He'd probably glimpsed the paper, and that was why it looked familiar.

Placing the notes on top of the pile of dossiers, Sandoval stood up and stretched. It had been a very long day, and it was now time for him to go home and get some rest.

Before he reached his office door, however, it opened, revealing Da'an standing in the corridor beyond.

"Da'an? What can I do for you?" Sandoval asked politely. What he really wanted to do was yell at the top of his lungs that he wanted to go home and get some rest, but that was hardly proper behaviour for an Implant.

"Have you found any further clues, Agent Sandoval?" Da'an asked. He sounded worried, Sandoval reflected.

"I'm afraid not, Da'an. I would have informed you and Zo'or immediately if I had. Is there anything else?"

Da'an paused, and then nodded slowly. "Yes, there is. Agent Sandoval, has Zo'or explained his sudden... interest in having Major Kincaid with him?"

Sandoval studied the Taelon thoughtfully for a moment, then shook his head. "No, Da'an, he has not. I assume it is because I am meant to be on vacation, and Zo'or had already arranged for the Major to deal with his schedule."

"Perhaps," Da'an said quietly, looking down. "However, it does not seem reasonable for Zo'or to have insisted that Major Kincaid accompany him this morning. Liam was wounded, and therefore could not be expected to be able to provide full protection."

"But he did," Sandoval pointed out.

"Yes," Da'an agreed, "but Zo'or could not have known this, which makes his insistence... puzzling. He has not shared his reasoning with me."

"Perhaps it is simply that Major Kincaid has proven that he can be trusted to save Zo'or, even at risk to his own life," Sandoval suggested. "First at that interview with Eli Hanson, and then yesterday, at the ceremony."

Da'an looked uncertain. "Perhaps," he repeated. "However, I am concerned. If Zo'or continues with this... insistence, despite Major Kincaid's injury, it becomes more likely that the assassin will succeed; and that both Major Kincaid and Zo'or will embrace the Void.

"My efforts at convincing Zo'or of this fact have, thus far, been unsuccessful. I would appreciate it greatly, Agent Sandoval, if you would attempt to make Zo'or see reason."

Sandoval blinked in surprise. This was something of an... interesting development.

"I can try, Da'an," he replied. "But I think it is unlikely that my efforts will be any more successful than yours. If Zo'or is determined to pursue this course of action, he will not listen to me if I try to deter him."

Da'an's hands moved gracefully. "All I ask is that you try, Agent Sandoval," the Taelon said calmly. "I will see you in the morning." He turned and walked away.

Sandoval watched until Da'an had disappeared around a bend in the corridor, and then heaved a sigh.

How am I supposed to tell Da'an that I think Zo'or intends to 'steal' his Protector? Should I? And is that really what Zo'or wants? Or is he after something completely different?

When exactly did my life get so complicated?

Turning around, Sandoval headed for the mothership portal station. He was going to go home, go to bed, and get a good night's sleep.

He knew that he was definitely going to need it.

Andrew Patterson leaned forward, whistling in surprise as he stared at his screen.

"This isn't possible," he murmured. "This just isn't possible!"

Frowning, he reached for his global and dialed a secure number.

Two minutes of trying later, Ronald Sandoval's face finally appeared on the screen.

"Andrew?" Ron mumbled, blinking blearily at him. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Four-thirty, if you're in Washington DC," Andrew replied.

"Right. Four-thirty in the morning. It's too early for me to be awake."

"Cheer up, Ron, I've got something for you."

Sandoval's eyes widened, his expression suddenly becoming more alert. "Already?"

"Yeah... I've been up all night working on this. You're right about one thing - this guy is a real mystery," Andrew told him. "And you know me... I adore a challenge."

"So what have you got?"

"There has been some major tampering with this guy's file, Ron. I've only scratched the surface so far; it's going to take me a while to dig down deep enough to get what you want. But this Major Kincaid of yours is definitely hiding something."

Sandoval looked exasperated at that. "I know he's hiding something. In fact, I know he's hiding quite a few things - some of which I'm unofficially aware of. But you still haven't told me what you've found."

"Well, when you told me that he'd been MIA for a while during and after the S.I. War, I figured that one of the first things I could try doing was finding out where he was during that time. So I got his brainwave pattern and his DNA and ran a quiet comparative search on all of Earth's databases. And you're never going to guess what I found out."

The look in Sandoval's eyes was rapidly changing from exasperation to irritation. "And what is that?" he demanded with apparent calm.

Recognizing the danger signs, Andrew decided to stop teasing his friend. "Well, unless Major Kincaid is actually Jonathan Doors, someone substituted Doors' brainwave patterns for Kincaid's real ones. I'd thought that he might have been a POW somewhere, and that my search would pick it up, but I never expected to find something like this!"

Sandoval's face went impassive. "Doors' brainwave patterns," he said slowly. "Well, that does explain a few things... Have you found any other anomalies so far?"

"Nothing definite," Andrew replied, leaning back in his seat and shooting a quick glance at his screen. "But at the moment, I'm just working from the public record. I'm sure I'll find at least a few more when I get into the military files."

Sandoval frowned thoughtfully. "Kincaid has a hacker friend, a man by the name of Augur," he said slowly.

"The Seer?" Andrew asked.

Sandoval's response was a shrug. "Could he have done this?"

"I don't know... that name does sound familiar - I've definitely heard of him before - but I can't place it just at the moment," Andrew said. "Well, I'll check it out while I'm figuring out how to crack the US Army's files."

"Be careful, Andrew," Sandoval warned him. "I don't want you getting caught."

"Unlike some hackers I've met, I know my limits, Ron. Getting caught is definitely not on my list of things to do. Listen, I'll call you as soon as I've got something else, okay?"

Sandoval nodded in agreement. "All right. If I'm doing something where I can't talk, leave me a message to let me know you called, and I'll get back to you."

"Right," Andrew agreed. Then he squinted at Sandoval's face for a moment. "You know what, Ron? You need to get some sleep. You look awful." He quickly closed his global before his friend could reply, and returned his attention to his computer.

Sandoval sat back down on his bed, still staring at his now-blank global. Andrew's parting shot had produced a minor flash of exasperation, a state the other man seemed to delight in producing in him; but it was overwhelmed by the implications of what Andrew had found.

He'd wondered how Kincaid had managed to avoid a psychotic episode when Zo'or had been attempting to find a way to rid himself of Da'an. Now he knew; it hadn't been Kincaid's brainwaves they'd been changing at all; it had been Doors'. And obviously the Liberation had found out about it - possibly from Kincaid - and managed to get Doors back to normal.

But why on earth are his real brainwave patterns not on file? It doesn't make any sense!

Sighing, Sandoval lay down. As he'd pointed out to Andrew, it was too early in the morning for this. He needed more sleep.

Shifting slightly, his eyes fell on the two silver-framed photographs that now occupied his bedside table. With any luck, Dr. Curzon would soon have some answers for him.

Holding that thought and the image of the young boy playing with the puzzle in his mind's eye, Sandoval rapidly fell asleep.

Zo'or dismissed the datastream with a wave of his hand. He had no patience for reports at this time.

Major Kincaid had saved his life - at the risk of his own. It was the second time in just over two weeks - the third, if one counted the shooting in Seattle on Wednesday.

It puzzled him. Major Kincaid had no CVI, no motivational imperative, and Zo'or had received the definite impression that the Major's loyalty was to Da'an personally, not to the Taelon race as a whole, as was that of the Implants - those Implants whose motivational imperatives were still functional, that was.

And Major Kincaid had also made it obvious on numerous occasions that he didn't like Zo'or at all.

So why had the Major saved him? What had motivated the human's reaction?

He'd been curious about Da'an's reactions to the Major from the very beginning. His parent's interest in the human had provided him with an opportunity to be rid of Da'an for good, as bait in a trap for the Jaridian replicant. And yet, somehow, Major Kincaid had managed to save Da'an using an inadequate weapon - he hadn't been given a CVI and a skrill at Da'an's insistence, although it had suited Zo'or's own goals at the time to agree to the radical departure from procedure.

What was it about this human that had Da'an trusting him so much, even going as far as to discuss Taelon evolution with him?

But Da'an's trust had been proven correct, time and time again. Even when the mothership had been hijacked by the replicant, and the evidence had convinced - or rather, provided the excuse for - Zo'or to place Major Kincaid under arrest, Da'an had been proven correct in the end. It had been the replicant who was responsible, not Major Kincaid; and it had been Kincaid's plan that had saved them.

And now this...

Zo'or didn't understand. And he wanted to.

Sandoval opened his door and smiled as he heard the sound of running feet. A moment later, a small whirlwind hit him around the waist.

"Father! You're home!"

Sandoval chuckled. "Yes, I'm home."

His son stepped back, and light grey-green eyes looked at him accusingly from under a tousled mop of curly brown hair. "You're late!"

"I know, son," Sandoval replied, crouching down until his eyes were level with the boy's. "I'm sorry, but something came up. I'll make it up to you this weekend, okay?"

The boy studied him for a moment, and then nodded. "Okay. But I want to go to the zoo."

"The zoo it is," Sandoval agreed. "Where's your mother?"

"I'm right here," came the reply, and Sandoval looked up to see Siobhan Beckett standing in the doorway to the kitchen, wearing a white turtleneck shirt and a black suit. "The imp's right, Ronald; you should have at least called to let us know you'd be late. Your dinner's gotten cold."

"I'm sure it's fine, Siobhan," he said, standing up. "So, what else has happened today?"

"Your son's discovered a new trick," Beckett replied, sounding a touch exasperated.

How come when he gets over-excited about something he's always my son? Sandoval wondered. He turned back to the boy. "You have? Can I see?"

Grinning proudly, his son held out his hands. "Look!"

And Sandoval stared as swirls of glowing white energy appeared in the centre of his son's palms.

Raising his eyes from the glowing shaqarava, he was shocked to find himself suddenly facing Liam Kincaid.

"Do you see, Sandoval? Do you understand?"

Sandoval jerked awake with a gasp.

The dream again.

It was always the same; different locations and times, but the same dream.

It always started out as Sandoval with his son. Then Beckett appeared. And then, at the very end, Kincaid showed up - and always with the same questions.

Always.

Kincaid's right - I need this vacation, he thought with a sigh, rubbing his face tiredly. I'm so exhausted that I'm starting to confuse my investigation of him with the search for my son.

Sandoval leaned back in his chair and frowned as he studied the pile of files and notes on his desk.

He'd managed to get almost three more hours of sleep after Andrew's call, and despite having another of the bizarre dreams that had been haunting him lately, he'd been feeling almost rested - until he had walked into his office.

Then he'd been faced with the fact that he still had to interview Lt. Dietz this morning, and Kincaid wasn't available to help out; the Major had left a message on his global stating that he had a possible lead on the source of the material the gunman had used, and wanted to follow up on it.

With a sigh, he reached for his global, intending to ask Captain Jardine to find Lt. Dietz for him. Before he picked it up, however, it beeped.

Opening it, he was surprised to see Dr. Curzon's face.

"Doctor?"

"Agent Sandoval," Curzon replied. "I have that information you wanted."

Already?

And why does she look so unsettled? "What is it, Doctor?" he asked.

Curzon took a deep breath, and let it out in a sigh. "You may remember that I said I knew someone who might be able to figure out what the genetic oddities were?"

"Yes, Doctor, I remember," Sandoval replied, a touch impatiently. "Were they able to help?"

Dr. Curzon nodded. "I took the sample to Dr. Julianne Belman - she's a good friend of mine, and I knew she wouldn't ask any questions about it. She just called me back.

"Ron... She said she wasn't entirely certain, but the anomalies in your son's DNA look almost like Taelon genetic material."

Sandoval froze.

Taelon?

"What does that mean, exactly?" he managed after a moment or two.

"I'm not sure, but from the way she said it, I got the impression that she thought the sample was from a Human/Taelon hybrid. I didn't even know that was possible."

"It is," Sandoval said, remembering Steven and Belle, and the babies that were currently being kept under Da'an's protection on the moonbase. My son is a hybrid?

"Did you tell Dr. Belman why you wanted the blood analyzed?"

"Of course not!" Curzon replied, sounding indignant. "You asked me to keep it confidential. And as I said, she won't press me for answers."

"Good," Sandoval declared. "Thank you, Doctor."

Curzon's expression became one of concern as she looked at him. "Are you all right, Ron?"

Sandoval paused for a moment, and then, with a mental shrug, answered her. "Yes, I am. It's just... finding out I have a son I didn't know anything about was a bit of a shock. This is a much larger one. But it doesn't really change anything." And it didn't. He'd need some time to absorb it, he knew... but whether or not the child he was searching for was a hybrid, the boy was still his son. That was the only thing that mattered. "Does Dr. Belman still have the sample, or did she return it to you?"

"She used it all doing the tests," Dr. Curzon replied.

Sandoval nodded thoughtfully. "Do you have any left?"

"No. We needed most of what was donated for your treatment. What I gave Julianne was all that was left."

"All right." He'd had a momentary hope that Dr. Curzon would be able to find out who his son's mother had been, who else the Taelons had chosen; but there were other ways to get that information. "Again, Doctor, thank you. I greatly appreciate your help."

"You're welcome."

Sandoval closed his global, and then leaned back and closed his eyes. And I thought that life was complicated yesterday...

What exactly had the Taelons - had Da'an - done? And when had they done it? And... why hadn't Da'an told him? He'd helped Da'an with the hybrid project, but he'd thought that Belle and Steven were the only results of it.

And, of course, this brought back the other questions... Who had arranged for the donation of his son's blood; and who had left the present in his office?

Liam glanced up from the magazine he'd been skimming through as the door of Renee's office opened and Renee and Jonathan Doors walked in. He almost laughed at the expressions on their faces when they saw him sitting at Renee's desk; would have laughed, if the situation and his mood weren't so tense.

The day hadn't gotten off to a good start; he'd woken up to a throbbing ache in his shoulder, one that hadn't yet gone away, despite the increased dosage of painkillers and the collarbone brace. Then he'd spent almost half an hour persuading Dr. Belman to tell Dr. Curzon what he wanted her to.

At least he had managed to convince her, though he had the feeling that she had figured out why he was so insistent on this. He just hoped that Augur didn't figure it out as well. He didn't think the computer hacker would be overly pleased about his plans.

After that, Liam had figured that it might be a good idea if he gave Sandoval a bit of time to absorb the news before showing up, so he'd decided to check up on Doors and Renee and see if they'd found anything yet. Showing up before Renee had just been a bonus.

"Liam," Doors said, in the tone of voice that Liam had come to hate. It was a tone that said that Doors was speaking to a child who had to humoured.

"Jonathan," he countered.

Renee frowned. "What are you doing here, Liam?" she demanded.

"My job," he replied, keeping his tone calm. "Do you have any idea yet how this guy got past your security to steal the vaile?"

"No, Liam, we don't," Doors declared. "As I'm sure Renee told you, we'll let you know as soon as we find anything."

"I hope you've got your best people on this," Liam commented, closing the magazine.

"Of course," Doors replied.

"Good," Liam said calmly, getting up and coming around the desk to stand in front of Doors. "Because I would hate to have to tell Sandoval about your little project."

"Is that a threat?" Doors demanded coldly.

Liam shrugged. "Take it however you want," he replied, and before Doors could add anything else, or threaten him in return, he walked out of the office.

That went well enough, he decided, as he headed down the street. Although not quite as well as I hoped it would... Though with any luck, he'd shaken both Doors and Renee up enough that they'd take this seriously.

He was well aware of the fact that neither of them would mourn if Zo'or died. In fact, he was pretty sure that most of the people he knew wouldn't mourn Zo'or, his father included. But that didn't change the fact that if Zo'or died, if he was killed by a human, the stalemate that existed at the moment would only get much worse for humanity.

For the time being, he'd do his best to avoid telling Sandoval about the vaile. Hopefully, he wouldn't need to at all.

Sandoval.

I wonder if Dr. Curzon's told him yet?

I wonder what he thinks? Will he still want me?

The sound of laughter interrupted his thoughts, and Liam looked up, only just realizing that he'd arrived at the park near the Embassy, the one Da'an liked to visit occasionally.

There were a group of children there at the moment, laughing and playing, and Liam found himself watching them enviously. All of them - except perhaps the toddler in the stroller over by the bench, next to her mother - were older than him; and yet, he was the one with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

It wasn't fair. His chance to have a normal childhood had been stolen from him by his heritage and the circumstances of his birth. He'd become Da'an's Protector in the naïve hope that he could serve as a bridge between humanity and the Taelons, and had found himself instead dealing with fear and betrayal on an almost daily basis.

And you're doing a remarkably good job of feeling sorry for yourself, Liam reflected with a sigh. Life wasn't fair.

All the same, he was envious of the children. They at least had a chance at a normal life.

Okay, Liam, stop brooding and get to work, he ordered himself. The sooner they found the sniper, the sooner Sandoval would be able to go back to his vacation, and the sooner Liam might just have a chance at a bit of that 'normal' life.

He hoped.

He started toward the Embassy, absently rubbing his right palm. It felt terribly itchy.

So, now I just need to figure out how I'll be able to tell how Sandoval's reacting, Liam figured, as he started across the street. It would be hard; his father was an expert at hiding his emotions behind an impassive mask. But he was sure he could do it, given enough time.

"Mister! Look out!" came the sudden shout from the playground, and Liam looked up in time to see a car heading straight for him. And speeding up.

Sandoval frowned as he studied the information on the screen. According to the records he was able to access from the Taelon mainframe, the hybrid project had never involved actually conceiving new children, only modifying children that had already been conceived - although not necessarily born. The conception of children specifically designed to be Human/Taelon hybrids had been Belle and Steven Hartley's idea.

However, it was possible that his son's existence was recorded in an area of the mainframe that he didn't have access to. He just hoped Zo'or did.

He was just about to use his copy of Zo'or's energy signature to access the secured files when his door slid open and Da'an walked in.

Under any other circumstances, Sandoval might have been pleased to see the North American Companion. But now, considering the information Dr. Curzon had given him, and the fact that Da'an had never mentioned anything about using his DNA in the hybrid experiments, he was more that a little upset with Da'an. And then there was the fact that he'd just been about to try breaking into secured files...

But with the ease of long practice, Sandoval was able to conceal his anger.

"How can I help you, Da'an?" he asked.

"I have a question, Agent Sandoval," Da'an said. "I have been thinking about what has happened, and I was wondering; have you arrived yet at an explanation for why this assassin was using bullets - which cannot harm a Taelon - at Wednesday's ceremony?"

Sandoval shook his head. "Not really, Da'an. Major Kincaid suggested that it might have been a warning, but the events of yesterday morning cast some doubt on that theory. Why?"

"There is another possibility," Da'an said quietly.

"What?" Sandoval demanded. Anything that could help them get an idea on where the sniper was coming from...

"You and Liam are both Companion-Protectors," Da'an said. "Because of that, you both automatically made the assumption that the assassination attempt was aimed at Zo'or."

Sandoval blinked in confusion. "Who else could it have been aimed at, Da'an? The same person--" Or people, he thought suddenly, in alarm, but managed to keep the thought off his face. "The same person is responsible for both attacks. If his target was someone else on the dais, he would not have attacked Zo'or yesterday."

Da'an's hands moved gracefully in the Taelon equivalent of a sigh. "Agent Sandoval, Zo'or was not the only person present at both incidents."

Sandoval stared at him for a moment, puzzled, before he realized what Da'an was suggesting. What?! "You mean... you think that Major Kincaid is the target?!"

"It is a possibility that should be considered, Agent Sandoval," Da'an pointed out. "Bullets are capable of killing humans, but will not harm Taelons. The fact that the person in question used bullets during his first attack suggests to me that his target was, in fact, human."

"And Zo'or just got in the way?" Sandoval asked in disbelief. All the evidence they had so far - which was very little - suggested that the assassin was a professional. It didn't make sense that he'd miss that badly.

Da'an shook his head. "As I said, Liam is a Companion-Protector. When he saw the reflection off the rifle scope, he assumed that it was Zo'or who was the target; so he moved to protect Zo'or. That may, in fact, be what saved his life."

Sandoval nodded slowly. Da'an's ideas made an uncomfortable - very uncomfortable - amount of sense. "Have you mentioned this to Zo'or?"

"No," Da'an replied, his tone curt.

Sandoval started to ask why, and then he remembered the scene from yesterday morning, and Da'an's comments and concerns last night about Zo'or's insistence that Kincaid be the one to accompany him to Africa.

It wouldn't be the first time that Zo'or had tried to have Kincaid killed, which supported Da'an's theory... but Sandoval didn't buy it. There were too many loose ends. He shook his head. "I don't think Zo'or is responsible, Da'an," he replied finally. "For one thing, he could quite easily have been killed yesterday morning. Besides, I don't think that he would support the development of anything that can defeat your sensors."

Obviously, that angle hadn't occurred to Da'an. "You are correct, Agent Sandoval - this material could become a serious problem, one that not even Zo'or would countenance." He looked relieved.

"I had better inform Major Kincaid of this possibility," Sandoval began, but before he could do anything, his global beeped.

Liam winced in pain as he stood up, hoping desperately that the brace had done its job and prevented any more damage.

He'd had only a split-second to react, and he'd flung himself backwards, onto the sidewalk and out of reach of the car, which sped away before he managed to get a good look at the driver.

Carefully brushing the dirt from the sidewalk off his jacket, he grimaced as he noticed a rip in the left sleeve, from where he'd landed. The amount of damage this jacket took...

"Are you all right?" said a young voice from behind him - the same voice that had warned him only a minute ago - and he turned to see a girl of about ten or eleven standing close by.

"Yes, I am, thanks to you," Liam replied, smiling at her warmly. "I appreciate your warning me."

Just then, a woman who was probably the girl's mother came hurrying up. "Kelly! What are you doing?" she demanded.

Liam turned to face her. "As a matter of fact, ma'am, she was saving me," he said. "If she hadn't warned me, I would have been hit by a car."

The woman looked at him, and Liam could tell the exact moment she recognized him. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Listen... Kelly, is it?" Liam asked.

The girl nodded. "Yes. Kelly Stevens. This is my mom." She frowned slightly. "You look familiar."

Liam smiled. "My name's Liam Kincaid," he returned.

Kelly stared at him. "You're Da'an's Protector?" she asked in awe.

"Guilty as charged," Liam replied, grinning at her. "Listen, Kelly - have you ever been in a Taelon Embassy?"

"No," Kelly replied.

Liam looked at the girl's mother. "Mrs. Stevens... would it be all right for Kelly to visit the Embassy for a tour in a day or two - as a thank you for saving my life?"

"Cool!" Kelly exclaimed. "Can I, Mom?"

"I... I suppose," her mother replied, still looking a bit shell-shocked.

"Here's my card," Liam said, carefully extracting one of the cards from his pocket and handing it to Mrs. Stevens. "When you want to visit, just give me a call - it has my number embedded - and I'll leave word with the guards to let you in and give you the first-class tour."

"Thanks!" Kelly exclaimed. She then grabbed her mother's arm and started pulling her back toward the park. "Just wait till my friends hear about this..." Liam heard her saying as they walked away.

He spared another smile in their direction, and then turned his attention back to what had just happened.

He was fairly certain that the hit-and-run attempt had been deliberate. The car hadn't been trying to slow down when he'd seen it - it had been speeding up. And he'd managed to notice that the license plates had been covered in mud, keeping the plate itself obscured; which meant that the only way to identify the car would be by make, model and colour. His memory - a gift from the Kimera side of his ancestry - would be able to recall that information with no problem, but there were thousands of identical cars built every year.

Looking around carefully before crossing the street this time, Liam quickly made his way to the Embassy. There were no signs of any other attempts on his life, but he kept his attention on his surroundings; it was much better to be safe than sorry.

Luckily, there were no reporters around the Embassy today; Liam felt even less like giving an interview than he had yesterday.

He nodded an acknowledgement to the Volunteers on duty, and headed straight for Da'an's office and his desk. It was the one room in the entire Embassy that was guaranteed to be secure.

As soon as he sat down, he opened his global and called Sandoval.

"Yes?" Sandoval replied curtly, and then his eyes narrowed. "Major. I was just about to call you... What happened?" he added suddenly - probably noticing the rip in Liam's jacket.

"Hit-and-run," Liam replied. "I managed to get out of the way just in time. I think... I think it may have been deliberate, Sandoval. The car sped up when the driver saw me, and I was already in the way... and the license plate was covered in mud, so I couldn't read it."

Sandoval exchanged an alarmed look with Da'an; the Taelon's suggestion was sounding more and more plausible every moment.

"Major," he said, "Da'an has come up with an alternate theory concerning the assassin's actions on Wednesday - one that your report tends to support. He thinks that we may have been wrong about the target; that it may be you the assassin has been aiming for, not Zo'or."

Kincaid looked shocked. "Me?" he demanded. "Why would someone try to kill me - while putting Zo'or in serious danger at the same time?"

Well, he'd never thought that Kincaid was stupid - merely brash and impulsive. "It is unlikely that Zo'or is responsible, Major," Sandoval said calmly. "He would never agree to anything involving the level of security risk that this mysterious material does."

An expression flickered across Kincaid's face, but it was gone before Sandoval had a chance to recognize the emotion. "You're right," the Major agreed. "So, my question still stands - why would anyone want to kill me?"

"We'll have to figure that out," Sandoval returned. "For the moment, however, it would be wisest to act on the assumption that both you and Zo'or are targets. Zo'or will be staying on board the mothership; you should consider doing the same, Major."

For a moment, Kincaid looked as though he was seriously contemplating the idea. Then he shook his head. "If I am the target, I'm also the best chance we have of flushing this guy out," he pointed out.

Sandoval frowned. His instinctive reaction was to order Kincaid up to the mothership and put him under close guard, to make sure he didn't endanger himself; and he had no idea why. It should have been one possible reaction, but not the immediate one. In fact, his immediate reaction should have been to agree. Kincaid was right: he was the best possible bait. "Major..."

"You know I'm right, Sandoval," Kincaid said stubbornly.

Sandoval looked at Da'an again. The North American Companion looked as reluctant as he felt. Then an idea occurred to him.

This might just be the opportunity I've been looking for...

"I'll agree to this - on one condition, Major," he said.

Kincaid looked wary. "Condition?" he questioned. "What condition?"

"Until we find this assassin and stop him, you have a bodyguard with you at all times."

Kincaid's eyes narrowed. "Don't you think you're going just a bit overboard here, Sandoval? If this guy really is after me, he's already had three tries, and the only thing that's happened to me is that I have to wear this sling and brace for a few weeks."

Sandoval kept his expression firm. "That's the condition, Major."

"Come on, Sandoval!" Kincaid complained. "I've got work to do! Work that I won't be able to do with a Volunteer hanging over my shoulder!

"Da'an, talk to him!" Kincaid added, his tone pleading.

"I do not believe it is an unreasonable suggestion," Da'an said calmly.

Kincaid stared at Da'an in disbelief. "You... you... you what?" he sputtered.

"This assassin is a threat, Liam," Da'an explained. "If you are indeed his target, and he has failed to kill you three times so far, he will become more desperate. And from what I understand of humans, the more desperate someone is, the more dangerous he is."

"Da'an... you know I've got work to do that I can't do if I've got a Volunteer tagging along with me. Some of the people I need to talk to don't really like Volunteers that much..." Kincaid protested. "Wait a minute," he added after a moment, his expression brightening slightly. "I've got Corporal Roberts - my pilot. He's a Volunteer, and has already proven that he can think quickly under fire."

"Actually, Major," Sandoval put in calmly, "I wasn't thinking of assigning a Volunteer. And I don't think that a pilot - one who would have to stay with the shuttle - really qualifies."

Kincaid blinked. "So who did you have in mind?" he asked.

"Me," Sandoval replied calmly.

Kincaid stared at him for a moment, obviously startled. But before he could voice the protest Sandoval could see forming, Da'an spoke up.

"An excellent idea, Agent Sandoval," the Taelon declared, sounding pleased. "I will arrange it with Zo'or."

Kincaid was starting to look a bit panicked at this point. "But Da'an..."

"I must insist, Liam," Da'an said firmly. "Agent Sandoval, you will prepare to leave immediately. Liam, you will remain in the Embassy until Agent Sandoval arrives."

"But..."

"This is an order, Liam."

Kincaid sighed in resignation, but he definitely didn't look happy. "All right. I'll see you when you get down here, Sandoval," he said, and closed the connection.

Sandoval turned to Da'an. "Thank you for supporting me in this, Da'an."

Da'an met his eyes. "Keep Major Kincaid safe, Agent Sandoval. That is all I ask."

Sandoval nodded in acknowledgement.

Liam closed his global and stared blankly at his desk for a minute.

This... this was going to be a problem. Having Sandoval hanging around... well, for one thing, all Resistance matters were going to have to be put on hold. That was going to be trouble.

And if the assassin was after him...

Why? Why would anyone want to kill me?

Well, actually, considering that Zo'or's tried several times, and the entire Synod would probably want me dead if they knew the truth, perhaps the question should be: why would anyone other than the Taelons want to kill me? It doesn't make any sense!

...It would put his father in more danger as well.

Then another thought occurred to him. With Sandoval hanging around, he wasn't going to be able to do anything about the matter of the vaile without letting his father know the truth, which meant that he was going to have to tell him.

Which meant that he'd better give Augur a call before Sandoval got here.

Augur looked up as his global beeped. Opening it, he was surprised to see Liam on the small screen. Then he noticed the condition of the kid's jacket, and frowned. "What happened, Liam?" he demanded.

"You sound just like Sandoval," Liam muttered.

Just like Sandoval? Augur thought in disbelief. Is he trying to be insulting? "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," he replied.

Liam sighed. "Augur..."

"What happened?" Augur repeated.

"A hit-and-run," Liam answered. "This car came out of nowhere and tried to run me down. I was lucky - a kid who was playing in the park nearby saw it before I did and warned me. I managed to get out of the way in time."

"You know, Liam, it occurs to me that you might just be going a little overboard with this protecting Zo'or thing."

"I'm not the one going overboard," Liam muttered.

"I don't know about that," Augur countered. "I mean, so far Zo'or hasn't even been touched; you seem to be the one getting all the injuries."

Liam fidgeted slightly. "Well..."

"What is it?" Augur demanded. He had a bad feeling about this...

"Da'an and Sandoval have a new theory," Liam replied after a moment, his tone reluctant. "They seem to think that the assassin's target isn't Zo'or."

"Then who...?" Augur started, and then stopped. "You. Da'an and Sandoval think the assassin's actually after you?"

"Yeah," Liam admitted.

Augur studied him thoughtfully. Considering everything that had happened to Liam since Wednesday morning, it did make a great deal of sense. "So what are you going to do about it?"

Liam looked disgusted. "Sandoval gave me a choice: I can either be confined on the mothership for my own safety until this guy is caught, or I get a bodyguard - him. And Da'an backed him up, which means that it's take it or leave it - no compromises. Sandoval's going to be my shadow until this is over."

"Cheer up," Augur suggested. "Maybe this will give you two a chance to talk."

"What do you mean?" Liam asked, giving him an innocent look.

Augur shook his head, not fooled. Dr. Belman had given him a call earlier this morning and filled him in on what Liam had told her to tell Dr. Curzon. Putting that together with the other things Liam had been doing and saying about Sandoval, it had been obvious where it was leading. "Your 'orders' to Belman weren't exactly subtle, Liam. It wasn't hard to figure out what you're up to. I just hope you know what you're doing, because if Sandoval figures it out and tells the Taelons..."

"He won't."

Augur shrugged. "Whatever you say, kid." He wasn't as certain as Liam was about it, but he obviously wasn't going to be able to convince Liam that it was much better to be safe than sorry, especially when dealing with Sandoval. Well, he'd already decided that he was going to keep a close eye on the kid - now he just had one more reason to add to that list. "Now, what were you calling about?"

"I wanted to let you know about Da'an's theory and orders, first of all - with Sandoval hanging around, I won't exactly have much of a chance to see you until this is over; and... I'm going to tell Sandoval about the vaile. We have to figure this mess out, and that means that Sandoval is going to need all the information we've got. Besides, it's now going to be him co-ordinating my security, instead of me co-ordinating Zo'or's."

Augur heaved a sigh. He didn't like the idea of giving Sandoval any information about what Doors was up to - but the kid was right. It was now Liam's life on the line, and that was not something that he took lightly. "All right, tell him. I'll warn Renee."

"Thanks, Augur. Tell her that I'm going to imply to Sandoval that the effect the vaile has on Taelon sensors is actually an inadvertent side-effect of what the material is actually supposed to do - that should help ease Sandoval's suspicions. And also let her know that I'm going to need to keep a low profile for the next little while, until this situation is over and done with.

"Oh," Liam added suddenly, "there is one more thing. I want you to check out my records, see if anyone's accessed them over the past two to three weeks. And set up some sort of flag, something that will alert you if they get accessed from now on. If Da'an's theory about me being the target is right, then I'm pretty sure that this guy must have at least tried to get information on me. If I'm right, and they have been accessed, see if you can find out who's done it."

"Got it," Augur said. "I'll call you as soon as I know something."

"Good," Liam said. He paused, and then added, "Augur... thanks."

Knowing that Liam wasn't thanking him for agreeing to the job, Augur said simply, "You're welcome," and closed his global.

Grabbing some food from his fridge, he quickly made himself a sandwich, and then sat down at the computer. Turning to his hologram, which was currently based on Lorna Greene, the famous Canadian actress, he said, "All right... let's get to work, shall we?"

"Whatever you say, Augur," Holo-Lorna replied. She tapped rapidly on a keyboard. "There have been eight accesses of Major Kincaid's public records over the past three weeks, and five accesses of his military records, as well as four unsuccessful attempts."

"Looks like we have our work cut out for us," Augur said, and turned his attention to his computer screen. He frowned thoughtfully. "Start by checking out those four attempts at accessing his military records," he ordered. "They should be the easiest ones to trace."

"Starting access trace," Holo-Lorna said calmly.

Taking out his global again, Augur took a deep breath, and let it out in a sigh. Time to call Renee... Let's just hope she won't have a fit.

Liam looked up from the paperwork he'd been trying to do for the past ten minutes as he heard Sandoval's voice out in the hall, talking to one of the Volunteers.

Absently rubbing his palm, he wondered how he was going to handle this. Not telling Sandoval about the vaile - he'd already decided what he was going to say about that, including something that would hopefully convince Sandoval that Doors International's creation of the vaile was innocent. No, the main problem was going to be dealing with his father on a constant basis until they found the gunman, while at the same time not revealing his secrets. Yes, he'd been dropping a lot of hints, but he didn't feel ready to give Sandoval the full truth, not yet.

And I still don't know how he's reacting to Dr. Curzon's news - she must have called him by now. He shook his head. Okay, Liam, stop this. Either he'll accept it or he won't. Nothing you can do is going to change that. Concentrate on the gunman. Once that's taken care of, then you can worry about Sandoval.

Sandoval walked in, and Liam's attention fixed on his father. And suddenly, another question occurred to him. Why did Sandoval decide that he should act as my bodyguard? It was his suggestion, and he was the one who insisted on it - I could've convinced Da'an that if I had to have someone guarding me, Corporal Roberts would be perfect. And despite the fact that we've started to become friends - I think - Sandoval still doesn't really care for me. So why has he suddenly volunteered to spend all this time with me?

"Major," Sandoval acknowledged him. "I didn't have a chance to ask you when you called - did you manage to find anything?"

Liam shook his head. He wasn't going to tell Sandoval about the vaile right away - he'd give Renee some time to come up with something before bringing Sandoval down on her and Doors. "Not yet," he replied. "The lead I was following petered out, but I have got some people looking into this for me. With any luck, I'll get some answers from them fairly soon. What about you? Any luck?"

Sandoval shook his head as he walked over to the window that looked out over the city. "I've interviewed everyone from Lieutenant Dietz's squad except the Lieutenant herself, as well as the four Volunteers who were on the bridge when Zo'or made the arrangements with Si'al and the premier. They all came up clean.

"The squad members all agree that nothing showed up on the sensors - which we already know - and they all think the reason Lieutenant Dietz didn't have another physical sweep done was because the first one was finished only fifteen minutes before you, Zo'or and Da'an arrived."

Liam nodded slowly as he thought about it. "Well, considering that none of us knew about the material before this mess, it isn't really all that unreasonable," he said.

Sandoval turned to face him, his expression dark. "That should not have made a difference, Major," he disagreed. "You are a Companion-Protector, and you gave them an order - one that dealt with issues of Companion security. Whatever she might have thought about it, the fact remains that in not conducting another physical search, Lieutenant Dietz disobeyed an order from a superior officer."

Liam opened his mouth to protest, and then closed it. As much as he would prefer not to get Lt. Dietz in trouble, the fact was that Sandoval was right. By not instigating the physical search along with the sensor sweep, she had disobeyed the order he had given. And that disobedience had cost them; it was possible that if the Volunteers had conducted the physical sweep, they would have caught the gunman before any of this had happened.

"So what are we going to do?" he asked.

"We still need to interview Lieutenant Dietz," Sandoval replied. "I don't believe that she provided the gunman with either assistance - knowingly, at least - or information, but we need to know her reasoning for not conducting the physical search, not just the assumptions of her squad. I've already ordered Captain Jardine to find her and send her here.

"We also need to come up with some plan to flush out the assassin without putting you in too much danger," he added.

"I'm fresh out of ideas," Liam said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. His shoulder was hurting - if this kept up, Dr. Park was either going to put him in a body cast or forcibly hospitalize him; his palms were itching; and he was developing a horrendous headache.

I just want everything to go away, he thought, a touch wistfully. I want...

I want to be able to tell Sandoval the truth, and have him tell me that everything's going to be all right - even if it's not. I want to be able to hug him and get hugged back. I want - just for a little while - to be Sandoval's son. Not Da'an's Protector, not the leader of the Resistance, not Major Kincaid... just Liam.

Why is that so much to ask?

"Major?" Sandoval inquired.

Liam opened his eyes and looked up at his father. "Just thinking," he mumbled. He rubbed his palms together, careful not to jar his right arm or shoulder - the left one was starting to itch as well.

"About what?"

Liam blinked in surprise, and then realized that Sandoval probably assumed that his thoughts had something to do with the investigation. Sorry to disappoint you. "That I'm tired." It was the truth, though not the whole truth. "I didn't get much sleep last night because of the pain."

Sandoval gave an understanding nod. "I hate to say this, but at the moment, I don't have any ideas either. Our best bet is probably to interview Lieutenant Dietz, and then worry about what to do next."

"In other words, I can go back to my paperwork until the Lieutenant gets down here," Liam concluded.

Sandoval gave him a faint, surprising grin. "You may even manage to make a dent in it."

"That's probably pushing it a bit far," Liam admitted, "but at least I'll have a bit less to do later on. I just hope you've got something to keep you occupied as well, or we're going to drive each other crazy."

A strange expression flickered across Sandoval's face. "Yes, Major, I have some things to do. If you have no objections, I'll make use of the office next door."

Liam shrugged his left shoulder, and then reminded himself not to do that again as agony lanced through his right side. He waited a moment to make sure that his voice was under control, and then said, "No objections whatsoever. Even with this material, I doubt this guy will be able to get into the Embassy, especially since all Volunteers on duty have been warned about it. Aside from the mothership, here is probably the safest place for me to be."

And besides, if you're not in here constantly looking over my shoulder, I might just be able to pull this off...

"All right," Sandoval agreed. "I'll join you back here as soon as Lieutenant Dietz arrives."

Renee's lips tightened as she studied the screen in front of her.

It had happened again. Someone had taken a project under her supervision and messed it up. It was bad enough that the vaile had been stolen to begin with... but to have that very same stolen material used during a very public assassination attempt...

Renee was honest enough to admit that she'd shed no tears if Zo'or were to be killed - in fact, she'd probably even go so far as to nominate the person responsible for a medal - but not in a situation that involved anything that could be linked back to Doors International!

What was worse was that - according to Augur - the new working theory was that it wasn't Zo'or who was the target at all; it was Liam. There was no way in hell that she was going to allow anybody to use one of her projects to kill the leader of the Resistance.

And, of course, the icing on the cake... Liam, of all people, was bringing Sandoval down on their necks because of this.

It had not been a good week.

She sighed and tapped a code into the computer, bringing up the security records for the past two weeks. She'd review the security records one more time before changing tactics; regardless of what she had to do, she was going to get to the bottom of this.

She focused her attention on the records for Lab 15, and began running through them.

Half an hour later, Renee's eyes narrowed in satisfaction as she studied the figure displayed on her screen. Now let's find out who you are.

The intruder had known about most of the security systems around the lab areas, and had managed to circumvent them quite neatly; but he hadn't known about the extra hidden cameras that Renee had a habit of installing in the labs that dealt with Resistance projects. As a result, they'd actually managed to catch him in the act of stealing the vaile.

Okay, be a good little thief and turn just a bit this way...

She advanced the security record frame by frame, and a moment later a triumphant grin crossed her face as the thief turned so that he was facing the camera. Gotcha!

Studying the face on the screen, she frowned. The man looked familiar. She'd definitely seen him somewhere before. The only question is... where?

Thinning blond hair, dark eyes...

Her frown deepened. He wasn't a Doors employee, she knew that - but for some reason, the memory of him seemed to be connected to Doors.

Coming to a decision, she picked up her global and opened it, calling Jonathan.

"Yes?" Doors demanded.

"I've got a picture of our thief, Jonathan," Renee told him. "He looks familiar, but I can't quite place him. I'm sending you the image; do you know who he is?"

Doors' expression hardened as he saw the image. "I think you'd better get up here, Renee," he said.

That translated as, 'it's not safe to talk about it in the open'. Renee pursed her lips. "All right, I'll be right up."

Closing her global, she exited from the security program and was just about to stand up when her global beeped.

Sighing, she opened it - and gave Liam a furious glare. "What is it?" she demanded coldly. Liam was the last person she wanted to deal with at the moment.

"Just wanted to advise you that I'm about to tell Sandoval about the vaile," he replied.

"Are you really that crazy, Liam?" she snapped. "You tell him about it, and you're putting all of our necks in the noose."

Liam didn't look at all impressed by her vehemence. "Didn't Augur tell you my plan?"

"Oh, right, just tell Sandoval that the vaile's effect on Taelon sensors is actually just a side-effect. He's really going to buy that," Renee returned sarcastically.

Something flickered across Liam's face. "You never know," he replied calmly.

Renee shook her head. "I think this is a really bad idea, Liam. Listen, I've managed to get a picture of the thief - it turns out that he didn't know about my extra security precautions. I don't think it will take me too long to find out exactly who he is. You can give Sandoval that information."

"And how will knowing who he is enable us to catch him before he attacks again?" Liam demanded. "If he has the vaile, he can evade us easily - unless we know how to defeat its effect." He gave her a pointed look.

Renee's mouth tightened. Obviously Jonathan hadn't managed to delete or hide all the files on the vaile - Liam's expression made it clear that he knew about the shuttle sensors.

"Liam, the vaile can help the Resistance greatly - but not if Sandoval and the Volunteers know how to defeat it!"

"Maybe you and Doors should have thought of that earlier," Liam said coldly. "Much earlier. It's too late now.

"Sandoval and I will probably be there within the next hour or two. Have your story ready by then," he added curtly, and closed the channel.

Renee looked at the blank global screen for a moment or two longer, and then shut it with a snap.

This had been a really bad week.

And it looked as though it was only going to get worse.

Da'an stood on the bridge of the mothership, looking out the virtual glass window at the Earth.

"You wished to see me, Da'an?" came Zo'or's voice from behind him.

Da'an turned to face the other Taelon. "Yes," he replied.

"About what?"

Da'an moved his hands rapidly, though still with innate grace, the speed broadcasting his agitation. "Agent Sandoval and I believe that these attacks were not aimed at you, Zo'or."

Zo'or looked... startled; not the startlement of being caught out, but rather that of genuine surprise. The expression lasted only a moment, replaced quickly by the haughtiness that his child usually displayed, but it was there long enough for Da'an to see it, and feel relieved. It appeared that Agent Sandoval's belief that Zo'or was not involved was correct.

"I do not understand how you could come to that conclusion, Da'an," Zo'or said then. "It appears obvious that this unknown human - probably a member of the Resistance - was attempting to kill me."

"Why, then, did this assassin use bullets in Seattle, Zo'or?" Da'an countered. "There may be some humans who are not aware that bullets cannot harm us, but both Agent Sandoval and Major Kincaid believe this assassin to be a professional. As such, he must know that bullets would be ineffective."

"I believe Major Kincaid had a theory concerning that," Zo'or said dismissively, turning and sitting down in the command chair.

"He believed that it might have been a warning," Da'an agreed. "But the events of yesterday and today have led us to believe otherwise."

Zo'or turned back to face him, looking impatient. "And what is this theory that you and Agent Sandoval have come up with?" he said, a touch of scorn in his voice.

Da'an was rather surprised at that. When dealing with humans and human behaviour, Zo'or tended to at least listen to Agent Sandoval's suggestions, even if he chose not to follow them. To hear him dismiss Agent Sandoval's ideas that way...

It was... disturbing.

Nonetheless, he forged ahead. "We believe that the target may be Major Kincaid," he said. "There was an incident this morning - a car attempted to run the Major down; a car that had all identifying marks concealed. Combining this attempted... 'hit and run', I believe the human term is... with the earlier use of bullets in Seattle, it becomes increasingly more likely that the assassin is targeting Major Kincaid."

Zo'or looked thoughtful. "It is a possibility," he conceded after a moment's thought. "Have you or Agent Sandoval discussed it with Major Kincaid?"

"Yes," Da'an replied. "Agent Sandoval is currently with the Major; he will be acting as Liam's protector until this is resolved."

Liam hadn't been happy about that, Da'an knew; his Protector had been almost frantic in trying to convince both himself and Agent Sandoval that it was not a wise idea. And under most circumstances, because of Liam's involvement with the Resistance, Da'an would have agreed. But this was not most circumstances; Liam was in danger, and Agent Sandoval was the one most likely to be able to protect him.

Zo'or's expression was unreadable. "I see," he said calmly. "Have they made any further progress in identifying the culprit?"

"I do not know," Da'an replied. "As of this morning, they had not."

Zo'or nodded. "Very well. Thank you for the information, Da'an," he said, and turned the command chair away.

Da'an watched him for a moment or two longer, and then turned back to the view of Earth.

He was worried. A human would have no reason to kill Liam, unless he was a supporter of the Taelons who knew of Liam's ties to the Resistance. Even then, the most likely course of action would be to inform the Taelons, not attempt to kill Liam himself - and certainly not in a way that threatened Zo'or. It made no sense.

And he was concerned for Liam. Yes, they had their differences; but they believed in the same goals. And although the Hartley twins had proven that it was possible to create Human/Taelon hybrids who possessed shaqarava, Da'an still felt that Liam was the best hope for both their species.

Da'an put one hand against the window as he turned his attention to the view. He could only hope that Liam and Agent Sandoval managed to identify this man quickly, before he attempted once again to kill Liam.

"You recognize him, don't you," Renee said, as soon as she had closed the door to his office.

Doors looked up from the screen he'd been staring at. "What makes you say that?" he demanded.

"Oh, come on, Jonathan, don't give me that," Renee returned, sitting down opposite him. "The very fact that you asked me up here to discuss it says that; and even if it didn't, I told you his face looks familiar. I've seen him somewhere before - somewhere with you."

Doors sighed. "You're right," he admitted reluctantly, after a moment. "You have seen him with me before."

"So who is he?"

Doors took a deep breath, and then turned his screen so that Renee could read the information on it.

There was a pause, and then...

"Oh, my God..." Renee breathed.

Doors nodded in agreement.

"He's after Liam, you know."

Doors stared at her. "What?" he demanded. "What do you mean, he's after Liam? He's been trying to kill Zo'or."

Renee shook her head. "According to what Augur told me, Da'an and Sandoval are pretty convinced that Liam's the target, not Zo'or. And Augur thinks that they're right."

"But why would he be after Liam, damn it?" Doors demanded.

Renee shrugged. "For the same reason we'd both like to see Sandoval dead?" she suggested. "After all, as far as the world at large is concerned, Liam is a Companion-Protector.

"Oh, and speaking of Companion-Protectors - and Liam and Sandoval in particular," she added hurriedly, "we've got another problem to deal with."

Sandoval stared at the screen in frustration.

He'd just spent almost an hour going through all the Embassy's secured files, and had found no mention whatsoever of his son.

There had been a great deal about the hybrid project, from the preliminary notes and observations of the Hartley twins to the discovery of the babies and results of the tests that were being carried out at the moonbase... but there was nothing there that Sandoval didn't already know about.

Leaning back in the chair, he sighed. Because of Da'an's interruption and the revelation that Kincaid was most likely the real target of the assassin, he hadn't had a chance to investigate the mothership's mainframe - but then he'd thought about it, and realized that any records of the project would probably be stored at the Embassy. It had been Da'an's project, after all. But neither his access codes nor Zo'or's energy signature - which he'd made very careful use of - had revealed any hidden files about the project.

About his son.

Closing his eyes, Sandoval took a deep breath. It was still hard for him to believe that he had a son, although the fact that he was still alive was definitely proof; and, as he'd said to Dr. Curzon this morning - Was it only this morning? he thought with a touch of disbelief. It feels like it's been days since then... - the fact that his son was apparently a hybrid was a huge shock.

He'd left the pictures at home - the last thing he wanted was to call attention to them - but he could see them perfectly in his mind's eye thanks to his CVI.

How old is he really? Sandoval wondered. The hybrid babies on the moonbase appeared to be - physically - about 1-1/2 years old right now, although they were actually only a few months old. Had his son aged the same way? If so, how old had he really been when the second photo had been taken? And how old did he appear to be now?

Opening his eyes, he looked at the screen again. Nothing had changed.

He was just about to try linking up to the mothership's mainframe when the door of the office opened and Kincaid poked his head in.

"Sandoval..."

"Is Lieutenant Dietz here?" Sandoval asked.

Kincaid shook his head. "No, not yet; but I've just received some information that I think you should know about."

"Oh?" Sandoval inquired.

Kincaid nodded as he came into the office. "I just got a call from one of my contacts," he explained. "He did some digging, and, well... he managed to find out a few things."

Sandoval's eyes narrowed as he studied the Major. Kincaid didn't look overly pleased with the news he was delivering.

"What sort of things, Major?" he demanded.

Kincaid took a deep breath and then let it out in a sigh. "The material - it's called vaile - is the project of someone at Doors International. He wasn't able to find out who. From the information he managed to acquire, a large quantity of it was stolen five days ago."

"Doors International?" Sandoval commented thoughtfully. This was an interesting development.

Of course, he'd also be interested in knowing exactly how long Major Kincaid had been aware of this information.

Kincaid nodded. "Yes. The good news is that the protection it provides from Taelon sensors is strictly temporary. According to what he told me, if you know what you're looking for, a shuttle's sensors can penetrate it in less than ten minutes. It's apparently a side-effect of whatever the original research was about."

"A side-effect," Sandoval repeated. He didn't believe that for a moment; not with Jonathan Doors involved. He couldn't help but wonder if Kincaid really thought that he would be fooled by that.

Kincaid nodded again. "I don't know what the original research was on; that information wasn't included either. But I've got the technical information here," he held up a small disk, "including how to defeat it. If he attacks again, it will still take the sensors a few minutes to penetrate the vaile; but if we can keep him contained that long, we'll have him."

"Good," Sandoval said, plucking the disk from Kincaid's hand. He studied it for a moment, and then looked back up at the Major. "As soon as we finish with Lieutenant Dietz, Major, I think we need to pay a visit to Ms. Palmer and Mr. Doors."

"All right," Kincaid agreed, and Sandoval was surprised to see a faint hint of satisfaction in his expression.

Interesting...

Just then, Sandoval's global beeped. Opening it, he saw Captain Jardine. "Yes, Captain?"

"Sir, I'm on my way with Lieutenant Dietz. We should be arriving at the Embassy within the next fifteen minutes."

"Good." Closing his global, Sandoval looked at Kincaid. "You heard, Major?"

Kincaid nodded. "How are we going to handle this?" he asked.

"I'll ask the questions," Sandoval replied. "You listen - and watch her carefully. As I said, I don't believe she is involved; but I may be wrong."

Liam leaned back in his chair and watched Sandoval pace around as they waited for Captain Jardine and Lt. Dietz. He wondered if his father even realized what he was doing - the pacing was a nervous habit from before Sandoval had been implanted. He knew about it from Sandoval's memories, but he'd never seen his father do it before. Not even when Zo'or was in a bad mood.

But then, he'd been seeing a lot of uncharacteristic behaviour from Sandoval over the past three days. All the concern his father had been showing... it was strange.

And yet, Liam had to admit to himself that he'd been soaking it up. It seemed to indicate that Sandoval was starting to consider him a bit more than just a very annoying colleague. And being friends was definitely better than nothing.

He absently rubbed his left palm with his thumb as Sandoval continued pacing.

Despite what both Renee and Sandoval seemed to think, he didn't expect Sandoval to actually believe the story about the vaile's effects. But Liam had the definite feeling that Sandoval would act as though he believed it, and that was all that was needed. He only hoped that Renee could come up with something that was at least plausible - after all, they were going to have to provide an explanation for the Taelons.

Renee...

He was going to have trouble with her. He just knew it. She was furious about Sandoval being told, and Doors was only going to be worse. But, for the most part, the situation they were in was one of their own making. If they had bothered to tell him about the vaile before any of this had happened...

He sighed softly. If only, he thought ruefully. Turn all the 'ifs' into gold, and we'd all be millionaires - right, Mother?

His thoughts were interrupted as Lt. Dietz appeared in the entrance to the room. He sat up, straightening in his chair.

"Agent Sandoval, Major," she said, saluting. "You wanted to see me, sirs?"

Sandoval stopped pacing and turned to face her. "That's right, Lieutenant. I have some questions for you about the incident on Wednesday."

"Yes, sir."

"You told me that you conducted a physical search of the hospital and surrounding area before Major Kincaid, Zo'or and Da'an arrived, correct?"

"Yes, sir, that's correct," Lt. Dietz replied.

"How long before they arrived was the search completed?"

"Approximately ten to fifteen minutes, sir."

Sandoval walked toward her. "And what area did you search?" he demanded.

"Me personally, sir?" Lt. Dietz asked. When Sandoval nodded, she replied, "The roof of the hospital and the top two floors, sir. Sergeant Nicholls assisted me in that."

"And did you see any sign - any sign at all - of the sniper, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir!" Lt. Dietz replied sharply.

Liam watched as Sandoval nodded and started to circle around behind the Lieutenant; it was an interrogation technique his father tended to use when he was suspicious of something - or when he wanted to intimidate. And it was intimidating; Liam could testify to that from personal experience.

"And what did you do when Major Kincaid ordered another sweep, Lieutenant?" Sandoval demanded.

Lt. Dietz was starting to look a bit nervous now. "I... I ordered a sensor sweep, sir," she replied.

"Just a sensor sweep?"

"Yes, sir," the Lieutenant replied, swallowing.

"And why was that, Lieutenant? Why didn't you order another physical search as well?"

Lt. Dietz took a deep breath. "I didn't feel it was necessary, sir," she replied. "After all, the sensors were active; they should have detected anything unusual. A sensor sweep should have been sufficient, and the ceremony was due to start in less than ten minutes. There wouldn't have been enough time to conduct a thorough physical search in any event. And we would not have reached the roof before the sniper fired."

Judging from the look on his father's face, Sandoval wasn't too pleased with her answer. Lt. Dietz was trying to justify herself; not something Sandoval - or Liam, for that matter - approved of.

"I don't believe I asked you whether you would have been able to find the sniper, Lieutenant," Sandoval said coolly from directly behind her. "My question was why you didn't order a physical sweep."

"Because the sensor sweep should have been sufficient, sir," Lt. Dietz repeated.

"And yet, Major Kincaid ordered a full security sweep, Lieutenant. It was not up to you to determine what was or was not sufficient."

The Lieutenant stiffened. "Yes, sir," she said, her tone flat.

"Disobedience of a senior officer is a very serious matter, Lieutenant," Sandoval continued, coming around to face her. "Disobedience of a Companion-Protector, when dealing with issues of Companion Security, is even more so. And in this instance... your negligence may have resulted in the sniper escaping."

"I understand, sir."

"Good," Sandoval declared. "I will be raising this matter with your immediate superior; he will decide on the appropriate discipline.

"You are dismissed, Lieutenant."

Lieutenant Dietz saluted them both, then turned on her heel and marched out.

"I think you're right, that she isn't involved," Liam said after a minute, leaning back again. "Yes, she may have been in the wrong about doing the second physical sweep, but her reasoning was sound."

"I agree," Sandoval said, and sighed. "As I said, we'll let her superior - Captain Masters, I believe it is - deal with the matter of her disobedience of your orders. I'm sure he'll be able to come up with a suitable form of discipline." He looked at Liam. "For the moment, I believe that we have a visit to make - to Doors International."

Liam nodded, standing up. Doors was going to have a fit.

Remembering earlier this morning, he couldn't help the faint grin that crossed his face. If this entire situation hadn't been so serious, he would be really looking forward to the coming confrontation between his father and Doors. They really didn't like each other.

But it was serious - deadly serious, he thought, the grin disappearing as he followed Sandoval out of the office. And if Da'an and Sandoval were right... he was the one for whom it could become deadly.

It wasn't a pleasant thought.

Andrew frowned as he studied the picture on his screen. This couldn't be right!

Pulling the main file up again, he stared at it, and then switched back to the picture.

Shaking his head, he leaned back in his chair. "This is weird. Really, really weird," he muttered. "It doesn't make any sense!"

He stared at the screen for a moment longer, and then sat forward. He was going to get to the bottom of this, no matter what.

Looking at the picture again, Andrew shook his head slowly. "Looks like your Major Kincaid is hiding even more than you thought, Ron..."

Sandoval sauntered into Jonathan Doors' office, followed by Major Kincaid, and smiled grimly when he saw Doors and Palmer both waiting for them - Doors sitting at his desk, and Palmer leaning against the wall behind him - presenting a unified front that was, for once, not going to work. He and Kincaid were in the right here, and everyone in this meeting knew it.

He was mildly surprised at how it felt to go into this confrontation secure in the knowledge that he had Kincaid's full support; Resistance ties or not, Kincaid was upset with both Doors and Palmer - his actions made that obvious. It felt good to be working together for a common goal.

"Agent Sandoval," Doors said, standing up - he appeared to be pleased, but Sandoval could tell that he was faking it. "Major... I was just about to call you."

Well. That was a surprise. Assuming it was true, of course.

"Oh?" Sandoval inquired.

"Please, sit down," Doors continued, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. Sandoval thought for a moment and then sat, but Kincaid ignored the other chair and walked over to the window, peering out.

Sandoval frowned. Was Kincaid determined to ignore all security precautions? "Major..."

When the younger man turned to face him, Sandoval gestured pointedly at the chair. Kincaid hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the window; then seemed to remember that he was the target of an assassin and, assuming a chastened expression, he obediently walked over and sat down.

Sandoval, satisfied, turned back to Doors. "You were just about to call us?" he repeated.

"Yes." Doors sat down and leaned forward. "It seems that one of the high-security labs was broken into a few days ago, and the project currently in development in that lab was stolen."

Interesting... Sandoval thought, surprised. He hadn't expected Doors to introduce the subject of the stolen material. Let's see where he goes with this... "What sort of project was this?"

"The scientist involved was working on developing a cloth that appeared almost like virtual glass," Doors replied. "It started out as being a minor project for him - fashion design is a hobby of his - but when it was discovered that he had created something with very unusual properties, we had it moved to the high-security section."

"Unusual properties?" Sandoval questioned.

"Yes," Renee Palmer answered, frowning. Sandoval had no doubt that she hated having to tell him this; from what he'd seen of the information Kincaid had given him, this material could prove to be a huge boon to the Resistance. "Some part of the process he used to create the cloth provided it with the ability to block Taelon sensor scans. At the moment, we still don't know how he did it."

"I see," Sandoval said slowly. "Are you certain this is not what the scientist intended from the beginning?" The implication was quite clear to everyone present.

Doors looked indignant at the question, but Sandoval ignored the obviously false emotion. Doors wasn't fooling him in the slightest; this was very obviously an act put on for his benefit.

"Of course I'm certain!" Doors snapped. "I've broken my ties to the Resistance, Agent Sandoval."

Considering the fact that his CEO was heavily involved in the Resistance, Sandoval didn't believe that for a minute. But he didn't let it show. "And why were the Taelons not informed of the development of this material?" he demanded.

Doors sighed. "Because, as Ms. Palmer said, we have no idea how it happened. We wanted to investigate the process first, so that we could give Zo'or a more complete report."

Sandoval didn't believe that either, but hopefully Zo'or wouldn't be as suspicious as he was.

Then Kincaid leaned forward in his chair - most likely trying to get them off the topic of why they'd kept the material a secret. "You said it was stolen? By whom?"

"I have no idea of the person's identity, Major Kincaid, but we did manage to capture him on a hidden security camera. Ms. Palmer?" Doors added, gesturing to her.

Palmer turned the computer screen so that it was facing them and pushed a button on the keyboard, and an image appeared.

The man shown on the screen appeared to be tall - although it was hard to say, because the camera had caught him at an angle - with thinning blond hair, a lean frame, and dark eyes. It was a familiar face, though Sandoval couldn't say exactly who it belonged to - familiar in a very disturbing way.

Then he noticed the date-stamp in the corner of the image, and frowned. "Ms. Palmer, this occurred on Monday. Why are you informing us only now?"

"Because we only just found out," Palmer said irritably. "Whoever this guy is, he managed to evade all of our security systems. The only reason we even have this image is because I've taken the precaution of installing hidden cameras into our high-security labs; cameras that only Mr. Doors and I know about. As a result, we didn't know that anything had happened until Dr. Morneaux came back from his vacation yesterday morning and discovered that his lab had been broken into during his absence. I wanted to have at least a bit more information than that to give you, so I've spent the past twenty-five hours going through all of our security records."

"I see..." Sandoval said thoughtfully. "We'll need a copy of this picture."

"Of course," Doors said.

At Sandoval's nod, Kincaid took out his global and downloaded the image from the screen.

Sandoval looked at Palmer and studied her narrowly for a moment before continuing. "Does this material have any weaknesses?"

"Weaknesses?" Palmer repeated.

"Yes. You said it can block Taelon sensor scans - for how long? Is there any way to defeat it?"

There was a pause, and then Doors picked up a small disk and handed it to him. "Here," Doors said coolly. "This contains the information you need."

Sandoval took it and stood up. "Thank you, Mr. Doors," he said politely. "Major..."

Doors watched as Liam gave himself and Renee a nod before following Agent Sandoval out of the office. His eyes narrowed in anger. "Get Dr. Morneaux up here," he ordered Renee. "I want him moved to the Arctic facility immediately."

Renee nodded in agreement. "What about our intruder?" she asked, gesturing to the screen. "What are we going to do about him?"

"Let Liam and Sandoval deal with him," Doors snapped. Right now, he didn't really give a damn if the alien brat got himself killed. "They want him, they can have him.

"Now, I want to see Dr. Morneaux; we've got to get him out of here before Sandoval decides to start probing further."

Renee nodded and left the office.

Doors sat back in his chair and looked at his computer screen for a minute. Shaking his head, he spoke to the screen. "Well, you've really gone and done it now."

"I have that list for you, Augur," Holo-Lorna said suddenly, interrupting Augur just as he was about to start eating his lunch - a proper lunch, not the sandwich he'd grabbed earlier.

With a sigh, Augur put his fork back down and walked over to his computer. "All right, what does it say?"

"You're not going to like this, Augur," the hologram said, shaking her head.

"Just give me the list," he ordered.

A list of names appeared on the screen in front of him. Scanning down, he frowned slightly as he saw that the bottom name was blinking. "What's that?" he demanded, pointing to it.

"That particular person has tripped the flag you set up on Major Kincaid's military record," Holo-Lorna informed him. "The access was dated 1230 hours today."

Augur looked up at her in surprise. "That was two and a half hours ago!" he exclaimed. "Why didn't you let me know when it happened?"

"You were busy at the time," Holo-Lorna replied calmly. "As well, it took me over an hour to trace the access back to its source."

"Which was...?" Augur prodded.

"The FBI computer lab at Quantico," came the reply. "The same source also accessed Major Kincaid's public records yesterday."

"Are there any other sources who have accessed both?" Augur demanded. FBI... that could mean a great deal of trouble for Liam.

"Three," the hologram replied. "Agent Ronald Sandoval of the FBI, Lieutenant Colonel Gary McKenna of the US Army Rangers, and one other that I am currently in the process of tracing."

Augur nodded slowly. "Listen, I want everything we can get on both Lieutenant Colonel McKenna and this," he peered at the screen, "this Andrew Patterson. And as soon as you find out the identity of the other person, on them too," he ordered.

"Right," Holo-Lorna replied. "Beginning search now."

Augur returned to his lunch, but he was too distracted to get much enjoyment from it.

I have a bad feeling about this... Sandoval, the FBI, and the Army... What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into now, Liam?

Zo'or looked up from the display he'd been reading as Agent Sandoval and Major Kincaid walked onto the bridge. Neither looked entirely pleased, but Agent Sandoval appeared to be... satisfied about something.

"Agent Sandoval, Major Kincaid... have you made any further progress?" Zo'or asked.

"Yes, we have, Zo'or," Agent Sandoval replied. "We have obtained an image that is most likely that of the assassin - or, at the worst, of one of his associates."

"Excellent," Zo'or declared. "How did you obtain this information?"

Major Kincaid shifted slightly, but it was Agent Sandoval who answered. "It seems that the material that the assassin used to hide from our sensors was an accidental discovery of a scientist working for Doors International."

Zo'or frowned. Was Jonathan Doors continuing his work with the human Resistance?

"They were keeping it in a high-security lab while they attempted to discover exactly how the scientist in question had created it," Agent Sandoval continued. "I was informed that Mr. Doors and Ms. Palmer intended to file a complete report on the material with you as soon as they had discovered that information.

"The material in question was stolen on Monday. It was only just discovered, because the thief managed to elude most of their security cameras. There was one that he apparently missed, however, and Ms. Palmer obtained an image of him, and gave it to us."

"Very good," Zo'or said. "Is there anything else, Agent Sandoval?"

The human hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Actually, Zo'or, there is. Da'an and I believe that the assassin has been--"

"Targeting Major Kincaid," Zo'or finished. He was pleased by the look of surprise that crossed Agent Sandoval's face; it was always pleasant to shock the human. "Yes, I am aware of that theory.

"Da'an also informed me that you would be protecting Major Kincaid until the assassin has been captured," he added.

"I felt it would be wise," Agent Sandoval replied. "After all, it is becoming obvious that we are dealing with a skilled professional; Major Kincaid requires proper protection."

A slight smile crossed Zo'or's face. "I quite agree, Agent Sandoval."

Both Agent Sandoval and Major Kincaid looked openly surprised at that.

"Now, I suggest that you attempt to uncover the identity of the thief," Zo'or continued, and turned away from the humans in dismissal.

As they entered Sandoval's office, Liam automatically sat down in his usual chair, still wondering what was going on.

He was... confused, to put it mildly. The last thing he had expected was for Zo'or to agree to Sandoval's acting as his bodyguard. Zo'or didn't like him - had never liked him - and had even tried to have him killed more than once... Now, suddenly, the Taelon was encouraging Sandoval to protect him?

To make it even more confusing, Sandoval appeared to have been as surprised by Zo'or's response as he had been - which was unusual. Most of the time, Sandoval seemed to know exactly what Zo'or was thinking.

Of course, Sandoval hadn't exactly been acting like his normal self lately either...

It didn't make any sense.

"Major?" Sandoval said pointedly, and Liam realized that he'd been ignoring Sandoval completely - and from his tone of voice, Sandoval had already tried to get his attention more than once.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I just... I'm a little distracted right now."

Sandoval didn't comment on that, merely gestured to his terminal. "If you could download the security record from Doors International..."

Wincing at the sharp tone of his father's voice, Liam obediently took out his global and downloaded the image.

I should get this to Augur, if I can, Liam thought, as Sandoval started up a search. He'll probably have even more luck than Sandoval in getting a match.

"This is likely to take a while," Sandoval said after a moment. He leaned back in his chair and gave Liam a searching look. "There is something I've been meaning to discuss with you, Major."

Uh oh... This doesn't sound too good... "What is it?" Liam asked, hoping his thoughts didn't show on his face.

"You mentioned yesterday morning that you didn't know all that much about the Volunteer pilots," Sandoval said.

Huh? That had to be one of the last things he'd expected Sandoval to talk about! "That's right," Liam replied, deciding to play along. "You know I don't really have much to do with the Volunteers. They're your concern, after all."

"True. However, since..." Sandoval paused for just a moment, and then went on. "Since Captain Marquette's unfortunate demise, I've noticed that the quality of the pilot training has declined. Once you have recovered from your injury, I want you to take charge of that particular program."

Liam stared at Sandoval, his mouth open in astonishment, even as he felt a stab of pain at the memory of Lili's death. "You want me to what?" he exclaimed in disbelief. Why on earth would Sandoval do something like that? It made no sense - especially since Liam knew that Sandoval had suspicions of his involvement with the Resistance.

There had to be a catch to this, somewhere.

"Take charge of the Volunteer pilot training program," Sandoval repeated. "In fact, you can start even before your shoulder heals; the first thing I'd like you to do is find out what the trainers are doing, and then develop ways in which the current methods of instruction can be improved.

"You're one of the best pilots we have, Major, if not the best; and you're also a Companion-Protector," Sandoval continued. "As a result, you are uniquely qualified for this position."

Liam struggled to get his thoughts in order. It was hard; this had come completely out of left field as far as he was concerned.

"Who's in charge right now?" he asked after a moment. It was the first coherent question he could come up with - that he could actually ask, that was.

"Nominally, I am," Sandoval replied. "But I don't know enough about piloting, nor do I have the time, to deal with the difficulties that they're having. You have both.

"I will have to confirm this with Zo'or, of course, but I doubt that there will be any problems."

Liam wasn't so sure he believed that.

But then again... Considering Zo'or's recent behaviour, maybe Sandoval was right.

"So I'm to find areas where the training could stand some improvement, come up with suggestions, and report them to you?" he asked, wanting to be clear on exactly what Sandoval expected of him.

"To start with," Sandoval replied, studying Kincaid carefully.

The Major was still looking a bit stunned at Sandoval's decision. His eyes were wide, and he was rubbing the palm of his right hand - a nervous gesture that Sandoval had noticed quite a few times over the past three days.

"To start with?" Kincaid repeated.

"I said, Major, I want you in charge of the program. Permanently," he added, to emphasize his point.

Kincaid's eyes widened further as he sat back in his chair. "You're sure about this," he said. It was a statement rather than a question, although his tone was disbelieving.

"Yes, Major, I'm quite sure. As I said, you are the best qualified for the position, and it's something that needs doing." Those weren't the only reasons, of course; but they were the ones that would serve to explain his decision to Zo'or. And Sandoval wasn't about to mention the other reasons until he was certain that Kincaid could trusted.

"In fact," he added, taking out his pocket-watch and checking the time, "you can begin right now. There's an orientation session in the main shuttle bay for the newest trainees; it starts in about an hour." He reached into the top drawer of his desk and took out the small disk he'd prepared yesterday afternoon. "This will give you the details of the training program, as well as the records of the instructors and the statistical information on session sizes and failure rates. I want you to study it, and then go to the orientation session."

Kincaid nodded slowly as he took the disk. "All right," he replied. He got up from the chair and picked his global up from Sandoval's desk. "You'll call me if the search turns up anything?"

"Of course, Major," Sandoval said.

He waited until Kincaid had left, closing the door behind him, and then checked his screen to see how the search was doing.

He'd set it up to search the FBI agent database first, followed by the CIA, US Military Intelligence, and then the rest of the US military databases. After that, it would go through the rest of Earth's databases, but Sandoval had the feeling that one of the first four searches would find their man. The sense of familiarity he got when he looked at the picture told him that.

He set the search to run in the background and opened his global, pulling up Zo'or's energy signature.

With any luck, this time he wouldn't be interrupted - and he'd find something. Third time's the charm, they say... he thought, as he ordered the computer to begin a search for all data relating to the hybrid project. Let's just hope that they're right, and I do find something - because if I don't, I have no idea of where to go from here.

Augur had just finished putting away his dishes when his global beeped.

Opening it up, he wasn't surprised to see Liam's face appear. "I was just going to call you," he said.

Liam paused for a moment; he'd obviously been intending to say something, and Augur's comment had taken him off-guard. "You were?" he said finally. "Why?"

"Because you, my friend, are a very popular man," Augur replied. "You've got the Army Rangers, the FBI lab at Quantico, and some hacker from Tennessee all checking out your records. Oh, and Sandoval as well, but that's no surprise."

"No, it's not," Liam said, sighing. "Although I might have some idea of why he was checking them this time... but that's not really important. Listen, has Renee called you?"

"No... I haven't spoken to her since this morning, when I gave her your message," Augur told him. "She was... rather upset, by the way." That was an understatement; in fact, she'd nearly taken his head off. "Why?"

Liam's expression hardened. "She and Doors managed to catch the thief on one of their security cameras," he replied. "She gave Sandoval and I his picture about an hour, hour and a half ago. I was expecting that she would have sent a copy to you as well, so that you could check him out, but I guess I was wrong."

"Yeah, you were. So why don't you send it over now and I'll get started?" Augur suggested.

"Thanks, Augur," Liam replied, in a tone of heartfelt gratitude, and a moment later, an image of a tall man with thinning blond hair and dark eyes appeared on Augur's global.

"I'll get right on it, and I'll give you a call when I've got him, okay?"

"Thanks, Augur," Liam repeated. "I really appreciate this."

He closed the connection.

Augur studied the thief's face for a moment, and then shook his head with a sigh. The things I do for you, kid...

"Sir, there's an incoming call for you."

The man looked up from the article he'd been reading. "Who is it?" he demanded.

"Jonathan Doors, sir."

His mouth tightened. Doors. What was he doing, calling?

"Sir?"

"I'll take it, I'll take it," he said irritably. Picking up his global, he opened it. "Doors," he acknowledged curtly. "What do you want?"

"I want you to lay off Kincaid," Doors replied, equally curt. "And I want the vaile back."

The man shook his head. "No."

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Doors demanded.

His expression hardened. "I know perfectly well what I'm doing, Doors. Do you?"

Doors glared at him. "Kincaid isn't a traitor; he's on our side."

"And just how do you define 'our' side, Doors? Considering your little alliance with Zo'or, I suggest you think carefully about that."

He could see Doors gritting his teeth, and smiled coldly.

"Liam Kincaid is Resistance," the business tycoon said after a moment. "In fact, he's currently the leader of the Resistance."

"You know what, Doors? I don't believe you. It's so obvious that Kincaid is the Taelons' pet, I don't know why you're even bothering to talk to me about it. In fact, I don't know why I'm even bothering to talk to you about it. Goodbye."

Closing the global, he tossed it back on his desk and returned his attention to the article.

Soon, Kincaid... soon.

Liam slipped into the shuttle bay and glanced around. La'nar, one of the Taelon crew that Liam knew in passing, was on traffic control duty; it didn't look to be all that busy at the moment, but Liam knew better than to disturb him.

"Major Kincaid?" came a question from behind him, and he turned to see a Volunteer he recognized from the files that Sandoval had given him. It was Lt. Gregory Benning, the head piloting instructor. "Can I help you with something?"

"Lieutenant Benning, right?" Liam said.

"Yes, sir," the Lieutenant replied.

Liam smiled. "I'm actually here to see you, Lieutenant," he explained. "Agent Sandoval is considering putting me in charge of the pilot training program, and I'd like to get an idea of what the training sessions are like. I was wondering if I could listen in on the orientation session you'll be doing in a few minutes."

Lt. Benning looked surprised. "Of course, Major," he replied. "You're more than welcome to listen - and join in if you would like."

"Thank you," Liam declared. "I think I'll stick to just listening for the moment."

The Lieutenant nodded in understanding. "If you'll follow me, then, sir," he said, leading Liam over to the far end of the shuttle bay, where a strange-looking device was set up in an alcove. "This is where we hold the orientation and preliminary training sessions."

Liam looked around the small area in confusion. He recognized a Taelon console at one end of... whatever this was, and there was a pilot's seat in front of the console... but he had no idea what all the other things were. "What is this?"

Lt. Benning blinked. "It's the shuttle flight simulator, sir," he replied, his tone cautious.

"Flight simulator?" Liam peered at the collection of machinery around the seat. "But I thought that the shuttle interface was an intuitive one."

"It is," Lt. Benning said. His voice sounded strange, and Liam turned to look at him. "However, the trainees still need to learn the basics, and a simulator is the best way to do that."

"I'd like to try it out," Liam began, and then a flash of pain from his shoulder reminded him of the fact that he wasn't allowed to move his arm at the moment. "Later," he added with a grimace, gesturing at the sling he was wearing in explanation.

"Yes, sir," Lt. Benning replied, and then glanced at his global. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, Major, the trainees will be coming through the portal in two minutes, and I need to meet them there."

Liam nodded.

As Benning walked out of the shuttle bay, Liam gave the simulator another curious glance. If this was standard for pilot training, why hadn't Lili ever had him use it? She'd spent a period of two days teaching him how to fly a shuttle after he'd saved Da'an from the replicant, but they'd spent that entire time actually in a shuttle, not in a simulator.

Of course, he'd had Lili instructing him one-on-one, whereas Lt. Benning and the other trainers had classes ranging from 12-19 Volunteers at a time, according to the information Sandoval had given him. That probably made a difference.

Glancing at his watch, Liam estimated that he had about three to five minutes left before Lt. Benning came back with the trainees - just enough time to give his shuttle a quick check. Even if he couldn't fly it at the moment, he still liked to check it daily - a habit he'd gotten into after Doors' sabotage had sent Augur and himself to Maiya's dimension.

Sitting down in the pilot's seat, he called up the controls and ran a quick systems check.

Everything appeared to be working perfectly, and Liam got up just as Lt. Benning led a group of about 16 Volunteers into the shuttle bay. As they passed his shuttle, he followed them, and ended up standing inconspicuously at the back of the group as they gathered around the simulator.

Volunteer Gayle Johnson looked around curiously as their group entered the shuttle bay. She'd never been on the mothership before, and she'd found the short journey from the ID portal to the shuttle bay absolutely fascinating.

The shuttle bay was large, with shuttles docked everywhere. Right next to the entrance they'd come in by was a Taelon seated in a bizarre-looking sphere of energy. Gayle wondered what he was doing.

Their instructor, Lt. Benning, led them over to the far end of the shuttle bay. In one corner was a very strange-looking machine, consisting of an unusual-shaped chair, a console, and a metal decking under them, with bits and pieces of machinery under the decking.

"What's that?" came a question from one of her fellow trainees. Based on his accent, he was from Australia, Gayle decided. Well, Australia or New Zealand. She'd never been able to hear the difference between the accents, although her college roommate, who had been from New Zealand, had insisted that there was one.

"This, Volunteers, is a shuttle flight simulator. Before you are allowed to sit yourself in a real pilot's seat, you will all have to satisfy me that you can get through the worst of the simulator programs without destroying your shuttle, your passengers, or yourself. This generally takes a week and a half to two weeks with an implant; without an implant, it can take up to three weeks, or sometimes longer." He looked at all of them. "Well, since we have no implants in this class, it looks like you'll all be scheduled for about three weeks with this baby.

"Then, after you've proved yourself capable of avoiding an absolute disaster in the simulator, we let you try it in a real shuttle."

"Sir," spoke up another trainee - Gayle's friend from Basic Training, Aaron Greene - "what happens if we don't get it in three weeks?"

"Then, Private..." Lt. Benning consulted his global, "Greene, either we figure out what you're doing wrong, or you're not meant to be a pilot.

"Which brings up my second point. The average size of a class at the beginning is fifteen Volunteers. The average size of a graduating class is four.

"You all possess excellent reflexes and an ability to interface easily with Taelon technology, according to the preliminary tests you passed to be in this class. Nonetheless, it's likely that only a quarter to a third of you will actually become shuttle pilots. That's because none of the tests we can give you can accurately predict your reactions in some of the situations that you could find yourself in as pilots. Aside from teaching you how to maneuver a shuttle, the actual mechanics of piloting, that's what the simulator does. Throws you into a situation where you have to make a number of rapid decisions - decisions that could mean life and death. What we are looking for are people - Volunteers - who can do this consistently and successfully.

"This is where most of you will fail. You aren't necessarily expected to handle every simulation perfectly - and you won't even be confronted by these simulations at the beginning - but by the time three weeks are up, you will be expected to perform consistently well.

"Are there any more questions right now?"

There were a few headshakes, but most of them stayed silent.

"Good."

Lieutenant Benning stepped up onto the metal decking. "As I said," he began, "this is the shuttle flight simulator. It was created by the same team that worked on the human interface for the shuttles, and as a result, is one of the best training tools we have. This seat here," he gestured to the unusual-shaped chair, "is a pilot's seat. It's designed to give the pilot maximum flexibility and maneuverability, while at the same time providing sufficient protection in the case of a crash. And believe me, even the best pilots can crash. All it takes is being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Now," he continued, as he waved his hand over the console and brought up a large screen with a set of strange images on it, "this console is designed to mimic a shuttle's controls, as well as the view you would have out the front. Every time you do anything to the controls, the simulator will move in response. Like this."

The Lieutenant sat down in the seat and placed his hands against the console screen. Then he made a movement with his left hand, and the decking tilted to one side. He reversed the movement, straightening the simulator back out, and then pulled his hands away.

"A shuttle's controls are extremely responsive," he said. "When we start you out on the simulator, there will be a half-second delay between your movement and that of the 'shuttle'. By the end of your first week, the 'shuttle' will be moving exactly as you do. It's at that point that we will start putting you into scenarios that you will have to deal with."

Before he could continue, there was a sudden beep from the back of the group. Gayle recognized it as a global, and she, like all the others, turned to look.

Standing by the entrance to the alcove holding the simulator was a tall, youthful man with spiky brown hair and one arm in a sling. He looked a bit embarrassed at having suddenly become the centre of attention.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant Benning," he said apologetically.

"No harm done, Major," the Lieutenant replied - a bit distantly, Gayle thought.

The man - whom Gayle suddenly realized was Major Kincaid, Da'an's Protector - nodded to Lt. Benning and then turned and walked out of the shuttle bay.

"Atten-hut!" the Lieutenant called sharply from behind them, and Gayle automatically came to attention, facing Lt. Benning, as did the rest of the class.

"However inadvertently, the Major has provided me with the perfect example to make my next point.

"When his global went off, you all turned to look at him; and continued to focus your attention on him until I called you to attention. As pilots, you will be expected to recognize events that are unimportant - such as someone else's global going off - and ignore them; you must focus on those events that will impact your shuttle, your passengers and you. Too much attention paid to distractions can quite easily get you killed.

"Now..."

Liam slipped out of the shuttle bay, still feeling the heat of embarrassment in his cheeks. Sighing, he opened his global. He was seriously hoping that it was either Augur or Sandoval with news about the thief. If it was anyone else, it would probably mean that something else had gone wrong - which was not something he was in the mood to hear right now.

Augur's worried face graced the small screen.

"Augur? What is it?"

"Your instincts were right on the money with this, Liam," the hacker said.

Liam gave him a puzzled look, not understanding what Augur was getting at.

"On a hunch, I checked the image you sent me from Doors' security records against the files of the people that have accessed your records. I came up with a match."

"You did? Who is it?" Liam demanded.

Augur's mouth tightened. "This is the bad news, Liam; your thief - and most likely assassin as well - is Lieutenant Colonel Gary McKenna, US Army Rangers. I did a bit more poking around on him - that's why it's taken me this long to get back to you - and I don't like what I've found."

"Go on," Liam said slowly, a chill stealing through him. He now had a name - the name of someone who wanted to kill him. It was a terrifying feeling.

Yes, he'd had people try to kill him before. Hell, Zo'or and Sandoval had tried to kill him on a number of occasions!

The difference was, though, that he'd always known why before. There'd always been an obvious reason. But this... he'd never even heard of Lieutenant Colonel McKenna before!

"Liam, this guy is an expert marksman - he's rarely, if ever, missed a target he's aimed at, especially when using a sniper's rifle. I don't know how he missed you on Wednesday, but you've been damn lucky so far," Augur declared.

Liam took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "Thanks, Augur. Can you upload the information into my global?"

Augur nodded, and Liam watched as text scrolled rapidly up his screen for a moment before Augur's face returned. "Done," the hacker said.

"Thanks again. I've got to go tell Sandoval about this," Liam said.

Augur nodded again. Then, just before he cut the communication, he said quietly, his tone one of concern, "Be careful, Liam."

Liam paused for a moment, looking at the blank screen, and then closed his global.

He was just about to head toward Sandoval's office when his global beeped a second time.

Opening it, Liam was surprised to see his father.

"Major, I've found our thief," were the first words out of Sandoval's mouth.

Liam blinked. "You did?" he repeated. He hadn't expected Sandoval to find the man as quickly as Augur had.

Sandoval nodded, his expression sober. "His name is Gary McKenna; he's a lieutenant colonel in the Army Rangers. I met him a couple of times during the S.I. War, although I didn't recognize him immediately. He's an expert in intelligence gathering - which is how I met him - and assassination.

"I think you'd better come to my office, Major. We're going to have to come up with something - quickly."

Liam closed his global slowly, half expecting it to go off again. When it didn't, he started walking toward Sandoval's office.

When he arrived, Sandoval was talking to someone on his global. From the sound of it, they were discussing the whereabouts of Lt. Col. McKenna. Sandoval gestured for him to sit down and continued talking.

"When was the last time you saw him?"

Liam couldn't hear what the person on the other end said, but he saw the results in Sandoval's expression as his father scowled.

"Thank you, General," Sandoval said then, his tone cool but surprisingly - to Liam - polite. "I appreciate the help."

Closing his global, he looked up at Liam. "That was General Prescott," he said.

Liam nodded in understanding - General Prescott was the commander of the Rangers. That explained Sandoval's courtesy. "Did he have any information on Colonel McKenna?"

Sandoval sighed. "Not much," he replied. "He was assigned to the military base the US Army maintains in Peru, but he's apparently been AWOL for the past two weeks. They have no idea where he went, or why."

"Until now," Liam added.

Sandoval nodded. "Until now," he confirmed. He leaned back in his chair. "We need a strategy to catch him, Major - and quickly. This man is not the kind of person we can leave running around."

"Trust me, Sandoval, I know. I'm his target, remember," Liam replied irritably. He frowned and started scratching his right palm - it was beginning to itch again. And his last dose of painkillers - which he'd taken just before he'd told Sandoval about the vaile - was wearing off. "I'm sorry, Sandoval, but I'm absolutely exhausted. I can't think of anything right now."

Sandoval studied him for a moment, frowning. Then he looked at his pocket-watch. "It's almost six o'clock. Why don't we get something to eat at the commissary, and then head down to the Embassy?"

"Sounds good," Liam said. Come to think of it, he hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast this morning - no wonder he wasn't thinking straight!

Sandoval nodded and stood up. "In that case, let's go."

Liam balanced his tray awkwardly in one hand as he skirted several groups of Volunteers and arrived at the table Sandoval had picked out for them. It was in one corner of the commissary, and both seats had their backs to the walls. Perfect, Liam thought, as he put his tray down on the table and slipped into the seat his father had left free. Especially right now, when we're both so security conscious.

"So," Sandoval began, as soon as he was seated, "what did you think of the orientation lecture?"

A bit relieved that Sandoval was willing to choose a neutral topic to discuss over dinner, Liam sighed as he replied, "I wasn't really all that impressed. Between that and what I've managed to read of the files you gave me, I think you're right about there being a problem, and I've come up with a few ideas on how to get my investigation started."

"Oh?" Sandoval prodded, sounding genuinely interested.

Liam nodded as he picked up his fork and poked at a carrot. "The first thing I want to do is talk to some of the pilots who qualified under Lil-- Captain Marquette's command, and some of those who've qualified since then," he explained. "I also want to talk to some of the Volunteers who failed from both periods, and maybe put a few of them through that simulator myself." He checked his watch, and then reached into his pocket, pulled out the bottle of painkillers, and took out four. Putting them in his mouth, he grimaced at the taste and quickly took a sip of water to wash them down with.

Sandoval frowned at him. "Four?"

Liam tilted his head - the closest he could come to shrugging without hurting his shoulder. "That's how many Dr. Park said to take until tomorrow morning," he replied.

His father's frown deepened. "It seems a bit excessive," he commented.

Liam worried at his lower lip for a moment. He couldn't exactly tell Sandoval that it was safe enough because of his part-Kimeran metabolism. "It's only until tomorrow," he repeated. "She said not to take that dosage for more than forty-eight hours."

Sandoval nodded, looking a bit happier. "Just make sure you're careful," he ordered. "The last thing you need right now is to be dopey from the painkillers."

Yes, Father; I do know that... Liam thought, turning his attention to his dinner. He really was quite hungry.

"So," Sandoval continued, turning the topic back to the pilot training program, "the simulator they're using now - is it the same one Captain Marquette trained you on?"

"Oh, I never used the simulator," Kincaid replied absently, most of his attention focused on trying to mash his potatoes without being able to use his right hand. "Lili took me out in her shuttle and taught me to fly it directly. It took me two days to get it right."

Sandoval stared at Kincaid in a combination of shock and surprise.

Admittedly, he didn't know all that much about piloting, much less pilot training - he'd said as much to Kincaid earlier. But when he'd discovered a few months ago that the training program was having problems, he'd read through all the procedures Captain Marquette had set up, to see if he could figure out where the difficulties were arising. One of those procedures had been that trainees were required to spend a minimum of a week to a week and a half using the simulator before graduating to actual shuttles.

And according to Kincaid's file, he'd never been a pilot before coming to work for the Taelons; if he had been, that might have been an understandable reason for Marquette to have skipped his simulator training. So, since he hadn't been, why had she done that?

He absently started eating, paying no attention to the taste of his food.

Major Kincaid had been a puzzle from the beginning, though it was only over the last few days that Sandoval had realized just how much of an enigma he really was. An enigma that Captain Marquette had obviously known more about than he did. What Kincaid had just told him made that clear.

I just hope Andrew can come up with some answers for me, Sandoval thought with a sigh. Just who are you really, Kincaid?

Putting his fork down, he was surprised to realize that he'd finished his meal. He checked his pocket-watch, and was even more surprised to find that it was already a quarter to seven.

Turning his attention back to Kincaid, he noticed that the Major had also finished his dinner, and was currently staring off into space, a look of exhaustion on his face.

Sandoval wasn't all that surprised at Kincaid's exhaustion; between the events of the past couple of days, the near-miss this morning, the busy day they'd had, and the painkillers the Major was taking, the surprise was that Kincaid hadn't collapsed hours ago.

And he's not the only one who's tired, Sandoval admitted to himself. It had only been this morning that he'd found out that his son was most likely a hybrid, and he'd spent the entire day trying to deal both with that and with the search for the assassin. Looks like a plan is going to have to wait until tomorrow. For now, I'll just alert the Volunteers to be on the lookout for McKenna.

"Liam," he said, reaching over and giving Kincaid's left shoulder a little shake.

Kincaid blinked and then slowly focused on him. "Sorry, Sandoval," he said, yawning. "What did you say?"

"I think it's about time we called it a day, Major," Sandoval replied. "We're both tired, and it would probably be much better to wait until we've had some sleep before trying to come up with anything to deal with Lieutenant Colonel McKenna."

Kincaid rubbed his eyes with his left hand. "I think you're right," he mumbled. "I definitely need some sleep... I'll call Roberts and ask him to take me back down."

Sandoval just looked at him for a moment. "Major, you'll be staying on board the mothership tonight," he said firmly. "You can sleep in one of the Volunteer barracks rooms."

Kincaid shook his head carefully, a stubborn expression crossing his face. "Uh uh. I am not staying on the mothership all night. Besides, I'll sleep better at home."

Sandoval tried to rein in his exasperation with the younger man. Remember, Sandoval, he's exhausted - he's not thinking straight. "Listen to yourself, Major," he said with exaggerated patience. "You are currently the target of a professional assassin. That means that your apartment is the last place you should be going."

For just a moment, Kincaid looked remarkably like a sulky child. Then he took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "I don't want to stay on the mothership," he repeated.

"Then we'll stay at the Embassy," Sandoval replied calmly, standing up and collecting both their trays. "I'll be right back, Major."

Liam opened his mouth, ready to protest, and then closed it again when he realized he had no idea what to say. Sandoval was right, after all; when taken in context, his desire to go home to sleep was... well... not that bright an idea. And he couldn't think of any counter-arguments to staying at the Embassy; he felt almost too tired to think at all.

The exhaustion had hit suddenly, partway through dinner. One minute he'd been tired, but awake enough to be thinking of questions to ask Cpl. Roberts about his training; the next, a wave of fatigue had washed over him, and he hadn't been consciously aware of anything else until Sandoval had shaken him.

"Major?" Sandoval said, and Liam realized that his father was standing next to him, obviously waiting for him to get up.

Yawning, he got himself to his feet, and then winced in pain as his right shoulder impacted against the wall. The only good thing about the pain was that it kept him awake enough to follow Sandoval through the corridors of the mothership to the shuttle.

The entire shuttle trip passed in a blur; by the time they landed outside the Embassy, the pain had faded enough that he was only distantly aware of Sandoval talking quietly to the Embassy guards.

He managed to fight the exhaustion off long enough for Sandoval to lead him to a room he'd never seen before, then walk in and sit down on the small cot.

Rubbing his eyes, Liam peered blearily at Sandoval, who was still standing in the doorway. "G'night," he mumbled.

Sandoval seemed to smile faintly at him - or maybe it was just his over-tired imagination, combined with wishful thinking. "Good night, Liam," his father replied. "I'll see you in the morning." Then he left, letting the door close behind him.

Liam yawned again, and then managed to toe his shoes off and lie down. His last thought before sleep overwhelmed him was, Liam. He called me 'Liam' twice tonight.

Sandoval made a quick tour of the Embassy, stopping to speak to each of the Volunteers guarding the building in order to update them on both the assassin's identity and the fact that his target was Major Kincaid. He was interested to note the anger with which the guards reacted when he revealed the true target; it was obvious that they held a great deal of respect and admiration for Kincaid. And loyalty.

It was a good sign; if Kincaid was able to unknowingly inspire that sort of reaction in Volunteers that he interacted with only because they all worked in the Washington Embassy, it was more than likely that he'd be able to do the same with the pilots when he was put in charge of them. The training program would be the first step.

He finished his check of the Embassy, and found himself outside the Major's door.

Quietly opening the door, Sandoval looked in, wanting to make sure that Kincaid had gotten to sleep - And to make sure he's all right, he added to himself. Sandoval sighed; he still didn't understand where this concern for Liam was coming from. It seemed to be something almost instinctive, buried deep within him.

He felt a wry smile cross his face as he assessed the sight that greeted him. Kincaid was curled up on the small cot, lying on his left side. He was still wearing his jacket - obviously he'd fallen asleep before removing it - and the blankets were still folded at the bottom of the cot.

With another sigh, Sandoval entered the room and walked over to the cot. He picked up the blankets, unfolded them, and put them over Kincaid's sleeping form - careful not to jar the Major's right arm, which was still resting in its sling.

"Good night, Liam," he repeated softly. "Sleep well."

Then he left, closing the door softly behind him.

Sandoval sat down at Major Kincaid's desk and fought back a yawn. Despite his intentions to go to sleep early last night, he'd ended up spending several hours both reviewing the non-existent results of his search of the mothership mainframe - in an effort to come up with another line of inquiry to help him find his son - and trying to come up with a plan to entrap McKenna. Both efforts had proved futile.

As a result, however, he hadn't gotten to sleep until two a.m. this morning, and he'd woken up at seven, having had that dream again.

Why do I keep having that same damn dream? And what the hell do Beckett and Kincaid have to do with my son?

He rubbed his hands over his face, tired. He was having trouble maintaining his usual impassive façade - he'd already let it slip a number of times with Kincaid over the past few days - but he couldn't afford to lose control now. There was too much at stake.

Opening a datastream, he called the mothership.

"Agent Sandoval," Zo'or greeted him. "I received your information on the identity of the assassin. Have you and Major Kincaid come up with a strategy to deal with this Lieutenant Colonel McKenna yet?"

"I'm afraid not, Zo'or. Major Kincaid is still asleep; I left instructions that he was not to be disturbed, as he requires the rest. As soon as he wakes up, I will be discussing it with him," Sandoval replied calmly.

"Very well," Zo'or said. "Please inform me as soon as you have a plan."

"Of course, Zo'or," Sandoval replied obediently. "There is, however, one other thing that I wished to discuss with you."

"And that is?"

Sandoval kept tight control over his expression and tone of voice, not wanting Zo'or to have any reason to question either his suggestion or his motivation. "I have been thinking about the problems that the Volunteer pilot training program has been having lately, and I believe that I have come up with a solution," he stated.

"You have? And what is this solution?" Zo'or demanded.

"Place Major Kincaid in charge of the training program," Sandoval replied. "He is a trained pilot, and a Companion-Protector. As such, he is perfectly qualified for that position."

Zo'or looked thoughtful. "I see," he said slowly. Then he looked at Sandoval, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Are you willing to permit the pilots to be completely outside the regular chain of command?"

It was a bit of an effort to keep the frown he felt off his face, but Sandoval managed it. He hadn't said anything about the rest of the piloting program - that was the next step of his plan - just the training. Where was Zo'or going with this?

"Yes," he replied aloud. "I am well aware of the fact that I am not able to utilize the pilots to their full effectiveness, as I am not a pilot myself."

"In that case, Agent Sandoval, it is an excellent suggestion. Put Major Kincaid in charge of the pilots - all of them," Zo'or added, to Sandoval's surprise, "not just the trainees. If he is capable of handling the training program, he is capable of handling the rest."

That wasn't necessarily true, although Sandoval was confident that in Kincaid's case the abilities were there, but he wasn't about to argue with Zo'or about it. Not when he'd just gotten something that he'd thought it would take him several months to convince the Synod Leader to give him. "Of course, Zo'or," he said again.

"Very well. Inform me as soon as you have developed your plan to catch the assassin," Zo'or said, and closed the datastream.

What is he up to? Sandoval wondered, staring at the spot where the datastream had been. Why is he suddenly so interested in Kincaid? What is going on?

Liam opened his eyes and blinked, confused, as he took in the strange surroundings. This wasn't his room. Where was he? And how had he gotten here... wherever here was?

After a moment, memory slipped back into place. He was in the Embassy; Sandoval had been adamant about staying either here or on the mothership last night, and he really hadn't wanted to stay on the mothership.

He sat up, wincing as the movement sent a jolt of agony through his shoulder, and then stared at the blankets that had been covering him. He didn't remember pulling them up; in fact, the last thing he remembered from last night was Sandoval saying good night, and then kicking his shoes off and lying down. So how...

Never mind, Liam, it's not important. Just get up.

Standing up, he carefully adjusted his sling, and then slipped into his shoes. Wincing again - this time at the thought of how rumpled he probably looked - he opened the door... and almost jumped back in surprise when he came face-to-face with the Volunteer standing outside.

It was Private Lannart, one of the regular Embassy guards - but what was he doing outside Liam's room?

"Major," the Volunteer said, saluting.

Liam frowned. "What's going on, Private Lannart?" he demanded. His frown deepened as he recalled this week's duty schedule. "Aren't you supposed to be off-duty at the moment?"

"Yes, sir, originally I was," Lannart replied. "Although my shift starts in just over an hour, Major," he added.

Liam looked at his watch, and blinked in surprise. Lannart was right; it was almost eleven o'clock. He'd slept for almost sixteen hours? How had that happened?

Then his attention was pulled back to Lannart as the Volunteer shifted. "Major, Agent Sandoval is in Da'an's office. He requested you meet him there as soon as you woke up."

Liam nodded. "Thank you," he said, and started walking in the direction of Da'an's office. A moment later he stopped, frowning, as he noticed Lannart trailing behind him. "Private?"

"Agent Sandoval's orders, sir," the Volunteer replied calmly. "With a professional assassin on the loose and targeting you, he ordered that you have at least one of us with you whenever he is busy elsewhere."

Liam blinked, and then muttered a particularly nasty Gaelic curse under his breath. "Of all the ridiculous... This is a Taelon Embassy, for goodness sake! How does Agent Sandoval think an assassin could possibly get in here? There are guards on every entrance!"

Lannart shrugged. "I have my orders, sir," was all he said.

"Fine, fine," Liam muttered, as he resumed walking - a bit faster, this time. "I'll take this up with Agent Sandoval myself."

He strode into Da'an's - and his - office to find Sandoval sitting at his desk, and was just about to demand an explanation for the sudden Volunteer bodyguard when his global went off.

Hoping that it wasn't anyone important - he wasn't in the most diplomatic of moods at the moment - he opened it. It wasn't a call; it was an automatic message he'd sent to himself... and as he read it, his eyes widened as an idea suddenly occurred to him.

"I know how we can lay our trap!" he exclaimed excitedly, looking up from the blinking screen to meet Sandoval's eyes.

Sandoval gave him a questioning look.

In response, Liam gestured with his global. "Da'an's attending a Native American cultural festival tomorrow in Arizona," he explained. "I've made a habit of having my global remind me of his engagements a day beforehand so that I have plenty of time to review the security arrangements. Zo'or doesn't have anything scheduled for then, so I was still going to accompany Da'an. We can set our trap for McKenna there!"

Sandoval didn't look quite as enthusiastic about the idea as Liam felt. "Da'an has been to these sorts of ceremonies before, Major," he pointed out. "There's always a great deal of open ground, and a great many people."

"That's easy enough to deal with," Liam replied confidently. "You're right about there being a lot of open ground, but that will reduce McKenna's potential hiding places and should make it easier for a shuttle flying overhead to pinpoint his location. As for the crowd, I'll put myself on perimeter duty. That way, we can get him to attack when and where we want him to."

Sandoval frowned, his expression uncertain. "There are several glaringly obvious holes in that plan, Major. How are we supposed to manoeuvre him into the position we want him in?"

Liam grinned. "We've got all day to work on this, Sandoval. I'm sure we can figure it out." He came around his desk, and Sandoval stood up and moved out of his way. "I've got a map of the grounds here," he continued, logging on to the mainframe and pulling it up. "This is how the various activities are going to be set up..."

They spent the next hour and a half working on it, ironing the wrinkles out of the plan, until Sandoval appeared to be as satisfied with it as Liam was. It was still risky, but they'd managed to reduce the risk to the point where Sandoval was willing to allow him to take the chance.

I still don't understand what's going on with him, Liam reflected as he leaned back in his chair and watched Sandoval scowl thoughtfully at the map and the security stations they'd set up on it. Absently scratching his left palm, he frowned. I really don't understand it. Why is he suddenly so concerned for me? His concern is genuine - I can tell that much. But... I want to understand. I need to understand. Where is it coming from?

And why, he added to himself, his frown deepening as he sat up, has he got the Volunteers playing bodyguard inside the Embassy?

"Sandoval?" he said aloud.

"What is it, Liam?" Sandoval asked, his tone absentminded as he leaned forward in the chair Lannart had brought in for him, touched the screen and shifted the position of one of the security stations by a few centimetres on the map.

And that's another thing, Liam thought, scratching harder as the itch started to get worse. He's been calling me 'Liam' an awful lot lately. I wonder... has he figured it out?

No, he decided a moment later, I don't think he has. He would have reacted - one way or the other - if he had.

Keeping his expression neutral, Liam asked, "What's up with the Volunteer bodyguard? Private Lannart escorted me from the room I slept in to here, and was standing guard just outside the door until his shift started half an hour ago - when he was replaced by Corporal Standings."

Sandoval looked at him. "They're concerned," he replied.

Concern. It all seems to come back to that. "Why?" Liam asked. He hadn't exactly gone out of his way to ingratiate himself with most Volunteers; he didn't particularly care for their actions in enforcing Zo'or and the Synod's will on Earth, and it wasn't an attitude he bothered to hide.

Sandoval looked at the Major in surprise. Didn't Kincaid realize how much the Embassy guards respected and liked him?

Evidently not - he was looking more than a bit confused by Sandoval's explanation.

"They have a great deal of respect for you, Major," Sandoval said.

Kincaid still looked confused. "They do? But... we hardly know each other. I mean, they work here in the Embassy, of course, but I spend most of my time here with Da'an, and I don't deal with them all that much. You're in charge of the Volunteers - the only authority I have with them is what you give me."

Sandoval sighed. In some ways, Kincaid was far wiser than his age suggested; in others, he was so utterly naïve that his reactions were almost like those of a child. This was one of the latter.

"Major, you haven't moved from your desk since we started working on this plan of yours," Sandoval said. "How did you know when Private Lannart's official shift started; and how did you know who replaced him?"

"I review the duty shift every week," Kincaid replied. "It is part of my job as Da'an's Protector, Sandoval. And as for Corporal Standings, I know all the regular Embassy guards by sight."

"And you greet them by name whenever you meet them in the halls," Sandoval added - it was one of things he'd noticed about Kincaid.

"Of course," the Major replied.

"Everyone appreciates that sort of courtesy and respect, Major," Sandoval pointed out. "And most people treat the Volunteers either like cannon fodder, or pariahs." He'd been guilty of the former more than a few times. "You have no need to treat them with respect - you are a Companion-Protector, and even if you're not in the direct chain of command, you do outrank them. They know that. So when you treat them with respect, they are going to respect you. It's as simple as that.

"Oh, and speaking of chains of command," he added, stepping away from the map and turning to face Kincaid completely. The Major was rubbing at his palms again, Sandoval noticed. Was something wrong?

"What?" Kincaid prodded.

Oh, right, chains of command. "I spoke to Zo'or this morning about putting you in charge of the pilot training."

"And he said, 'no way', right?" Kincaid said, only half-joking.

Sandoval shook his head. "Actually, he thought it was an excellent idea, Major," he replied.

Kincaid looked as surprised as Sandoval had felt, if not more so. His mouth fell open as he stared at Sandoval. "He... what?"

"Thought it was an excellent idea," Sandoval repeated. "In fact, he decided to take it a step farther."

Kincaid gave him a wary look. "What does that mean?"

"It means that as of Monday week, you will be in charge of all the pilots."

"All the pilots," Kincaid repeated blankly.

Sandoval nodded. "They will be removed from the regular Volunteer chain of command, and placed directly under you. You're going to have a great deal of work to do over the next several days, Major," he added. "You're going to have to decide on the hierarchy of your new command, and develop a set of procedures and regulations that will apply specifically to pilots..."

Kincaid groaned. "Just what I need - more paperwork," he muttered. "The pile I've still got somewhere around here is bad enough..."

Actually, Sandoval hadn't considered that aspect of it. This could even mean that his paperwork would decrease... a very pleasant prospect.

"You're smiling," Kincaid said suspiciously. "Why are you smiling like that, Sandoval?"

Sandoval quickly wiped the smile from his face, not wanting to get into a discussion over paperwork right now. "It's nothing, Major," he replied innocently.

Kincaid looked as though he was about to argue with that, but before he could say anything, his stomach suddenly growled. He flushed bright red in embarrassment as Sandoval grinned.

"Hungry?"

"Yeah..." Kincaid mumbled. The flush slowly started to fade from his cheeks. "You know, there's this great little restaurant just a couple of blocks away..." His voice trailed off as Sandoval looked at him.

"Major," he said pointedly.

Kincaid used his left hand to push his chair away from the desk. "I don't want to stay cooped up in here for the next twenty hours, Sandoval," he protested. "I'll go stir-crazy!"

Sandoval felt his expression darken with anger. "And if you go out, you could quite easily end up dead," he retorted sharply. "Which do you prefer?"

Kincaid paled. After a moment, he said tightly, "I'll stay here."

Sandoval nodded in satisfaction, and made a peace-offering. "If you'll tell me how to get to this restaurant, I'll pick us up some take-out and come back here."

"All right," Kincaid replied, his tone still sullen. He grabbed a piece of scrap paper and, carefully using his left hand, wrote out the directions and what he wanted. "Their souvlaki is very good," he offered as he handed the paper to Sandoval.

"I'll take that under advisement," Sandoval replied. He glanced at the paper, reading the directions, then slipped it into his jacket pocket as he started for the exit, ignoring the nagging familiarity he felt over the handwriting.

He stopped for a moment just outside Da'an's office to speak to Corporal Standings. "I should be back in about twenty to thirty minutes," he told the Volunteer. "Please keep a close eye on the Major while I'm gone; I don't want him leaving the Embassy."

The Volunteer saluted, smiling, and in a reassuring tone said, "Yes, sir! And don't worry, sir - we'll make sure nothing happens to Major Kincaid."

Sandoval gave him a nod. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"You're welcome, sir," the Volunteer replied, as Sandoval started away.

"Oh, man..." Andrew Patterson murmured as the file he'd been after for the past several hours finally appeared on the screen. The number of traps he'd had to get past to reach this had told him that it was of major importance... but he'd had no idea that it was this big!

Reading through the file, he shook his head slowly. "Oh, man..." he repeated.

Do you have any idea what you're getting into with this, Ron? And how much does your Major Kincaid know about this? Does he know what's going on?

"This is big, Ron. Really, really big," he muttered, as he set the file to print on his old laser printer. No way was he going to trust this to a global. It was too big, and too dangerous. Paper - paper that could be shredded as soon as he'd shown it to Ron - was definitely the safest way to go.

Especially if Ron's Major Kincaid was involved, and his hacker-friend Augur as well...

Definitely the safest.

Liam sighed as he leaned back in his chair and glared sullenly at his terminal.

Sandoval was right, of course - for all they knew, McKenna could be just outside the Embassy. Personally, Liam didn't think so - but he was well aware that he didn't know enough about the man to be able to say for certain. So yes, the wisest thing to do would be to stay right here, in the Embassy, safe.

That didn't mean he had to like it, though. And he most definitely hated it. As he'd told his father, he'd go stir crazy before long - being trapped in one place, even if it really was for his own good, made him nervous. It was much too reminiscent of his nightmares, of what Zo'or and the Synod would do to him if they ever found out who he really was...

And that kind of thought isn't helping, he thought irritably. You're not 'trapped' here; think of it as protective custody.

Right. Like that's going to make much of a difference in the way I'm feeling...

Sighing again, Liam turned his attention to his desk, looking for something - anything - to do to keep him distracted.

Then he remembered what Sandoval had said, about Zo'or deciding to put him in charge of the shuttle pilots... and remembering some of the questions he'd come up with after listening to Lt. Benning's lecture, he decided that if he was going to take command by Monday week, he'd better have some plans in place for what he wanted to do.

Leaning forward, he opened a connection from his terminal to the mothership mainframe, and began looking for the names and current status of all Volunteers who'd had even a minimal amount of pilot training. The first thing he'd do would be to check into the training program, since he'd already developed the outline of a plan to deal with that... and while he was talking to the pilots who'd passed the training, he could always slip in a few questions about current conditions for the pilots.

Liam wasn't sure exactly how much time had passed when a brown paper bag was suddenly thumped onto the desk in front of him, breaking his concentration. He jumped, startled, and looked up to see Sandoval standing there, watching him quizzically.

"Sandoval! I didn't hear you come in!" he exclaimed.

"I noticed that," Sandoval replied dryly. "What's got you so occupied?"

"I'm working out exactly what I need to ask the Volunteers who've failed the pilot training in order to get an idea of what Lt. Benning and his people are doing," Liam explained, as Sandoval sat down opposite him, and started taking food out of the bag he still held. Liam was amused to realize that his father had taken his advice and gotten the souvlaki - it was something that Sandoval particularly enjoyed.

"I've made arrangements to speak to about forty from each time period over the next week, so that I get a good representative sample," he continued. "I'm also going to be talking to the pilots that succeeded in their training over that same period of time, but I've got a different set of questions to ask them."

Sandoval nodded, and then gestured to the bag, which Liam still hadn't touched. "Eat - you're the one whose stomach was growling," he ordered.

Oh, thanks, Father, Liam thought sardonically. "What did you get me?"

"Just what you asked for; a club sandwich - with Swiss cheese and mayonnaise - fries, and a salad," Sandoval replied. He gave Liam a slight grin. "I gather you go there often. As soon as I gave the order, the waitress asked me how you were. She said she'd seen Wednesday's shooting on television and was concerned."

Liam tilted his head in a shrugging motion as he opened his bag and took out his sandwich, fries and salad. "The food is excellent, and I like the atmosphere," he replied.

"Anyway," he continued, returning to the matter of his new command, "after we talk to Da'an and Zo'or about the plan, I'm going to call Corporal Roberts and get him to come in. He's an excellent pilot, and seems to have good judgement; I'd like to find out what he thinks."

Sandoval nodded. "Excellent," he replied.

"Then," Liam added, heaving a sigh, "I'm going to do paperwork. And more paperwork. And possibly a bit more, depending on how long it takes me."

Sandoval's mouth twitched as he tried not to grin. "Sounds like you've got a busy afternoon ahead of you."

Liam scowled for a moment, remembering exactly why he was going to be doing so much paperwork. "Yeah, well, I don't really have anywhere else I can go," he pointed out, "so I might as well keep myself occupied."

"It's--" Sandoval began.

"--For my own good," Liam finished irritably. Then, taking a deep breath, he managed to regain control of himself. The whole point of keeping so busy this afternoon was to avoid getting into that sort of mood. He tilted his head again. "I'm just not looking forward to being buried in paper. Is it possible for someone to suffocate that way?"

Sandoval chuckled, and then pointed to Liam's sandwich. "Eat."

A hint of mischieviousness combined with the longing Liam had been keeping in check for far too long, and he made himself grin as he replied, "Yes, Dad."

The expression on Sandoval's face was actually almost funny as he stared, and Liam forced his grin wider as he obediently bit into his sandwich.

Then Sandoval smiled faintly in response, and Liam relaxed, even as he wondered at himself. Why had he done that?

Because that's what you want to do - for real, came the thought. And if you drop enough hints, he might just figure it out himself...

But then what would he do?

Shaking his head in an unconscious effort to push the thoughts away, Liam returned his attention to Sandoval. "So, how are we going to explain the plan to Da'an and Zo'or?"

Renee stared glumly out the window of the small plane. There was nothing to see but endless kilometres of empty land, but since that particular landscape suited her bleak mood perfectly, she didn't mind.

To say that she was unhappy would be a gross understatement. She was upset, furious, enraged... The only problem was, she didn't know with whom she was most upset: Lieutenant Colonel Gary McKenna, who had started all this and then refused to listen to Jonathan when he tried to explain about Liam; Liam himself, who had told Sandoval about the vaile, and thus both destroyed a potentially useful tool for the Resistance and necessitated this trip; or Jonathan, who had flatly refused to give Liam and Sandoval the information on McKenna, and at the moment - his call to McKenna notwithstanding - didn't really seem to care about the threat the Colonel posed to both Liam and the Resistance.

"Ms. Palmer?" came a question from beside her, and Renee turned her head to look at Dr. Morneaux, the inventor of the vaile and the immediate reason she was on this plane.

"What is it, Doctor?" she asked with a sigh.

"I was just wondering... How is it that this McKenna found out about the vaile and its properties?" the scientist inquired. "The only ones aside from myself, you and Mr. Doors who were aware of what we were researching were my team - all of whom passed your very stringent security tests. My team were all aware of the importance of this project to the Resistance, and would not have breathed a word of it to anyone."

"McKenna was an intelligence operative during the S.I. War, Doctor," Renee explained. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's an expert hacker, as well as being a very successful thief." Too late now to wish that she'd insisted on keeping the records of the vaile project only on computers that were completely isolated from the network.

Dr. Morneaux shook his head. "But all the information on the vaile was filed under fashion design - making it appear to be a low priority project, as per your instructions," he pointed out. "He should have had no reason to even look for those files. And how did he know what lab the vaile was stored in? That information was recorded nowhere except in our minds."

Renee frowned as she considered Dr. Morneaux's words. He was right; McKenna should have had no reason to bother with something like fashion design. Unless...

"So what you're suggesting," she started carefully, "is that he found out from someone? One of our own people told him about the vaile?"

Just then, the loudspeaker crackled to life. "Please be advised that we are currently beginning our descent to the Arctic research facility. Please ensure that your seatbelts are fastened and your seats are in their fully upright position. We hope you had a pleasant flight, and thank you for flying Doors International Airlines."

Renee rolled her eyes at the pilot's idea of humour and turned back to Dr. Morneaux. "Well?"

He shrugged in response. "I do not know for certain - I am not a security expert like yourself, Ms. Palmer."

Absolutely wonderful, Renee thought, returning her attention to the view outside the window. Now, not only has a valuable Resistance project been discovered and essentially counteracted before we could use it, but it appears that Doors International has a major security breach.

Jonathan's going to be livid...

Da'an was on the bridge of the mothership when Agent Sandoval called to say that he and Liam had finalized a plan to entrap the assassin.

When he first heard that, Da'an was quite relieved; it meant that the threat to Liam would soon be neutralized.

Then, as he listened to Agent Sandoval outline the plan the two Companion-Protectors had come up with, he found himself becoming more and more concerned. It seemed to him to be a very risky plan, relying quite heavily on that elusive Human commodity known as 'luck', rather than a sound, logical base.

And the way Liam was proposing to expose himself... Da'an still didn't care for the idea of using his Protector as bait. And judging from the expression on Agent Sandoval's face as that part of the plan was described, the human didn't care very much for it either.

"And you believe that this plan has a good chance of success?" Zo'or demanded.

"A reasonably good chance, yes," Agent Sandoval replied. "The location is not ideal, but we will have security stations concealed all along Major Kincaid's route, as well as the shuttle flying overhead. Corporal Roberts, who is the pilot, has already been given the information on how to bypass the vaile's effect on Taelon sensors. Those factors give us an edge; we will be prepared for almost every contingency."

Da'an was well aware that it was impossible to prepare for every single possibility, especially with a species that had the degree of individuality that humans did, but he still didn't like it.

"We'll get him," Liam added confidently.

"Good," Zo'or declared. "Then we are agreed. See to it, Agent Sandoval."

"Of course, Zo'or," Sandoval replied - it was his standard response, Da'an had noticed.

"Oh, Major Kincaid," Zo'or added then, before Agent Sandoval could end the call, "I have upgraded your security level in order that you might perform your new duties more efficiently."

"Thank you, Zo'or," Liam replied calmly, and then the call ended.

Da'an turned to look at Zo'or. This was the first he had heard of Liam being given new duties. "What new duties?" he demanded, his hands expressing his agitation. Zo'or may have been the Synod Leader, but Liam was Da'an's Protector, and he should have been consulted before Liam's status was changed.

"I do not know if you are aware of this, Da'an," Zo'or said, the comment a subtle insult, "but there have been a number of difficulties with the Volunteer pilots. Agent Sandoval suggested that Major Kincaid, as both a pilot and a Companion-Protector, would be the best person to deal with these problems. Therefore, I have arranged for him to be given command of the pilots."

Da'an was astonished - and confused - by this news. Yes, he had been aware of a decline in the quality of the Volunteer pilots' training, but his sense of the matter had been that it was a backlash against Captain Marquette's attempted destruction of the mothership, and would soon... blow over, the human expression was.

Admittedly, if examined in a certain light, Zo'or's decision to turn the pilots over to Liam made a great deal of sense. As he had pointed out, Liam was a pilot - an excellent one - and a Companion-Protector - who therefore outranked all of the other pilots, who were Volunteers and mothership crew members.

The problem was, Liam was still involved in the Resistance - and a position such as that could enable him to do a great deal of damage, as Captain Marquette had proven.

After a moment, Da'an decided that he would have to wait and see what happened. Despite his concern over the direction of Liam's loyalties, he still couldn't risk Zo'or or Agent Sandoval discovering the young man's true identity or his ties with the Resistance, so there was no way in which he could protest his Protector's sudden promotion. To do so would only invite suspicion.

However... "Major Kincaid is my Protector - I should have been consulted on this matter before a decision was made," Da'an pointed out; there were some things that he was unwilling to let Zo'or get away with, and this particular objection would not raise suspicion. In fact, Zo'or might find it suspicious if he didn't bring it up.

Zo'or's expression said quite clearly that he didn't care. "Agent Sandoval is in charge of the Volunteer program, under me," he replied, meeting Da'an's eyes calmly. "It was my decision, and I made it." With that, he turned the command chair away from Da'an in a very clear dismissal.

Da'an stared at his child's back for a moment, and then turned and walked off the bridge. He had a great deal to think about.

Corporal Roberts landed his shuttle in front of the Embassy and got out, glancing at his watch as he did so. He was relieved to see that it wasn't yet three o'clock; he was still on time. He'd been a bit worried about that - before he'd left the mothership, Janisch and Calhoun had taken him aside to give him the latest gossip from the crew, and it had taken more time that he had anticipated.

I wonder if it's true, mused Roberts, as he nodded to the guards stationed at the Embassy entrance. Speculation concerning the rumour that Zo'or had decided to appoint Major Kincaid to the position of Flight Commander had apparently been running rampant over the past few hours. I hope it is...

Major Kincaid generated a great deal of gossip and speculation among the Volunteers, and had done so ever since he had abruptly shown up at Commander Boone's funeral and saved Da'an from the Jaridian replicant. He was the only Companion-Protector without a CVI, and according to the rumour mill, Zo'or had been the one to insist that he not be given one - which had only added to the mystery.

As well as being a Companion-Protector - which was a full-time job in and of itself - Major Kincaid was also one of the best pilots Roberts had ever seen. He seemed to have a natural instinct for it - and if the other set of rumours that were currently making the rounds were true, about what he'd said to Lieutenant Benning yesterday, it was even more than that.

Roberts had been trained by the late Captain Marquette, who had been a gifted shuttle pilot - one of the first humans to fly a shuttle - and been instrumental in developing the control interface that the human pilots used. But she hadn't been a miracle worker. The Major wasn't quite as expert a pilot as Captain Marquette had been, but came very close. If he had learned from her how to fly a shuttle that well - without ever having used the simulator - it had definitely been something about Major Kincaid, rather than Captain Marquette.

Assuming the rumour was true, of course. If there was one thing he'd definitely learned during his time as a Volunteer, it was that even if there was a grain of truth to a rumour, it was generally exaggerated all out of proportion.

By this time, Roberts had reached Da'an's audience room, which was - for some reason he wasn't aware of - also Major Kincaid's office. Peering in, he saw the Major sitting at his desk, scowling at a pile of paper that was on top of it.

Another one of the Embassy guards - Corporal Terry Standings, who had been in the same Basic Training camp as Roberts - was standing at attention just outside the entrance to the audience room. Roberts gave him a nod.

Standings grinned back at him. "Glad to see you, Michael," he said. "You're here to see the Major?"

"Yep," Roberts replied. "He called me about an hour ago and asked me to come down here. No idea why, though," he added.

"My guess is that he wants to ask you some questions," Standings replied. He glanced into the room behind him for a moment, and then turned back to Roberts with an expression of quiet pride on his face. "I don't know if you've heard, but Zo'or's putting him in charge of the pilots."

Roberts nodded slowly. "Yes, I did hear that - the rumour mill is passing it throughout the mothership," he replied.

"Well, I'm just glad you're here; I've been starting to get worried that he's going to try to slip out of here when I'm not looking," Standings told him. "He's been complaining for the past half hour about having nothing to do except paperwork."

Roberts frowned, understanding what the other man was getting at. The Major was being targeted by a professional assassin; if he stepped out of the protection of the Embassy, he might as well paint a bull's-eye on his back. "Got it," he said, giving Standings a sharp nod. Message received and understood. He'd do his best to keep the Major occupied for as long as he could.

Entering the audience room, Roberts walked over to the Major's desk and saluted. "Corporal Roberts reporting as ordered, sir," he stated.

Major Kincaid looked up, smiling. "At ease, Corporal," he said. "I'm very glad to see you; you've just gone and saved me from drowning in a sea of paperwork."

Roberts grinned in response. In the two days that he'd been acting as the Major's pilot, he'd very quickly learned that, unlike Agent Sandoval, Major Kincaid encouraged a certain informality. "Glad to be of service, Major," he replied, relaxing his stance.

The Major gestured to a chair that stood in front of the desk. "Sit down, relax," he suggested. "This is going to take a while, and you don't want to be on your feet the entire time."

As Roberts obeyed, the Major moved the pile of papers in front of him off to one side.

"First of all, I don't know if you're aware of this, but Zo'or has--"

"--Put you in charge of the pilots," Roberts finished for him.

Major Kincaid blinked.

"It's all over the mothership," Roberts explained, shrugging. "I was told before I left to come down here, and then Terry - Corporal Standings - told me a minute ago."

"All over the mothership," the Major repeated numbly.

Roberts nodded.

"Wonderful," he muttered. He leaned back in his chair, and then shifted as Roberts saw a flicker of pain cross his face. "In that case," the Major continued, "I might as well get straight to the point.

"Agent Sandoval told me yesterday that the pilot training program has been experiencing some difficulties. He wanted me to start looking into the situation, and to see if I could find a way to correct the problems. Yesterday afternoon, there was an orientation lecture for the most recent class, which I attended." The Major's eyes darkened a bit. "I wasn't overly impressed."

Roberts nodded, although he did wonder why Major Kincaid was explaining all this.

"Then, this morning, Zo'or decided to appoint me Flight Commander, which gives me the authority to make any changes I deem necessary. However, the first thing I need to do is find out what needs to be changed."

"Makes sense," Roberts agreed.

Major Kincaid grinned in response, and Roberts noticed him relaxing slightly. "I thought so too.

"Anyway, what I'm going to be doing over the next week - until my appointment to the position officially takes effect - is asking questions of certain Volunteers; both pilots and those who started the training, but failed for some reason or another. I decided to start with you because I know what sort of pilot you are; I want to use your capabilities and level of competence to establish a baseline for the answers I'll be getting."

It was Roberts' turn to blink. Agent Sandoval had mentioned that Major Kincaid respected him as a pilot - which had been hard to believe, considering the Major's own skills - but it was one thing to hear it from Agent Sandoval, who wasn't a pilot, after all, and another to hear it from the Major himself.

"I'll be glad to help any way I can, sir," Roberts replied.

"Good. Then let's get started."

Liam listened very carefully as Corporal Roberts explained his training in detail.

It seemed to be remarkably similar to the program that Lieutenant Benning was currently running, which suggested that either the current problems with the training were very subtle, or there was something else going on.

Though he hadn't mentioned it to Sandoval, his main difficulties with the orientation lecture yesterday had been Lt. Benning's views. He seemed to automatically assume that most of the trainees would fail, and had made that quite clear in his speech. That wasn't the type of attitude that they should be going into training with.

There was also the matter of Benning's attitude toward non-Implants; the way he had implied that those Volunteers with implants would be better pilots grated on Liam's nerves, especially considering what he knew about the Volunteer implants and the modifications Zo'or had introduced. He seemed determined to ignore the fact that Lili, who had been the best pilot the Taelons had - and Liam himself - had never been implanted.

And you don't like the way he reacted to you, Liam admitted to himself, absently beginning to scratch his right palm.

No, what really made it obvious that there was a problem with the training program were the statistics. Although he disagreed with the way Lt. Benning had mentioned it, the statistics the Lieutenant had recited to the trainees were quite accurate - for the program since the crackdown, that was. Before the crackdown, it had averaged closer to 12 Volunteers out of every 15 graduating. To go from 80% of the class graduating down to about 25% meant that there was definitely something seriously wrong.

He had been hoping that it was something as simple as a total re-organization of the training program as a result of what the Volunteers saw as Lili's treachery. But based on what Roberts was telling him, that wasn't it at all.

It looked as though he was going to have more to do than he'd thought...

Renee looked around as she stood in the office of the head of the Arctic research facility. The room was nicely decorated with pictures - most probably of Dr. Greenbaum's kids and their families, she guessed - and the atmosphere was such that it didn't feel as though they were in an isolated location miles from everywhere. Which was, she supposed, exactly the impression it was supposed to convey.

Jonathan had thought that it would be a good idea for her to do a security check of the facility, since she was going to be coming here with Dr. Morneaux anyway.

It hadn't taken very long to do; the facility wasn't all that large, and since it was so isolated, there weren't exactly any neighbouring communities to gossip about it - unlike the oil platform off the coast of Peru.

She grimaced at the thought. That was a security nightmare; especially since Sandoval and the Taelons - and Liam, for that matter - had found out about the Taelon artifacts in the area. She still wasn't sure if it had been a wise idea to tell Liam about Ma'el's ship; unfortunately, they hadn't exactly had much choice.

"Ms. Palmer?"

Turning around, she gave Dr. Greenbaum a nod of acknowledgement. "I've finished my security inspection, Doctor," she told the older woman. "I'm quite satisfied with the various precautions you have in place; and I must admit to being very impressed by the thermal baffles you've got set up."

"I'm glad you like them, Ms. Palmer," Dr. Sylvia Greenbaum replied. "They're really what make this as secure a location as it is."

Renee nodded. She was fully aware of the effects of the thermal baffles; what had impressed her was how thoroughly they managed to conceal the facility's heat signature. Not even a Taelon shuttle flying overhead should be able to detect the research complex.

"Now, I have just a few questions, and then I have to be getting back to Washington," she said.

Dr. Greenbaum frowned. "I'm afraid that won't be possible at the moment, Ms. Palmer," she said, shaking her head.

Renee looked at her. "What do you mean?"

Dr. Greenbaum turned on the terminal on her desk and typed something in. Then she turned the screen to show Renee what looked like a cloud of white. "This is what it's like outside at the moment. It's a full strength blizzard. There's no way any planes can get through that, and we don't have any portals, as you know, for security reasons. I'm afraid you're stuck here until it dies down."

"And how long will that take?" Renee demanded, staring at the screen in dismay. This was the last thing she needed, to be stuck here while everything was going on down in Washington.

The older woman sighed, shaking her head again. "I can't say; you'd have to check with Fred Andrews - our resident meteorologist. It could be as little as a few hours, or it could last two to three days. Either way, I'm afraid you'll be here until it's over."

Lovely. Just lovely. Jonathan is going to be fit to be tied. This is going to be a disaster - especially if it lasts longer than a few hours. I need to be back in Washington by Monday afternoon for that meeting...

"If you don't mind, Doctor," she said, smiling as politely as she could under the circumstances, "I'll take your advice and go talk to Mr. Andrews."

"I'll get you set up with a room, just in case," Dr. Greenbaum called from behind her, as she went out the door.

Great. Absolutely wonderful. This week has just gone from very bad to disastrous.

Sandoval pushed himself away from the desk with a sigh of mingled irritation and exasperation.

It had become obvious yesterday evening that if the Taelon databases did contain any information about his son, it was information that not even Zo'or had access to - and Sandoval didn't have a copy of Da'an's energy signature that he could use to check. Therefore, that was a dead end.

As a result, he'd decided to go back to his original plan - taking into account the fact that since his son was a hybrid, his growth rate would be different, and so his actual age could be anything up to four years or so. His physical age, on the other hand...

Sandoval had no idea how old his son might appear now. If he based his assumptions on the growth rate of the babies at the moonbase, his son could even appear to be an adult.

All this was going to make finding him much, much harder.

At the same time, he'd also been going over the plan he'd worked out with Kincaid earlier. Something about it had been nagging at him; his instincts were screaming at him that they were missing something. Something big. Unfortunately, he hadn't yet been able to figure it out.

Maybe talking to Kincaid about it would help him figure out what the problem was.

Standing up, he left the room and walked the short distance down the hall to Da'an's office. Corporal Standings was still there; his official shift started at five, and it was only four-thirty.

Sandoval had been rather interested by the fact that all the Embassy guards had agreed to have their turn at guarding Major Kincaid before the start of their shifts. It was another example of the respect and loyalty they felt toward Kincaid; a respect and loyalty the younger man hadn't even realized that he'd earned.

"The Major's still talking to Corporal Roberts, sir," Cpl. Standings said.

"Thank you, Corporal," Sandoval replied, and walked in.

Kincaid was sitting at his desk, listening and nodding at something Corporal Roberts was saying. His eyes flickered over to Sandoval as the agent walked in, and he gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement before returning his attention to his conversation with Roberts.

Sandoval stayed where he was, not wanting to interrupt the discussion, though he was pleased that Kincaid had noticed him come in. He'd been a bit worried earlier, when he'd walked straight up to the Major, carrying the bags of food, and Kincaid hadn't even realized he was there until he'd gotten his attention by dropping the food directly in front of him.

"Thanks, Roberts," Kincaid said, standing up. "I'll see you tomorrow morning; and I'd appreciate if you didn't mention this to anyone."

"Of course not, sir," Roberts replied, also standing up. He turned, and gave Sandoval a surprised salute. "Sir!"

"It's all right, Corporal," Sandoval said, gesturing with one hand for the Volunteer to relax.

"Yes, sir," Roberts said, nodding, and then hurried out.

"So, what's up?" Kincaid asked, not sitting down.

Sandoval was about to reply when he noticed something.

The Major had his hands together, and it looked as though he was scratching his right palm; scratching it fairly hard, at that.

"Major, is something wrong?" he asked, worried. He'd noticed Kincaid rubbing his palms a number of times over the past several days, but rubbing was different than scratching.

Kincaid tilted his head - something he'd been doing rather than shrugging since he had been shot. "Well, it looks like I was wrong about the source of the problems with the training program, though I can't be sure until I've finished talking to all the pilots," he offered.

Sandoval shook his head. "I meant with your hands," he said. "You've been rubbing them all week, and now you're scratching them."

Kincaid blinked, looking surprised - obviously he hadn't noticed what he was doing. "Well, they have been itching a bit lately," he began, and glanced down at his palms.

A strange expression - almost like fear, Sandoval thought in surprise - crossed Kincaid's face for just a moment, and then he closed his hands into fists and looked up, his face impassive. "They're just itchy," he repeated. "Did you want to see me about something?"

Liam sat down in his chair as Sandoval started explaining his feeling that they were missing something. He had to sit down; if he hadn't, he would probably have collapsed, and that would have told Sandoval that something was very definitely wrong.

Until Sandoval had mentioned it, he hadn't consciously noticed that he had been scratching his palms a great deal lately. Not just rubbing, but scratching - because they had been itching.

Only it hadn't been his palms that had been itching... it had been his shaqarava.

When he'd looked down at his palms - actually looked at them - the mark of his shaqarava had been obvious; they were a dark, angry red. He was vaguely surprised that he hadn't noticed before this, if they'd been this dark...

But you thought that they'd disappeared - disappeared for good, he thought. So you never even thought to look. And now something's wrong with them.

This was a problem. A big problem. And one that he had no clue how to solve.

He could always talk to Dr. Park about it, but she knew even less about shaqarava than he did. And as for Da'an... well, Liam wasn't entirely certain that he could trust Da'an with this anymore. Wasn't certain he could trust Da'an with anything anymore. And with the marks this obvious, it was only a matter of time before someone - like Sandoval or Zo'or - noticed, and started putting two and two together...

I'm going to have to hide them... somehow, he thought, as his father continued speaking. At least until I figure out what's wrong with them...

If anything's wrong with them, Liam added ruefully to himself. It was quite possible that the period of dormancy, followed by this - whatever 'this' was - was normal; but Liam didn't think so.

I may have no choice but to talk to Da'an about this. He's the only one who knows about me and has the knowledge of the shaqarava...

Suddenly, Sandoval's voice interrupted his preoccupation. "All right, Major, what's wrong?"

Liam blinked, focusing on his father. Sandoval was studying him, his expression one of concern.

"Nothing's wrong," Liam lied calmly, keeping his hands closed.

"Then why haven't you been listening to a word I've said?" Sandoval demanded.

"I've been listening," Liam protested, once again blessing his perfect Kimera memory. "You were talking about tomorrow's plan, and how you think we've missed something somewhere - though as far as I can see, we've got all the contingencies covered. He might be able to get access to the site, but Roberts is going to be in the shuttle above and scanning continuously for the vaile, so--"

"Major!" Sandoval interrupted. The concern in his expression was rapidly being replaced by exasperation.

Liam breathed a silent sigh of relief at having successfully distracted his father. "Seriously, Sandoval - at every point along my route I'll have two teams of Volunteers within shouting distance, and Roberts will be just overhead. As soon as the shuttle's sensors pinpoint the vaile, we'll be able to close in on him, catch him... and with any luck, still get a chance to enjoy part of the festival."

Sandoval frowned. "I still think we're missing something," he said. "Something obvious, that's right in front of our noses."

"The only thing I can think of that would be a problem is if he decided to fire into the crowd," Liam said, pulling the map they'd been using up on his screen. "Though if that happens, everything gets shot to hell anyway."

"And I'm fairly certain he won't do that," Sandoval countered, shaking his head as he came around the desk and studied the map from over Liam's shoulder. "You're his target, and he's a professional, which means he'll be aiming to kill you and then get out of there without risk to himself."

Oh, thanks for the reminder, Liam thought sourly.

"Besides, McKenna's always abhorred the idea of civilian casualties," Sandoval continued with a sigh. "He won't fire into a crowd and risk innocent people getting killed."

"People that he considers innocent," Liam added unhappily. He started to rub his palm, and then caught himself just in time. Careful, Liam, careful. You can't let Sandoval see your hands. Not now.

Sandoval nodded in acknowledgement of Liam's statement, and then sighed again. "And even if he has changed and does end up firing into the crowd, there isn't much we can do about it, as you pointed out. I really can't think of anything we can change."

That statement - and the resigned tone in which it was uttered - were so uncharacteristic of Sandoval that Liam stared at him for a moment in surprise. Then, as he watched, Sandoval rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking tired.

No, not tired, Liam corrected himself, as he studied his father a bit more carefully. Exhausted. He looks as though he's been getting less sleep than I have.

This was supposed to be his vacation time. He was supposed to be relaxing, enjoying life for once, not protecting me from a professional assassin. No wonder he's exhausted.

There's got to be something I can do...

Wait a minute. Liam frowned as something suddenly occurred to him. "Sandoval, when did you come in this morning?" he asked.

Sandoval looked at him in obvious confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what time did you get into the Embassy this morning?" Liam elaborated.

"I stayed here last night," Sandoval replied curtly, returning his attention to the map on Liam's screen and glaring at it.

Liam's frown deepened as he continued to study his father. No wonder Sandoval was tired - Liam doubted that he'd been able to get much sleep on what passed for beds here. The only reason he had slept for so long was because he had been completely exhausted, and because the increased dosage of painkillers Dr. Park had given him had finally caught up with him. "Why?" he demanded.

The look Sandoval gave him was one of pure exasperation.

"I mean, the Embassy is guarded 24 hours a day," Liam pointed out rapidly, wanting to avoid another lecture on the fact that he was a target. He was only too aware of that fact, and didn't feel like having it repeated yet again. "You didn't have to stay here."

"It was the most convenient way to handle the situation," Sandoval replied evenly. "Would you have done any differently in my position?"

Liam paused for a moment. Well, he's definitely got me there... "No," he admitted, "I wouldn't. But I've got a much better idea for tonight."

Sandoval turned around to face him. "You are not staying at your apartment, Major," he said firmly.

"I wasn't going to suggest that," Liam protested innocently. He had considered using that option to try to soften Sandoval up for his real suggestion, but only for a moment. Sandoval had put his foot down about it last night, and it was more than likely that bringing it up again would have only irritated him - with the result that they would end up spending another night in the Embassy, which was exactly what Liam was trying to avoid.

"So what did you have in mind?" Sandoval asked, his tone wary.

"Your apartment," Liam replied.

Sandoval just stared at him.

"It makes sense," Liam said persuasively. "I want to sleep in a real bed tonight; and you look really tired, Sandoval - I'd much prefer that you be at your best tomorrow. That means not trying to sleep in a cot here at the Embassy. And since you've already made it clear that my apartment isn't an option, that leaves yours."

Sandoval still looked sceptical, but he was at least listening to Liam. That was good; Liam had no doubt that it would be much easier to convince him to go along with this now, rather than when he was fully awake.

"And if you're worried about security," he continued rapidly, "we can always get a squad of Volunteers to act as an escort." Liam hesitated, and then let his own concern show. "You really do look exhausted, Sandoval. This whole mess interrupted what was supposed to be your vacation, and it isn't fair to you. Between an escort of Volunteers, you, and not being at my place, I think it should be safe enough."

"All right," Sandoval said finally, sighing. He rubbed the bridge of his nose again. "I'll get Captain Jardine to send a squad to meet us here in a few hours."

Good. Liam smiled in satisfaction. "Until then, want to help me with the paperwork?" he offered then, knowing how his father would respond.

"No thanks, Major," Sandoval replied. "I've still got some work to do."

I wonder what he's working on? "Well, the offer will remain open," he declared, grinning.

"I'll remember that," Sandoval threw over his shoulder as he turned to leave.

Liam waited until Sandoval was gone, and then leaned back in his chair and opened his hands, staring down at his palms and the dark red marks they now bore.

So what do I do now?

Augur leaned forward and frowned at the screen in front of him. "Are you sure about this?" he demanded.

Holo-Lorna looked insulted - a look she did quite well, Augur noticed absently. "Of course I am, Augur," she told him. "I don't make mistakes like this."

"No, you don't," Augur admitted, looking back at the screen. "I'm sorry - I'm just worried about Liam."

"But it isn't Lieutenant Colonel McKenna who's been accessing these files," Holo-Lorna pointed out.

"No, which is a partially good thing - it means that McKenna doesn't know what's really going on, which can only be to Liam's advantage. The problem is that it's the same Fed who was checking Liam's records - Andrew Patterson - and whatever the FBI finds out, Sandoval finds out," Augur explained. "Which is a very bad thing."

"Should we let Major Kincaid know?" Holo-Lorna suggested.

After thinking for a minute, Augur shook his head. "No, not yet. He's got enough on his plate right now with McKenna after him. We'll wait until they catch McKenna, and then tell him.

"Meanwhile, Lorna, I'd like you to keep a tracer on Patterson. I want to know everything he does, every file he tries to access; the more we know about what he's doing, the better prepared we'll be to deal with it."

"Whatever you say, Augur," the hologram replied.

As she got to work, Augur stood up from the console and started pacing.

When he'd first set up the persona and records of 'Major Liam Kincaid', the kid had only been about twelve hours old and the real Liam Neville Kincaid was, as far as everyone was concerned, missing in action and presumed dead.

He'd known as soon as they met Colonel Zeke - the real Liam Kincaid - that things were liable to get complicated down the road. Sure, the Colonel had given Liam permission to keep using his identity, but what would happen after the Taelons had been stopped? Would the Colonel want to reclaim his identity? And where would that leave Liam?

The one thing he hadn't anticipated was this.

All the information about Operation Dark Knight was very, very carefully hidden. There were files on all personnel involved in ODK, as well as operating details and the like, stored in a mainframe, but it was buried so deeply that all his probing when he'd been setting up Liam's identity hadn't garnered even a hint of it.

As much as Augur hated to admit it, Bettis - who was apparently in charge of all computer-related security for ODK - was as much of a genius as he was when it came to making computers behave. He had hidden everything on ODK so well that if he hadn't shown Augur exactly how to get at it, Augur would have never even known where to look.

And once he'd found out, Augur had gone and added an extra layer or two of security on top of Bettis', using his knowledge of Taelon technology to help bury the information even deeper.

Only now it seemed that Andrew Patterson, FBI agent, had managed to gain access to at least one layer of the ODK files. Augur wasn't entirely certain what it was that he had accessed, but it had definitely been something.

Taking a deep breath, he sat down on the couch and leaned back. He'd sent a message to Bettis, alerting him about the security breach; he'd just set Lorna up to do a full trace program on Patterson... Now, all he could do was wait.

Wait, and worry about Liam.

Liam yawned as he used his left hand to push himself away from his desk, and glanced at his watch. His eyes widened in surprise as he noticed the time - eight o'clock?! Had he really been working for three hours straight?

Looking back at his desk, and taking in the amount of paperwork in his 'completed' pile, he grinned ruefully. I guess I have been working that long, he admitted.

He'd managed to find a pair of lightweight fingerless gloves in one drawer - a gift Lili had given him after he'd explained to her how he'd re-joined Da'an to the Commonality, and showed her the marks on his palms that revealed the presence of his shaqarava. The next morning, she'd presented him with the gloves - "Just in case you need to keep your hands hidden," she'd told him. "Not all Taelons are as... willing to overlook things as Da'an." Not that he'd needed her to tell him that...

Thank you, Lili, he thought now, pulling on the gloves and stretching his hands. His shaqarava were still itching - worse than ever, in fact - but he was determined to ignore it. For the moment, his immediate concern had to be dealing with the assassin; after McKenna was dealt with, he'd figure out what to do about his shaqarava. But for now, they were just going to have to wait.

So, where is Sandoval? he wondered.

Standing up, he walked over to the exit, nodding to the Volunteer currently standing guard - Private Lucy McGillam, her name was.

"Have you seen Agent Sandoval recently, Private McGillam?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," McGillam replied. She gestured toward the Embassy entrance. "Your security escort just arrived; he went out to meet them."

Liam gave her a smile in response. "Thank you, Private," he said, and started in the direction of the entrance. This time he wasn't as startled as she fell into step just behind him, though he felt more than a touch exasperated. It wasn't as though he was actually going to leave the Embassy - at least, not until Sandoval had their escort all ready...

They're concerned for you, Liam, he thought, reminding himself of his father's words earlier. They want to express their concern; and as long as they're not leaning over your shoulder and getting in your way, it isn't really that much of an inconvenience, is it?

Of course, the fact that a prisoner is escorted the same way doesn't help...

Liam shook his head, a bit irritated with himself. Why was he being so pessimistic lately?

Oh, maybe it's because there's an assassin after you; Zo'or's acting strange - almost nice - to you; Renee and Doors have essentially stabbed you in the back - again... Not to mention the little game you're playing with Sandoval, dropping clues here and there, and the matter of your shaqarava reappearing...

Stopping in the middle of the corridor, Liam rubbed his left hand roughly over his face. Brooding wouldn't solve anything, and it wasn't really his way, either. It was just a combination of fatigue, residual effects from the painkillers, and the fact that he was a target at the moment, that was all. As soon as they caught McKenna, things would go back to normal.

Well, as normal as things get around me, at any rate, he reflected ruefully, but the thought didn't have the same undertone of pessimism as the rest of what he'd been thinking.

"Are you all right, Major?" McGillam asked, her tone concerned.

Liam smiled at her again. "Just tired," he replied, fighting back another yawn. "It's been a very long week so far, and it isn't even over yet."

The smile he got in response was sympathetic. "I can imagine," McGillam said, shaking her head. "Forgive me for saying so, sir, but there are times when I'm very glad that I'm just a Volunteer."

Before Liam could come up with an answer to that, they arrived in the main lobby of the Embassy. There was a group of five Volunteers standing in the centre of the lobby, and Sandoval was walking toward them.

"Major, I was just about to come and get you," Sandoval said as he approached. "Are you ready to leave?"

"More than ready," Liam replied fervently. At last, he was going to be able to get out the Embassy. "I think I actually managed to clear my desk."

Sandoval gave him a faint grin. "For the moment, at least," he said, and the grin widened as Liam's expression showed his dismay at the thought.

"Well, everything I've had up to now is done, and like I said, I am more than ready to get out of here."

Sandoval nodded, and then gestured to the team of Volunteers, who surrounded the two Companion-Protectors to escort them outside. Liam gave McGillam a nod and a friendly wave, and then went along with 'his' security.

The trip to Sandoval's apartment was spent in silence. Liam was starting to feel just a little uncomfortable, as he realized that this would be the first time that he'd ever been to his father's place, and he had the distinct feeling that Sandoval was uneasy about this idea as well. However, it was too late now for second thoughts.

When they reached Sandoval's building, four of the Volunteers got out of the car with them, while the fifth one - the driver - parked the car across the street and settled in. Staking the place out, Liam realized, in an effort to make sure that McKenna didn't show up.

Their entrance caused a number of stares from people scattered around the luxurious lobby, and Liam had to stifle an inappropriate giggle as he remembered Renee's story of how she'd gotten hold of the names of the missing Resistance members after the crackdown, and her description of the doorman's reaction.

The reaction this time wasn't quite as... surprised... but Liam still felt a prickle between his shoulderblades as the stares fixed on him. He didn't like being the centre of attention; a large part of his effectiveness, both as Da'an's Protector and as the leader of the Resistance, was that he stayed out of the spotlight.

He shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably, and then bit down on a moan of pain as the movement sent a spasm of agony through his right side. Not a wise thing to have done.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Sandoval eyeing him with concern - he'd obviously heard the stifled moan. Liam tilted his head at his shoulder in a rueful movement, and Sandoval nodded in acknowledgement.

As soon as the elevator doors closed behind them, Liam felt himself start to relax a bit. Yes, he was still surrounded by four Volunteers and Sandoval - which wasn't the most comfortable position for him to be in, even if they were only concerned for his safety - but at least he was away from all the stares.

Then, realizing that Sandoval was talking, he focused his attention on his father.

"I want two of you outside the apartment door at all times," Sandoval was saying to the Volunteers. "When your relief comes on, let them know that as well. As for the other two, one of you join Corporal MacDougall in the car, and the other I want stationed in the lobby. Keep an eye on everyone who comes in or out. You've all been given McKenna's picture; keep a sharp eye out for him. Remember that he's a skilled intelligence operative, and may choose to show up in disguise."

"Yes, sir," the Volunteers chorused as the elevator stopped and the door opened.

One of the Volunteers went out first, checking the hall, and then gestured back to them that it was all clear. Sandoval and Liam followed him out - Liam feeling a bit ridiculous at the elaborate security precautions, but at the same time acknowledging that they were probably a wise idea, if only to keep in practice - and they were, in turn, followed by a second Volunteer. The other two took the elevator back down to the lobby.

Liam followed Sandoval into the apartment - after the Volunteers had given it a once-over and come back out to the hall - and looked around curiously.

The layout was open and roomy, with light cream-coloured walls; a far cry from what might have been expected of the cold Implant personality his father projected to the outside world. The atmosphere was relaxing, and Liam found himself liking the place almost immediately.

"Spare bedroom's that room over there," Sandoval said suddenly, interrupting Liam's inspection of the apartment and pointing to a door on the far side of the main room. "The kitchen's just down that hall, if you want to grab something to eat - though there isn't much there. Bathroom's next to the kitchen."

Liam nodded, and then yawned. "Ummm... If you don't mind, I'll just go to bed," he mumbled through the yawn. "I may have gotten a lot of sleep last night, but I'm afraid I'm tired again."

"That's quite all right, Major," Sandoval replied, not sounding the least bit surprised. "As I said, the spare room's right over there. Make yourself comfortable, and I'll see you in the morning."

Liam nodded, and headed over to the door Sandoval had indicated.

The spare bedroom was... cozy, Liam decided, closing the door and looking around the room. It wasn't large, but it wasn't too small either.

He smiled as a line from a story Sandoval had liked as a young child crossed his mind: "And then she tried Little Bear's bed, and that was neither too high at the head, nor at the foot, but just right."

Well, he was no Goldilocks, but that was the impression he got from the room - that it was 'just right'.

Turning on the lamp set in one corner of the room, he sat down on the bed and pulled off his jacket, draping it over the small bedside table. Slipping out of his shoes, he pulled back the sheets and slipped into the bed, closing his eyes.

Feeling strangely secure, it didn't take long before he was curled up under the covers, sound asleep.

Sandoval sighed as he walked into his bedroom. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he started to slip off his jacket, and then heard a slight crackling noise. Reaching into the pockets, he pulled out a piece of paper. Too tired to pay attention to what it said at that moment, he just put it down on his bedside table next to the birthday card from his son and forced himself to get up and hang his jacket up in the closet.

Getting ready for bed didn't take very long, and within ten minutes, he was lying down under the covers.

As he had every night since he'd first received them, he looked at the two pictures that rested on the bedside table - the pictures of his son - before turning off the light and settling down to sleep.

Sandoval pushed open the door of the restaurant and watched in amusement as his son raced in and headed straight for the video games.

"Which one do you want to play?" Sandoval asked, digging a handful of quarters out of his wallet. The game would keep the boy occupied while Sandoval ordered their dinner.

"Fighter Pilot!" his son exclaimed, the boy's tone telling him that his choice should have been obvious - that was what he wanted to be when he grew up, after all.

Sandoval grinned as he handed over the pile of quarters. "I'll be back in a few minutes," he said. "Try not to use up all the money."

The four year old turned a scornful expression on his father, and then focused his attention on the game.

His grin widening, Sandoval went up to the counter and ordered a BLT for himself, and a chicken burger, fries and a small salad for his son.

"And I'll have a cheeseburger," said a familiar voice from behind him, and he turned to see Siobhan Beckett standing there.

"All right... A cheeseburger, and three small Sprites," Sandoval told the server.

He and Beckett waited in companionable silence as their order was prepared, both of them enjoying the relative peace of the family-oriented restaurant. It was very different from where they spent most of their time, and as such a welcome relief from the normal world.

The server put their order on the tray, and as Sandoval paid, Beckett gave him a startled look. "All that for the lad?" she asked, gesturing to the burger, fries and salad.

Sandoval shrugged. "He's a growing boy," he replied. "He's always hungry."

Picking up the tray, he retraced his steps to the video arcade, with Beckett at his side.

His son was absorbed in the game, and Sandoval looked on, amused - and with a touch of pride as well - when he noticed both the high score and the fact that the pile of quarters seemed to be only missing one coin. The boy had the reflexes to become a pilot, at least.

Waiting until he was between levels, Beckett came up behind him and said, "Excellent job, lad!"

"Mother!" the boy squealed in delight, spinning around and throwing his arms around Beckett's waist in a hug. "You're back!"

"Aye, lad, that I am - for a little while, at least. So, is the great fighter pilot goin' to join his father and I for dinner?"

"'Course!" the boy exclaimed. Picking up the pile of quarters, he put them on the tray Sandoval held out and latched onto Beckett's hand as they went to find a table.

They sat down, and Sandoval handed the food out, and then looked at his son with a slight frown. The boy was sitting quietly - which was unusual enough to put him on alert - and was staring down at his hands with a strange expression on his face.

"What is it?" Sandoval asked.

The boy raised his head, and his light grey-green eyes met Sandoval's. "Look, Father," he replied, holding his hands out, palms up, for Sandoval's inspection.

Sandoval obediently glanced down at them, and felt his eyes widen in shocked surprise as he saw the brilliant white light emanating from his son's hands.

Looking back up to ask a question, he abruptly found himself facing Liam Kincaid. The Major's light eyes, illuminated by the glow of the shaqarava shining from his open hands, were fixed on his.

"Can you see, Sandoval? Do you see? Do you understand now?"

Sandoval woke up with a jerk, to find himself sitting up in bed, breathing hard.

It was the same dream. His son, Beckett, Kincaid, shaqarava... the same dream.

Why--

Wait a minute. Shaqarava?

Sandoval frowned thoughtfully.

He had been having the dream for the past five or so weeks, since just before the incident at the Cloister.

Yet he'd just found out Friday morning - only two days ago - that his son was a hybrid... which meant that he most likely did have shaqarava.

So why had his dreams of his son always involved shaqarava?

Could he have known, somehow, before Dr. Curzon had told him?

But how?

Shaking his head, Sandoval sighed as he stood up. It's too early to worry about this, he thought, glancing at his watch to confirm his estimate of the time. He was right - it was just past seven o'clock.

He quickly got dressed and opened his bedroom door, and was surprised at the appetizing smells coming from the kitchen.

Kincaid was sitting on the couch in the main room, fully dressed and reading one of the books from Sandoval's shelves - The Brothers Grimm: Fairy Tales, Sandoval noted.

"Major?" he inquired.

Kincaid looked up, a slightly sheepish expression on his face. "I hope you don't mind," he said, gesturing with the book, "but I've been up for a couple of hours and was getting a bit bored..."

Sandoval shook his head. "No, it's all right, Major. I was just wondering what smelled so good."

Kincaid gave him a shy smile. "It's a Western Omelette," he replied proudly. "Sergeant Higgins was getting breakfast for the other Volunteers, and called up to check if we wanted anything. I asked him to pick up the ingredients, and he dropped them off an hour or so ago, along with some clothes from my apartment. I've already eaten, but I put yours in the oven to keep warm."

"Thank you, Major," Sandoval said, touched. He'd hardly expected Kincaid to make breakfast for them; in fact, he'd intended to have one of the Volunteers pick something up and bring it to them at the Embassy.

The Major's smile widened. "You're welcome, Sandoval," he replied, and then returned his attention to the book.

Going into the kitchen, Sandoval opened the oven and took out the plate, then took it to the table to eat. Out of habit, he opened his global to check his messages.

There were two. The first was from Captain Jardine to say that the Volunteer squads who would be providing security for Kincaid at the festival had been fully briefed on the operation, and would be in position by nine o'clock, half an hour before Da'an was due to arrive.

The other message was encrypted, with a header that indicated it was a secure transmission. Andrew, I hope...

Entering his key, Sandoval watched as the message decrypted itself.

"Ron, this is Andrew. It's about... 1:15 Sunday morning. I'm heading home to get some rest, but I've got some urgent information for you. Very urgent. As in 'you-should-have-seen-this-a-year-ago' urgent. Give me a call as soon as you get this."

Frowning, Sandoval linked to the FBI secure communications net and called Andrew. He got a voice message that simply told him to leave a message at the sound of the beep.

"Andrew, this is Ron. Just got your message. It's 7:30 Sunday morning. I'll be at the Washington Embassy from about 8:15 to 9:15 this morning, if you need to reach me; after that, I'll be occupied until about 3p.m. down in Arizona. I'll talk to you later."

Closing his global, Sandoval started in on his breakfast - and felt a touch of surprise. Kincaid had cooked his omelette exactly the way he liked it, right down to the dash of pepper. How had he known?

More questions. The man is nothing but a huge question mark!

Pushing the thought away for the moment, Sandoval concentrated on enjoying his meal. It had been quite a while since he'd last had a homecooked breakfast - quite a while since he'd had the leisure to prepare one - and he fully intended to enjoy it as much as possible. He'd worry about everything else later.

Fifteen minutes later, he, Kincaid, and Kincaid's escort left his apartment building for the Embassy. Sandoval was quite pleased at the level of alertness displayed by the Volunteers; they were one of his elite teams - not the thugs he used for some of the missions Zo'or and the Synod ordered, but the best of the best.

He was also pleased at the respect they obviously held for Major Kincaid, though once again the younger man appeared to be completely oblivious to their reactions to him. His special teams rarely had anything to do with the Embassy guards, and had never before had anything to do with Kincaid. That they respected him the same way the guards did implied that Kincaid's reputation was well-established among the Volunteers, which could prove quite useful - assuming Andrew's information proved that Kincaid could be trusted, that was.

They arrived at the Embassy without incident, although Sandoval didn't relax until Kincaid was safely within the confines of the building. He was only too well aware of McKenna's skill at long-distance assassination - he'd witnessed it firsthand during the S.I. War. He didn't want to see it demonstrated again on Kincaid.

He dismissed the Volunteer team - they'd been on duty for six hours straight - and told them to get some rest, and be ready for another shift tonight. He hoped that the plan to catch McKenna would work, but he wasn't certain of it. It would be better to be prepared, just in case it did fail.

Private Lannart met them just inside the lobby.

"Sirs," he said, saluting them both, "Corporal Roberts is already here. He's waiting for you in Da'an's office."

"Thank you, Private," Kincaid said, smiling at the Volunteer and waving his left hand casually in response to the salute. Sandoval couldn't help but notice the fingerless glove Kincaid was wearing, and wondered absently if it had anything to do with why the Major had been scratching his hands yesterday.

Lannart followed them as they walked down the hall to Da'an's office, and stationed himself outside the door.

As they entered, Corporal Roberts stood up from the chair he'd been sitting in and saluted.

"As ease, Corporal," Kincaid said, walking over and sitting down behind his desk. He activated his terminal and called up the map of the festival grounds.

Before Sandoval could begin briefing the pilot on his role in the plan to capture McKenna, another Volunteer - one of the Embassy guards - appeared in the entrance.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, sirs, but there's someone here to speak to Agent Sandoval," the Volunteer said.

"Who is it?" Sandoval demanded, irritated.

"FBI Special Agent Andrew Patterson, sir," the Volunteer replied. "He says it's urgent."

Sandoval glanced at his pocket-watch and grimaced. It was only 8:20; he'd hoped to have the opportunity to go over the plan - in general, at least - with Kincaid and Corporal Roberts before being interrupted. Couldn't you have been a few minutes later, Andrew? he wondered.

Turning to Kincaid, he said, "I'm afraid it really is urgent, Major; I've had Agent Patterson looking into something important for me. If you'll excuse me for a few minutes...?"

"Of course, Sandoval," Kincaid replied calmly.

Sandoval nodded to both Kincaid and Roberts, and then followed the Volunteer out of Da'an's office and toward the lobby.

"I'll meet him in here," he said, stopping as they reached the room he'd been using as an office for the past two days. "Could you please show him in?"

"Of course, sir," the Volunteer replied calmly, and headed toward the main lobby.

Sandoval sat down at the desk and waited patiently.

About two minutes later, the Volunteer reappeared with a rather haggard-looking Andrew trailing behind him.

"Thank you, Sergeant," Sandoval said.

"You're welcome, sir," the Volunteer said, saluting, and then closed the door as he left.

"Nice setup," Andrew commented, sinking down into the chair in front of the desk and looking around the room. "This your office?"

"No, my office is on the mothership. I'm just borrowing this one while I'm guarding Major Kincaid." He frowned. "You look like hell, Andrew."

"You're hardly one to talk," his friend retorted, then rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm just tired - I've spent about fifty of the past sixty hours working on that little puzzle you gave me."

Sandoval's frown deepened. "The message you left me this morning said that you were going to bed," he commented.

"I did," Andrew replied, yawning.

"Well, it doesn't seem to have done you much good," Sandoval pointed out.

"It's the only sleep I've gotten since Friday morning," Andrew explained. "Which reminds me; I hope you're willing to sign off on my request for hazard duty pay for this one. I spent a good three-quarters of those fifty hours of work digging into the US Military databases, and trying to avoid both their traps and the ones set by your Major Kincaid's friend, Augur. Whose real name, by the way, is Marcus Devereaux; he's got quite the interesting record. He's--"

"Fine," Sandoval interrupted. "I'll sign off on it. And I'm not interested in Augur; I'm interested in Kincaid.

"And that reminds me; why did you come here rather than just send me the information you've got by secure link?"

Andrew's expression became wary. "Because even the most secure link can be compromised, Ron; and believe me, this is not information that you want to get out."

"And why is that?" Sandoval demanded.

"Because this is big, Ron. This is really, really big," Andrew replied.

"Well?"

"Bear with me on this, okay? I'm going to lay it out for you bit by bit so that you understand how I got to the point I did." He must have seen the impatient look that crossed Sandoval's face, because he added, "It's important, all right? I don't know exactly what's going on - I haven't been able to figure that out - and I think you're going to need all the information I can give you."

Sandoval sighed. "All right, Andrew, go ahead," he said, leaning back in his chair. Andrew would do so anyway, and it was easier to go along with him than argue and waste more time.

"Well, you already know the first thing I discovered - that according to his records, Major Kincaid's brainwave patterns are identical to those of Jonathan Doors. I suspect that his friend Augur thought it might be an amusing practical joke - from the records on him, Augur has an... interesting sense of humour."

"He owns a bar called the Flat Planet Café," Sandoval said with a grimace.

Andrew grinned. "Yep, weird sense of humour... my kind of guy."

"That much I know already," Sandoval returned with an exasperated glare. "Go on."

"Anyway, as far as I could tell, there didn't seem to be any more anomalies in Major Kincaid's public records, so I checked his military files. And this is where it started to get really interesting."

Sometimes, I think that if Andrew ever comes straight to the point it will be the end of the world, Sandoval reflected, trying to hold on to his patience - and not succeeding very well. "Will you just get to the point, Andrew?"

"I'm getting there, Ron - be patient," Andrew told him calmly.

Sandoval gritted his teeth. It was a very good thing that Andrew was such a good friend, he reflected. If it had been otherwise, he could never have put up with this. "Andrew, I don't have that much time," he growled.

"Okay, okay." Andrew reached into the briefcase he'd brought in with him and pulled out a huge stack of paper with two photographs on top. One was of Major Kincaid, from his security file; the other was of a group of men, all in uniform, among whom Sandoval recognized William Boone.

Andrew looked at him, and then sighed. "The point... Fine. The point is, Ron, that this man here," he tapped Major Kincaid's picture, "is not Liam Neville Kincaid; or, at least, not the Liam Neville Kincaid who served under William Boone in the S.I. War."

What?! Sandoval stared at his friend in utter shock. That's impossible! "What do you mean? Of course he is--"

"Ron," Andrew interrupted firmly, "trust me on this. They are not the same man." He tapped his finger against the group picture. "This was the first clue. I found it attached to the file of one of the men who died in the Taiwan ambush. This man," he pointed to the man standing to Boone's left, "is then-Lieutenant Liam Neville Kincaid."

Sandoval picked up the picture and studied it carefully. The man Andrew had pointed out was tall, with dark brown - or perhaps black - hair, and was very definitely not the Liam Kincaid that Sandoval knew.

"The first thing I considered was plastic surgery; they have the same basic build, and I figured that he could still have been a POW - some of them ended up taking some pretty nasty damage," Andrew continued, and Sandoval was still too shocked at the evidence he'd been presented with to cut him off. "But then I took a closer look at your Kincaid's file, and found that all the images of the real Kincaid, dating back to his recruitment, had been replaced." Andrew sat back in his chair. "Ergo, your Major Kincaid is not the real Liam Kincaid."

Sandoval got up and started to pace back and forth, the movement betraying his agitation. If Kincaid wasn't really Kincaid, then who the hell was he? All the unanswered questions he had concerning the younger man had just returned back to him, with more added.

"Is that everything?" he asked.

Andrew gave him what might have been termed a glare, if he hadn't been too tired to put much force behind it. "Of course not," he snapped. "That didn't take me all that long to find out at all."

"So what have you been doing since then?" Sandoval asked.

"Like I said, digging," Andrew replied resignedly. "I spent part of that time trying to dig up more info on your Kincaid, but I didn't get anywhere. All his information is falsified, Ron. It's almost as though he didn't even exist before he became Da'an's Protector. So, no luck there.

"But," he added, "I did finally manage to track down the real Kincaid." He tapped the pile of paper he'd dumped on the desk, and Sandoval stopped pacing to give him a curious look. "You would not believe the security they have surrounding that guy's file, Ron. That's what took up the most time - and what I want the hazard pay for."

Sandoval was beginning to regain his equilibrium. Okay, so Kincaid wasn't really Kincaid. That didn't change the things he did know about the man, although it made it much more urgent that he find out exactly who Kincaid really was. "Go on," he prompted Andrew, sitting back down in his chair.

Andrew took a deep breath and lowered his voice. "You've heard of Dark Knight, right?"

Sandoval blinked. I think I'm starting to become inured to surprises, he thought wryly. Between McKenna, the information about his son, Zo'or's behaviour, and now this, he'd had more than enough surprises to fill a year packed into a period of five days.

"Dark Knight?" he repeated, equally quietly. Not that he believed that anyone could hear them, but it was instinctive. This was, as Andrew had said, really really big. "You mean the military's covert underground? The ones who were controlling Mount Weather?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Andrew agreed. "Well, it turns out that Colonel Liam Kincaid is the field commander of Dark Knight."

Christ! Sandoval thought. This situation had just gotten enormously more complex. And to add to it all, the Major had been right in the middle of the Mount Weather situation. Had he and Colonel Kincaid met?

Was it only a week ago that I was looking forward to my vacation, in order to find my son, and the most complicated thing I had in mind was developing a strategy to counter Zo'or's next endeavour?

"Andrew... what do you need in order to determine the Major's real identity?" he demanded. That was the priority right at the moment, especially considering Kinc-- the Major's new position - the position that he had persuaded Zo'or to give the Major. They could worry about Dark Knight later.

"Brainwave pattern would be good; a DNA sample would be even better - and easier to acquire," Andrew replied. "If you can get me his DNA, I should be able to provide you with his identity within twenty-four hours - less, if Augur hasn't set up more booby-traps around the information."

Sandoval nodded slowly. "I'll see about getting it for you," he replied, and then glanced at his pocket-watch. It was going on for nine o'clock; they'd been discussing this for almost three-quarters of an hour, and he still had wanted to run through the plan to catch McKenna one more time, see if he could figure out what had been bothering him about it. "I've got to go; I'll give you a call after I get back from Arizona, all right, Andrew?"

His friend nodded, standing up and returning the papers and photos to the briefcase. "I'll keep these until you have a chance to go through them," he said, gesturing to the case. "I'll show myself out."

Sandoval managed to smile. "Thanks, Andrew," he said quietly, reaching over to shake his friend's hand. "I appreciate your help in this."

Andrew looked at him soberly. "I told you when you got back in touch with me last year that I'd help you with anything, Ron, and I meant it. I don't want you ending up re-implanted with that... that thing, because you trusted the wrong people.

"That said," he added, a touch more relaxed, "the things that I have found out about your Major Kincaid are pretty good. My instincts say that no matter who he really is, you'd be right to trust him."

"Thanks," Sandoval repeated warmly. Then he took a deep breath and pulled his façade back on. "As I said, I'll speak with you later."

Lt. Colonel Gary McKenna frowned as he studied himself critically in the mirror.

He wasn't sure whether or not this thing in Arizona was supposed to be a trap - it depended on whether they'd actually managed to figure out who his real target was, he supposed, since the Synod Leader wouldn't be there. But whether they had or not, one of his secrets to success was to always assume that something this good was a trap.

That didn't mean that he wasn't going to be there. Trap or not, it was the perfect opportunity to deal with his target. He'd be able to get in, make the kill and get out, and they'd be helpless to detect him as he did so. Even if it was a trap.

His frown changed to a smile of satisfaction as he finished studying his reflection. Perfect. They'd never even see him coming.

Picking his duffle bag up off the bed, he slipped out of the hotel room, locking the door behind him. No matter whether he succeeded or failed, he wouldn't be back here.

Liam sat down in the shuttle, still feeling a bit uncomfortable about being the passenger rather than the pilot, and tugged nervously on his gloves. Despite his confidence in the plan he and Sandoval had developed, he was well aware that things could still go wrong.

And to make things worse, ever since Sandoval had returned from that meeting with the other FBI agent, he'd been watching Liam surreptitiously, his expression unreadable.

Ordinarily, even with Liam's intimate knowledge of his father, he wouldn't have noticed. Sandoval had watched him all the time - sometimes suspiciously, sometimes not - ever since he'd first become Da'an's Protector. But over the past several weeks, and particularly the last several days, he and Sandoval had begun to develop an affinity for each other.

But now, something was wrong; Liam could feel the strain on the tentative bond that had been forming between them. Something the other agent had told Sandoval was responsible, Liam suspected.

So what was it?

Maybe I should ask Augur if he can check out... what was his name? Right, Andrew Patterson. If he can check out Special Agent Andrew Patterson. Maybe even find out what he might have told Sandoval.

He tugged on his gloves again, wishing he could scratch his palms. His shaqarava were itching dreadfully; had been since he'd woken up early this morning from a rather ominous dream - or rather, a nightmare.

It had been that shadowy human figure again. Only this time, there had been someone in between himself and the figure; a tall, lean man with thinning blond hair and dark eyes. Lieutenant Colonel Gary McKenna. Even in the dream, Liam had recognized him.

Is it supposed to mean something? he wondered.

Despite what Augur thought - Liam had seen it in his face Thursday morning, when he'd mentioned the presentiment he'd had in Seattle - his visions didn't scare him. Well, not my ability to have visions, anyway, he admitted to himself. There were times when those visions he had did scare him. But the ability itself was something he'd inherited from his mother; and there was nothing he'd gotten from Siobhan Beckett that he feared. Certainly not like he did his shaqarava.

His shaqarava. They were definitely going to be a problem. He'd checked his hands this morning, just after he'd gotten up, and found that the colour hadn't faded any; they were still that dark, angry red. He'd probably be able to get away with wearing the gloves for another few days, but any longer than that and people - like Sandoval, Da'an and Zo'or, not to mention Augur, Renee and Doors - were going to start asking questions. Questions that, at this point in time, he had no idea how to answer.

Although Da'an might... I guess I'm going to have to ask him. He's the only person I can ask...

This has definitely not been my week, he thought ruefully, looking out the front of the shuttle to see that they were about to dock with the mothership to pick up Da'an. Not my week at all.

Da'an was waiting for them in the shuttle bay; as soon as Roberts lowered the virtual glass, the Taelon climbed in and sat down behind Sandoval.

"Everyone ready?" Roberts asked.

"Yes," Da'an replied, and Roberts raised the virtual glass and took them back out.

Ordinarily, Da'an would have been looking forward to attending this festival. The Native American culture - and the way they had managed to keep it intact despite the efforts of the settlers - fascinated him. And he had been looking forward to showing Liam some of the exhibits and demonstrations at the festival; Liam had never been to one before. It might even have provided him with an avenue to begin rebuilding the friendship they had lost.

Unfortunately, Liam was not coming as his Protector; he was coming as bait for an assassin. Da'an would be expected to enjoy himself while his Protector was placing himself in grave danger. It was something that he believed himself incapable of doing. Of course, he was a diplomat, and as such, adept at feigning enjoyment and interest. He preferred to avoid doing that; but this time, it would be necessary.

As they entered ID space, Da'an turned his seat around slightly so that he could see Liam.

His Protector was staring out at the view of ID space, a distant look on his face. Thinking about something - most likely something that had nothing to do with this Lieutenant Colonel McKenna, Da'an surmised.

Then, as Da'an watched, he saw Liam shift uncomfortably and tug at a piece of dark material that covered his right hand. A glove? Da'an wondered, confused. Admittedly, although it was late spring it was still very cool in Washington, D.C., but they were going to Arizona. It would be quite warm there. So why was Liam wearing gloves? It didn't make any sense.

He could ask; might have, a few months ago. Back when there was still some friendship and trust left between them.

Da'an missed the easy communion that he and Liam had shared almost from the very beginning of their relationship; missed that friendship and that trust that Liam had given so freely. But both had been slowly eroded, by degrees, until Da'an had used the trust the Resistance had in Liam to engineer its destruction, and thus destroy the trust between the two of them as well.

As a result, Da'an wouldn't - couldn't - ask. He no longer had the right, not when it was questions of a personal nature.

The view outside changed to that of a plain of scrubby grass as the Volunteer brought the shuttle out of interdimensional - not quite as smoothly as Liam might have done, Da'an noted, but quite well nonetheless.

"Remember, Corporal," Sandoval said, leaning forward in his seat as the Volunteer brought them in for a landing, "keep your sensors focused for any signs of the vaile."

"Yes, sir," the Volunteer replied calmly.

Da'an waited until Liam and Agent Sandoval had left the shuttle before getting out himself. When he exited, the two of them were speaking to a Volunteer who appeared to have been awaiting their arrival.

"Da'an," Sandoval said, turning to face him, "this is Captain Trisha Wang. She and her people will be filling in for Major Kincaid as your security."

"I am pleased to meet you, Captain Wang," Da'an said formally.

"Sir," the Captain acknowledged. "I've already spoken to the event co-ordinators; we are to meet them in that tent," she gestured to a plain, buff-coloured tent, "for the tour of the grounds."

"Thank you," Da'an said. Then he turned to Liam. "Liam... be careful," he said quietly.

Liam appeared to be surprised at the expression of concern. "I will, Da'an," he replied, his tone reassuring. "Everything will be just fine. Sandoval and I will probably join you later, after we've caught McKenna."

"Liam..." Da'an began, not wanting his Protector to get overconfident.

"I'll be careful, Da'an. I promise." Liam paused, and then lowered his voice, obviously not wanting to be overheard. "Da'an... can we talk? Later? There's something..." He hesitated for a moment, and Da'an saw him tug nervously on the glove covering his right hand. "There's something I need to ask you about."

"Of course, Liam. When we get back to the Embassy," Da'an replied, equally quietly. Then he returned his attention to Captain Wang. "If you will lead the way, Captain..."

Lt. Colonel McKenna watched carefully as Kincaid and Sandoval walked away from the Taelon, heading for the perimeter of the festival.

A moment later, the shuttle took off, and McKenna watched as it rose above the crowd and entered ID space.

He nodded, satisfied. Two obstacles down; one to go. Then, finally, he would be able to kill the bastard.

Liam sighed as he looked around. He been past this set of booths twice before already. The first time round, everything had been interesting, and he had to admit that he had dawdled a bit, wanting to see everything. If he'd realized how many times he'd have to go past the same booths, however, he would have left some things for later.

Hearing a hint of music - drums, being beaten rhythmically - he turned to look toward the centre of the festival. Da'an was over there.

Taking out his global, he opened it - and scowled unhappily as he read the program schedule. The music was obviously for the dancing exhibitions, which was something he had been looking forward to seeing. Last week - before the beginning of Sandoval's ill-fated vacation - he and Da'an had been discussing the agenda for the festival and Da'an, noticing the scheduled dance exhibitions, had begun telling Liam about other such festivals he had attended in the past, and had described some of the dances he'd seen in great detail. He'd been so enthusiastic about it that Liam had gotten curious, and had been anticipating the opportunity to see the dancing for himself.

But instead, here he was, stuck on the periphery of the festival and acting as bait, all because some idiot lieutenant colonel whom he'd never met had decided to kill him. He didn't even know why.

Casting a look at his watch, Liam groaned. It had been almost two hours since they'd arrived; two hours of wandering around and making himself look like a target at carefully selected locations.

Sighing again, he re-adjusted his sling to relieve some of the weight on his shoulder, tugged at his gloves - it was too hot for them, really, but he couldn't afford to take them off - and fiddled with his earpiece for a moment.

"Boring, boring, boring," he mumbled to himself.

"Major?" came Roberts' voice. "Did you say something?"

"Just grumbling to myself," Liam replied. "Have you had any luck yet, Roberts?"

Roberts had the shuttle hovering about a mile away; close enough to use the sensors and act as a communications post, but far enough away that McKenna shouldn't be able to spot it.

"Not a thing, sir," Roberts replied, giving a sigh of his own. "No sign whatsoever of the vaile."

Liam sighed again. He knew that Roberts' sensors were calibrated properly; he'd had the Volunteer use the specifications from the information Augur had given him, rather than what Doors had given Sandoval. "Maybe McKenna isn't here at all," he suggested a moment later.

"I doubt that, sir," Roberts replied. "Not that I know what makes an assassin tick, but it doesn't seem to be reasonable that he'd pass up the chance to get at you, sir. Not when he's already tried it three times so far."

Liam frowned. For some reason, something about that last comment of Roberts' made him uneasy. It was true, of course - McKenna had shot at him in Seattle, then again in Africa, and then tried to run him down in Washington. But they knew that already. So why...

Spotting a hint of movement with his peripheral vision, Liam turned around to see the members of Volunteer Squad 3 drift out of the crowd toward him.

"Anything?" he asked, as Lieutenant Kelly Ericsson, the leader of Squad 3, reached him.

"No, nothing, sir," she replied.

Liam sighed. "Well, we've got two more hours of this to go," he muttered, and then sighed again. "Two more hours of total boredom," he added.

Lieutenant Ericsson grinned in response. "Look at it this way, Major; at least it's half over now. And we could always check out the archery competition," she added, gesturing to a range that had been set up nearby. "That might help pass the time a bit."

Liam glanced over at the range, feeling a touch of curiosity. There hadn't been an archery competition the last time he'd passed this way.

A small group of people - a combination of Native Americans wearing traditional garb for the festival and a number of tourists - were apparently competing for some sort of prize. "You're right, that might be interesting," he said.

McKenna shifted position slightly, keeping his eyes on Kincaid and the Volunteers surrounding him.

He'd been right; it was a trap. A very nice one, subtle - probably Agent Sandoval's doing. Sandoval had always had a very devious mind. However, he had detected and evaded traps like this before - and none of the Volunteers running around had spotted him yet, although he'd spent the past two hours tracking Kincaid.

He smiled, and carefully raised his weapon, aiming it directly at Kincaid's heart. In a minute, maybe two, it would all be over...

Sandoval scowled as he wandered around the perimeter of the festival grounds, eyeing the surrounding hills sourly. McKenna could be hidden literally anywhere - and Sandoval still had that nagging feeling that he was forgetting something important - something vital.

His scowl darkened as he noticed members of Volunteer Squad 7 doing the same thing he was, only they were staying a bit closer in to the crowd, attempting to blend in...

Blend in... That... that's what I've been try--

His train of thought was broken as his earpiece buzzed.

"Yes?!" he snapped.

"Sandoval?" came Kinc-- the Major's voice.

"Have you found him, Major?" Sandoval demanded.

"No," the Major replied with a sigh. "There's been no sign of him. And Roberts has spent the past two hours scanning the entire grounds, and says there's no sign of any vaile anywhere around here."

Sandoval frowned. "He's sure of that?"

"Yes, he is," came the reply. "And I am too; remember, we gave him the technical information from my contact, not from Doors."

"Right..." Sandoval muttered distractedly. No vaile... that's important for some reas--

Oh, hell...

"Major! Get out of there - now! McKenna's not outside the grounds - he's in the crowd! Run! That's an order!"

"Wha--" the Major started, and then broke off abruptly. A moment later, Sandoval heard what sounded like a cry of pain.

Swearing bitterly, he started to run through the crowd, even as he opened a channel to the shuttle. "Roberts!" he snapped. "McKenna's in the crowd, near Major Kincaid; he's not using the vaile! Get over there now!"

"Yes, sir!" Roberts replied, and a moment later Sandoval heard the sonic boom of a shuttle exiting from ID space right above his head.

"Major! Get out of there - now! McKenna's not outside the grounds - he's in the crowd! Run! That's an order!" Sandoval's voice snapped in his ear.

Liam blinked, confused, as he tried to sort out what Sandoval was saying. McKenna was where? "Wha--" he started; and then froze as he caught a flicker of light out of the corner of his eye.

An image flashed in front of him, gone almost before he had realized it was even there; a tall man, dressed like a tourist, with a crossbow - and a bolt coming straight for him!

Everything suddenly seemed to be moving in slow motion. Liam spun around, raising his hands in an instinctive gesture of self-defense, ignoring the agony that lanced through his shoulder. Then he cried out in a combination of surprise and pain as he felt the bolt slice into his arm.

If he hadn't moved, it would have taken him in the heart.

Then time snapped back into its normal course, and Liam was aware of the Volunteers who surrounded him reaching for their guns - but only in a very distant fashion. Most of his attention was fixed on the man who stood at one end of the archery range, a crossbow lying abandoned at his feet and another, already nocked, in his hand.

Lieutenant Colonel Gary McKenna.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then McKenna gave him a cold, hard smile. 'Traitor,' he mouthed... and his finger tightened on the trigger, releasing the bolt on a path straight for Liam's heart.

Liam could only stare as the bolt came closer and closer; he knew that he'd never be able to move out of the way in time.

A moment later, he hit the ground as a sudden shove propelled him sideways. A limp weight landed right on top of him, pushing him flat and driving the bolt further into his arm.

McKenna didn't bother to stop and stare at the results of his latest failure; he had only seconds to move if he was going to succeed in getting away. Dropping the second crossbow, he turned and darted into the crowd, most of whom hadn't yet noticed the commotion - their attention was still fixed on the archery competition.

There were shouts from the crowd behind him as the remaining Volunteers gave chase, but he ignored them, just as he ignored the roar of a shuttle coming out of ID space just overhead; unless he had the bad luck to run straight into the arms of another group of Volunteers, they'd never manage to catch him. Not with the amount of chaos their chase was stirring up.

Despite the failure of his attack on Kincaid, a faint smile crossed his face at the thought of the commotion his abortive assassination attempt had created. It was a lesson he had learned well and put to good use over the years. As long as you weren't affected by it yourself, chaos could be one of your greatest weapons.

Sandoval ran through the crowd, pushing people out of his way if they didn't move fast enough. He had to get to Kincaid!

"Sir!" came Corporal Roberts' voice. "Major Kincaid is wounded; and a member of Squad 3 is down!"

Damn it! "And McKenna?" he demanded.

There was a pause, presumably as Roberts checked, and then he answered. "I'm sorry, sir, but they've lost him in the crowd. Sergeant Bracer says he was mingling with the crowd, dressed as a tourist; when they started chasing after him, the crowd realized what had happened and starting panicking. That's when they lost sight of him."

"Have the other squads seal all the exits," Sandoval ordered. He doubted that it would work - not now - but it was worth a try; even McKenna had to make a mistake some time. "What is Major Kincaid's condition?"

"I'm not sure, sir," Roberts replied.

Sandoval thought rapidly, even as he continued running through the crowd. They were starting to get out of his way now, as he got closer to Squad 3's assigned position. "Inform Captain Wang of what's happened," he ordered. Wang - and Da'an - would know that something had happened, since the shuttle was there, but they wouldn't know what. "Then land as close to the Major's position as you can. If he's injured, we're going to need to get him to a doctor.

"What about the Volunteer you said was down? What's their status?" he added.

There was another pause, and then Roberts said, "Critical, sir. She's got some kind of arrow in her chest. According to Sergeant Bracer, Major Kincaid had already taken an arrow in the arm, and McKenna was aiming for his heart; Lieutenant Ericsson pushed him out of the way, but ended up taking the arrow herself."

Damn it! Sandoval had hand-picked each member of his elite squads. While he did know that at least some of them were going to die - in war, that was inevitable - it was still painful when it happened. At least it sounded as though there was still a chance for Lt. Ericsson, assuming they got her to a hospital quickly enough...

Even as he thought this, he could see the shuttle descending a short distance ahead of him; and then he broke through the last of the crowd - most of whom were gathered around what looked like an archery range, staring at the scene of the attack and talking in shocked whispers.

And he stared as well, equally shocked.

Liam blinked at the grass right in front of his nose, slowly realizing that he was still alive. At least, he thought he was still alive; he doubted that being dead hurt this much.

A moment later, he felt the weight that had kept him pinned lifted off his back, and then a Volunteer was crouching next to him, gripping his left arm and asking if he could stand up.

"I-I'll try," Liam replied slowly, surprised at the shakiness of his voice.

With the Volunteer's help, he was able to slowly sit up, but when he tried to stand, his legs were too shaky to take his weight. And to make it worse, the agony from his right shoulder and arm was making him feel sick to his stomach.

"W-what happened?" he managed, trying his best to push away his awareness of the pain.

"Lieutenant Ericsson pushed you out of the way of the arrow, sir," the Volunteer replied.

"Was she hurt?" Liam demanded, alarmed, the concern he felt finally shoving the pain to the back of his mind.

There was a pause, and then the Volunteer replied, "She took the arrow in the chest, sir. It penetrated her vest. The shuttle's coming down now to collect you both."

Damn... "And McKenna?" Liam asked.

The Volunteer looked embarrassed - and ashamed. "He escaped in the confusion, sir."

Liam closed his eyes, and then swallowed convulsively in an effort not to be sick.

"Major... Liam?" came a soft, familiar voice, and he opened his eyes to see Sandoval standing there, a concerned expression on his face.

"I guess the plan didn't exactly work," Liam muttered.

"No, it didn't," Sandoval agreed. Then he frowned. "Major, can you stand up?"

"Tried," Liam mumbled, closing his eyes again. He was feeling so sleepy all of a sudden...

"Can you try again?" Sandoval asked. "Liam?"

"Hmm?" Liam mumbled, not opening his eyes.

"Major!" Sandoval barked sharply.

Sandoval's frown deepened as the Major's eyes opened. The younger man's expression was dazed; it looked as though he was going into shock.

Not that it's much of a surprise, considering, Sandoval reflected, casting a quick glance at the arrow - no, the crossbow bolt - that was still in the Major's arm. They'd have to leave it where it was until they could get him to a doctor, but it would probably be wise to at least stop the bleeding.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a handkerchief and wrapped it around the Major's arm, doing his best not to jar the arrow as he did so. The Major looked pale enough as it was; he didn't want to cause any additional pain.

"San'oval?"

Definitely going into shock, Sandoval thought as he took in the Major's unfocused gaze and slurred speech. "Come on, Liam," he said, moving around to the younger man's left side and putting one hand underneath his arm. "We've got to get you to the shuttle."

The Major managed to get to his feet with Sandoval's help, but he leaned rather heavily on Sandoval as the agent directed him toward the shuttle.

The Volunteers had already gotten Lt. Ericsson's unconscious form settled in the shuttle, with Sergeant Bracer sitting on the floor next to her to hold her steady.

Sandoval got the Major into one of the seats and sat down in the one next to him, then leaned forward. "Washington General, Corporal," he ordered. "And hurry."

"Yes sir," Corporal Roberts said, already calling up the controls and getting ready to take off.

Da'an watched in concern as the shuttle entered ID space, and then turned to Captain Wang. "Did Corporal Roberts say what Major Kincaid's injuries were?" he demanded.

"He was shot in the arm," Captain Wang replied. Her expression tightened slightly. "Lieutenant Ericsson, one of my people, was apparently shot in the chest."

Da'an nodded in understanding. "I am certain they will both be all right," he said confidently, in an effort to reassure both her and himself.

"I hope so," Captain Wang muttered. She then looked at Da'an. "Do you want to continue, or would you prefer to return to the Embassy?"

Da'an hesitated. He definitely didn't want to remain here any longer than necessary; but neither did he wish to go to the Embassy. Based on Captain Wang's description of Liam's injury, it was not serious; nonetheless, he wanted to see his Protector himself. And if this Lt. Ericsson was one of Captain Wang's people, surely she would wish to discover the lieutenant's condition as soon as possible.

"I would like to go to whichever hospital they are being taken to," he replied after a moment of thought. "Did they inform you of their destination?"

"Washington General," Captain Wang said.

"Then let us go."

Dr. Park pulled off her surgical gloves and sighed as she looked over at the bed's occupant. Liam was lying there, eyes closed, still asleep from the effects of the anesthetic.

He looked so peaceful, for once. Young, though not as young as he actually was.

It's hard to believe he's not even a year and a half old yet, she reflected, shaking her head as she remembered the infant she'd delivered. He's too young for this... but he's the only one who can do it.

Tossing the gloves in the bio-disposal bin, she picked up the plastic evidence bag containing the bolt she'd removed from Liam's arm and walked out of the room.

Da'an, Agent Sandoval, and one of the Volunteers who'd been guarding Liam on Wednesday were all waiting for her just outside.

"How is Liam?" Da'an demanded, as soon as she stepped out of the door.

"He's going to be fine," Dr. Park replied. "There were no problems with removing the bolt from his arm, and the additional damage he's done to his shoulder isn't too serious. However," she added sternly, "I'm going to be keeping him here overnight for observation."

"If you believe it to be the wisest course of action, I will not disagree," Da'an replied.

"Definitely the wisest course. I know I said that the additional damage to his shoulder wasn't too serious, but there shouldn't have been any additional damage at all. It's set his healing back by at least a week or two."

Then Agent Sandoval stepped forward, and Dr. Park received the surprise of her life. "May we see him, Doctor?"

Why does Sandoval want to see him? He actually sounds... concerned. Curiouser and curiouser... "He's still unconscious from the anesthetic," she replied, trying her best to hide her shock at Sandoval's request. "He won't be waking up for at least two to three hours."

"Nonetheless, Doctor, I'd like to see him for myself," Sandoval said firmly.

"Very well," she replied; she couldn't think of any reason not to let him. "Oh," she added, holding the evidence bag up, "here's the bolt. I assume you'll need this."

"Thank you, Doctor," Agent Sandoval said calmly, taking the bag, and then he slipped into Liam's room.

A minute or two later, he came back out. "Thank you, Doctor," he repeated, and then turned to the Volunteer. "Corporal Roberts, I want you to guard Major Kincaid until I send a squad to relieve you. No one enters except for Da'an, Dr. Park, myself, and those medical personnel Dr. Park can vouch for personally."

"Yes, sir!" the Volunteer replied, as he came to attention and saluted sharply.

"Good," Sandoval said with a nod. Then he turned to face Da'an. "I'm going to check on Lieutenant Ericsson's status, and then I have some things I need to do. I should be back within the next two hours."

"Very well, Agent Sandoval," Da'an replied. "I shall remain here for a while longer, until you return."

Sandoval nodded to Da'an and Dr. Park, and then started down the corridor toward the waiting room where Sergeant Bracer and Captain Wang were waiting for word on Lieutenant Ericsson's condition.

He walked in to find them both talking to a doctor - one he recognized.

"Dr. Curzon?"

All three turned to look at him. Dr. Curzon smiled. "Agent Sandoval," she replied. "I have some good news; your Volunteer is going to be fine. The point of the bolt nicked her heart, but we were able to repair the damage."

Sandoval relaxed. Both the Major and Lt. Ericsson were going to be fine; that was excellent news. "You performed the surgery?" he inquired.

Dr. Curzon shook her head. "No; I was here observing. The doctor who did the surgery - Dr. Nicholson - was demonstrating a new surgical technique earlier that I was interested in. When I found out that his next patient was one of your people, I stuck around."

"I appreciate your giving us the good news," Sandoval said. Then he turned to Wang and Bracer. "I know you would both like to stay here to see Lieutenant Ericsson, but I would appreciate it if you could join Corporal Roberts in guarding Major Kincaid until I get another squad here. It shouldn't be too long, and you can come straight back here when you're relieved."

Both Volunteers nodded in agreement. "Yes, sir," Captain Wang said, giving him a salute. "I don't think we'll be able to see Kelly for at least another half hour or so anyway, right, Doctor?"

Dr. Curzon nodded. "That's right," she replied. "They've got to get her settled in Recovery first, before she can have any visitors."

"In that case, sir, we'd be glad to," the Captain said.

"Thank you, Captain," Sandoval said, nodding to her.

Then, as soon as the two of them had left, he turned back to Dr. Curzon. "I'm glad to see you here for another reason as well, Doctor," he commented.

"And why is that?"

"I have another favour to ask of you," Sandoval replied. He reached into his pocket and took out a latex surgical glove, in which he'd put the handkerchief he'd used to bind the Major's arm. It was soaked with blood. "I'd like you to extract a DNA sample from this and get it to me."

"Might I ask why?" Dr. Curzon inquired.

"I'm trying to get a confirmation on the identity of the person this blood belongs to," he replied evasively. "I don't want you running a search on the DNA yourself; just give me the information. I've got someone else who will be taking care of tracking it down."

"All right," Dr. Curzon agreed, taking the glove. "I'll take it back to the lab at Bethesda and do a gene analysis.

"By the way," she added, as she turned away, "you owe me one now."

"I'll think of something," Sandoval returned. As she walked off, he took out his global and called Captain Jardine.

"Yes, sir?" Jardine replied.

"I want you to send a squad over to Washington General, west wing, Room 405A. Their orders are to guard Major Kincaid. I want no one to have access to his room except myself, Da'an, Dr. Melissa Park and those hospital personnel that Dr. Park vouches for personally," Sandoval said. "Then, I want you to brief all the elite on the current situation."

"Yes, sir." Captain Jardine frowned thoughtfully. "Would you prefer Lieutenant Abrams', Lieutenant Glover's, or Lieutenant Hartland's squad?" he asked.

Sandoval didn't even have to think about the answer. "Lieutenant Hartland's," he replied. Hartland's squad was one of his elite; Abrams' was regular Volunteers, and Glover's was the Synod's thugs. That would tell Jardine the level of security he wanted for the Major.

"Of course, sir." He paused for a moment. "Sir... about Lieutenant Ericsson..."

"You can tell the rest of Captain Wang's unit that the Lieutenant came through surgery with no difficulties," Sandoval told him. "She's likely to be off duty for several weeks while she recovers, but she will recover.

"Now, if you could get Lieutenant Hartland's squad here as soon as possible, to relieve Captain Wang, Sergeant Bracer and Corporal Roberts..."

"Yes, sir," Jardine replied. "I'll send them immediately."

"Thank you, Captain," Sandoval said, and closed his global. He needed to stop off at home, grab some clean clothes for both himself and the Major, and come back.

Captain Jardine stepped into the briefing room and looked around at the various squad and unit leaders gathered there. He stuck his hands in his pockets for a moment and tapped a small device with one finger, then walked up to the podium.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, people," he said, as soon as the quiet buzz of conversation had died down. "I apologize to those of you who were on your sleep shift when I called, but this is a matter of some urgency.

"For those of you who haven't yet heard, there was another assassination attempt on Major Kincaid in Arizona - and the trap that was planned for Lieutenant Colonel McKenna failed, because he did something that we failed to anticipate." Jardine shot a glare around the room. "He infiltrated the festival as a tourist, rather than taking a position outside the grounds with a sniper rifle, and attempted to kill Major Kincaid using a crossbow. Both Major Kincaid and Lieutenant Ericsson were hit.

"This should never have happened, people. McKenna already tried a sniper attack twice, and he failed both times. His last attempt prior to today was a hit-and-run. This is a professional assassin we're dealing with; we should have realized that he would try something different."

Jardine watched as his statement sunk in. A number of the other Volunteers in the room nodded slowly, understanding what he was getting at.

"The good news is that, although they were both injured, neither one is dead. Kincaid was shot in the arm - not a serious wound; and Ericsson, although she was shot in the chest, has come through surgery with no problems and should be back on duty within a month or two."

Everyone looked relieved at that news.

"The bad news," Jardine continued, "is that McKenna escaped, and is still on the loose." He watched as everyone looked at each other with expressions of dismay.

"So what are we going to do about it?" asked Lt. Victor Pearce, who was Captain Wang's second-in-command.

"That's what this meeting is about," Jardine replied. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the top of the podium. "Agent Sandoval has decided that the elite will be given the sole responsibility for guarding Major Kincaid. He doesn't feel that the regular Volunteers have enough training - and he doesn't entirely trust the Synod's goons not to stand aside if Zo'or decides that they would be better off being rid of Kincaid completely.

"Lieutenant Hartland's squad," Jardine nodded toward Captain MacKierney, Hartland's superior, "is currently taking the first shift at the hospital. Lieutenant O'Shea's squad is already scheduled for one a.m. to seven tomorrow morning. If anyone else's squad wants to volunteer to take a shift, see me after this meeting."

"Captain Jardine, will we be guarding Major Kincaid even when he's in the Embassy?" asked Captain Vassily Nurmanov.

"Yes," Jardine replied simply.

"The Embassy guards won't like that," Nurmanov commented.

"They don't have to," Jardine said. "Our orders come directly from Agent Sandoval. He'll make sure that they understand.

"Now, those of you not on guard duty will be searching for McKenna. I have a copy of his military record, and I'll be distributing it to all of you after the meeting, along with the guard schedule. There are a few highlights that I think need mentioning, however.

"First of all, McKenna is an Army Ranger - one who has fought in numerous smaller conflicts before the S.I. War. He went into Intelligence, and was trained as an assassin. We're dealing with a professional, people - one who's had over a decade of experience in 'dealing' with people that the US government - or the US Army - didn't approve of. That alone will make finding him and dealing with him difficult.

"Secondly, he's determined. He's already attempted to kill Major Kincaid four times over the past five days, using a variety of methods - which means that whatever else he might be after, he definitely wants Kincaid dead.

"The good point to that is that he has failed each of those four times. Even for a professional, that has to sting - especially when his previous record has been... exemplary. He's going to start getting frustrated and angry, which is something that will hopefully work to our advantage."

Jardine looked around at all of them. "As soon as I get the list of squads who will be guarding Major Kincaid, I'll send all of you your assignments by global. Are there any questions before we conclude this meeting?"

Lt. Warren Isaacs, another member of Captain Wang's unit, stood up. "As a matter of fact, Captain, I do have one," he replied. "I understand what you've said about Agent Sandoval feeling that we're the ones most capable of protecting Major Kincaid, but our previous standing orders were to keep clear of him, no matter what. Why has that changed?"

Jardine met his eyes, and then scanned the room. Everyone there looked interested in the answer.

Taking a deep breath, and hoping that Agent Sandoval wouldn't be too upset with him over this, he replied, "Because Sandoval's thinking of bringing him in."

There was a pause, and then the quiet in the room dissolved in a babble of noise as most of the Volunteers present started talking, each one trying to express their opinion.

Jardine let it go on for a minute or two, and then knocked his fist against the podium, and snapped, "Atten-hut!" He was pleased when it took no more than a few seconds for everyone to come to attention. "Agent Sandoval has his reasons for this; and if he decides that Major Kincaid can't be trusted with the truth, then nothing will happen. It is, at the moment, just an idea.

"Now, if I could please see the ones who would like to volunteer for guard duty? I want four more squads, all prepared to stand duty for six hours each. The rest of you are dismissed; assignments and the guard schedule will be sent to you as soon as they have been finalized."

As a group of about seven or eight squad leaders approached him, and everyone else headed out, Jardine fingered the device in his pocket for a moment, and then tapped it again, turning the surveillance devices scattered throughout the room back on. It was time to pull the masks back on.

"Augur, I think you should listen to this," Holo-Lorna said, interrupting him as he was about to start eating his lunch.

"You know, you have the worst timing in the world," Augur snapped, putting his sub back down on his plate. "You're learning too much from Liam."

"This is important, Augur," the hologram said firmly. "Listen." She switched on the television.

"This late-breaking story just in: there has been an assassination attempt on Companion-Protector Major Liam Kincaid in Arizona. This follows less than a week after Major Kincaid was injured saving Synod Leader Zo'or's life during an assassination attempt in Seattle, Washington. Both Major Kincaid and an unnamed Volunteer were wounded, and were rushed to Washington General Hospital in Washington, DC. There were no other casualties..."

Augur shut the screen off and picked up his global. Opening it, he dialed Dr. Park.

"Yes?" Dr. Park said curtly, and then her expression relaxed as she recognized him. "Sorry, Augur; I've just been speaking to Jonathan, and I'm afraid it didn't leave me in the best of moods."

"I'm not surprised," Augur said sardonically. He'd never cared overly much for Doors, but the way the multi-billionaire had treated Liam had made things even worse. "I just heard on the news that there was another assassination attempt; a public one. So, how is Liam?"

Dr. Park sighed. "That boy has either the best or the worst luck in the world," she replied. "He ended up with a crossbow bolt--"

"A what?" Augur demanded incredulously.

"A crossbow bolt," Dr. Park repeated, her tone one of exasperated patience, "stuck in his right arm. He's done some more damage to his shoulder as well, which means that he's going to be stuck with both the sling and the brace for a few more weeks. I'm keeping him here tonight - for observation, and to make sure that he gets some rest."

Augur paused for a moment. "Can I see him?"

The doctor grimaced. "Only if you can come up with a disguise that will let me get you past a squad of Volunteers," she replied. "Sandoval sent them to provide security, and there are two of them standing right at Liam's door, with orders to let only Sandoval, Da'an, myself and any medical personnel that I vouch for personally into the room. The other four are wandering around the hospital, causing trouble." She scowled. "It hasn't been a good day.

"Not to mention I'm expecting Sandoval back within the next hour or so, and he knows what you look like. So it might be a wise idea to wait until I release Liam. I'll tell him that you wanted to come, though."

Augur wasn't entirely happy with that compromise, but he had to admit that parading around in front of Sandoval probably was not a good thing to do. "Okay. Explain to him why I'm not there, will you?"

"Will do," Dr. Park replied, and closed the connection.

Augur tossed his global on the couch and sighed unhappily as he returned to his lunch. He just hoped that Liam would understand why he couldn't be there.

Sandoval walked into the lobby of his apartment building, ignoring the surprised stares cast in his direction by his fellow tenants. He'd gotten some of the same stares when he had stopped at Quantico to drop off the crossbow bolt McKenna had used on the Major.

He was well aware of the fact that he hardly looked the part of the unruffled, immaculate federal agent at the moment. His slacks were dirty from where he'd knelt to help the Major stand up; there was still some blood on his hands from wrapping the handkerchief around the Major's arm; and he suspected that he looked quite haggard.

Nodding to the doorman - who was also staring at him in shock - he entered the elevator, and grimaced at his reflection in the doors as they closed. He looked as bad as he had feared.

A hot shower, first of all. Then clean clothes. Then back to the hospital, he thought tiredly, leaning against the wall of the elevator.

Strictly speaking, he didn't really need to go back - not yet, at least. The Major was going to be sleeping for a while yet, according to Dr. Park; Lt. Hartland's squad was perfectly capable of handling the Major's security - they didn't need him there, looking over their shoulders; and Dr. Curzon was returning to Bethesda to run the tests - and would, at any rate, call him as soon as she had the DNA sample prepared.

However, much as he disliked admitting it, even to himself, Sandoval felt guilty. If he'd been devoting his full attention to capturing McKenna, rather than also searching for his son and puzzling over the Major's mysterious past, this would never have happened. He would have realized that McKenna was likely to try something other than a sniper attack after his first two attempts had ended in failure.

Unfortunately, his attention hadn't been focused. He had been trying to do three things at once, and as a result had missed what should have been obvious.

And how many other obvious things have I missed because of this? he wondered, as he stepped off the elevator and walked down the hall to his apartment. Unlocking the door, he walked in, slipped off his jacket and dropped it carelessly on the floor as he headed for the bathroom and a nice, refreshing shower. For the moment, I'm going to have to prioritize things. The first priority is dealing with McKenna; then finding out who Kincaid really is. Then I can continue to work on finding my son.

Twenty minutes later, Sandoval came out of the bathroom wrapped in a terrycloth dressing gown, towelling his hair and feeling a great deal more refreshed. He was definitely feeling more positive now. He'd already set the wheels in motion to discover Kincaid's real identity, and with any luck, they'd catch McKenna reasonably soon. Either that, or Kincaid would be dead.

Sandoval frowned. That wasn't an idea he cared for at all.

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he tossed the towel in the hamper and directed his attention to his bedside table.

"I'm sorry," he murmured out loud, reaching out to touch the photograph of the four year old. "I'm afraid we'll have to wait a bit longer to meet."

As he withdrew his hand, a crumpled piece of paper fell to the ground. Frowning, Sandoval bent down to pick it up. Before the inevitable question could form in his mind, he remembered that it was the paper he'd taken out of his pocket last night and put on his table to check later.

Opening it, he saw that it was the note with the directions to the restaurant that Liam had scribbled out for him yesterday. He smiled, re-reading it; at the top of the note, Liam had written: 'It's called The Happy Greek, although no one who works there is actually Greek, much less a happy one.'

Sandoval shook his head in amusement. He really does remind me of a child som--

He suddenly froze, staring. He'd started to crumple up the paper to put it in the trash, when his eyes had fallen on the birthday card he'd received from his son.

Slowly, his eyes went from the birthday card to the paper, and then back again. With shaking fingers, he smoothed out the paper, set it beside the card, and compared the handwriting on the two.

The similarities were unmistakable.

But that... that's impossible! he thought in disbelief, absolutely stunned. "No... There is no way that Liam can be..."

The part of him that was the trained FBI agent took over at this point, in an instinctive reaction to the confusion caused by the idea. "Calm down, Ron, think this through logically..." he muttered to himself. "All right..." There was a long pause as Sandoval collected his thoughts.

Let's examine the evidence. He came from nowhere, has been using another man's name and all his information is falsified - including his brainwaves, which doesn't make any sense whatsoever - unless there's something strange about them. Which there shouldn't be... unless... he's not completely human. And Da'an trusted him immediately; trusted him more than can be explained by the fact that Liam saved his life from the Jaridian replicant at Boone's funeral.

And the reason you weren't able to find any record of the photographs being left in your office could be that Liam left them there when he came to pick you up for the party...

Frowning, Sandoval stood up and started pacing back and forth. It was hard - almost impossible - to believe... and yet at the same time, if it was true, it explained a great deal that had been puzzling him about Liam. And it explained at least some parts of his dreams... although not all of them, and not why he'd been having them in the first place...

All right. Let's assume for the moment that it is true, and Liam is my son... Even thinking it seemed surreal. Assuming that's so, then... who was his mother? And his Taelon parent? And why has Da'an kept it such a secret?

Or is there something else going on here that I don't yet know about, can't yet see?

Sandoval stopped pacing, and shook his head. "This is ridiculous," he told himself firmly. "I don't even know for certain that it's tr--"

His global beeped, interrupting him.

Opening it, he pasted a smile on his face when he saw who it was. No sense in letting her know what was going on. "Dr. Curzon. I assume you have the DNA sample I asked for?"

"Yes," Dr. Curzon replied, smiling broadly. "But I actually called to say congratulations on finding him."

"Him?" Sandoval repeated, though he had a pretty good idea whom she was talking about. Oh, God... it is true...

"Your son," the doctor replied, looking a bit surprised - she'd probably assumed that he had wanted her to check it for him. "That blood sample you gave me was from him."

Sandoval took a deep breath. "I wasn't sure," he prevaricated. "I'm glad you were able to confirm it for me. And I appreciate you getting back to me so quickly on this."

Her smile widened. "I'm glad to help, Ron. I assume this means you no longer need the DNA sample?"

Sandoval thought about that for a moment. He was fairly certain that Da'an knew; but also that the rest of the Synod, including Zo'or, had no idea that Liam was a hybrid. Which meant that for some reason, both Liam and Da'an felt it necessary to keep that information secret.

"You're right, I don't need it." He paused, thinking about how best to phrase his request. "Dr. Curzon... because of who I am, it could be very dangerous for him if anyone else were to discover his identity - discover that he is my son. I'd appreciate it if you could see to it that the sample gets destroyed."

She studied him for a minute, and then nodded. "I'll see to it," she said quietly.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied. "I'll see you in a month for your next appointment; you can tell me how it's going then." With that, she closed the communication.

"How it's going," Sandoval repeated numbly. He stared blankly at the global for a moment, and then sank down onto the bed and buried his face in his hands. This was too much. He couldn't deal with it all. And he didn't even know who Liam's other parents were...

So now what do I do?

Sandoval was surprised by how calmly he was taking this. If it had been anyone else, he might have expected them to be a gibbering wreck at this point.

But then, considering the shocks he'd had heaped on him over the past several days, maybe it wasn't all that strange. He wouldn't really be all that surprised if he was simply numb from emotional overload.

The burning question was: now that he knew the truth, what was he going to do about it?

First, I should probably wait until I'm not so numb to make any firm decisions, Sandoval reflected after a moment. And figure out what I want to do.

Well, no, I know what I want to do, he admitted to himself. But it was going to be difficult - very difficult. Before, when he'd thought that his son was a stranger, it had been easier. Easier to imagine them meeting as father and son. Now...

He really didn't know how to handle this. With the antagonism between Da'an and Zo'or, and Liam's ties to the Resistance, they'd been on opposite sides of the battlefield more often than not.

Hell, I've even... Sandoval swallowed, burying his face in his hands again. I've even tried to have him killed more than once! That he was now trying desperately to prevent someone else from doing the same thing made this entire situation supremely, bitterly ironic.

Taking a deep breath, Sandoval managed to regain control. What was past was past; he couldn't change it now.

Raising his head from his hands, he caught sight of his pocket-watch, sitting on his bedside table next to the photographs. His eyes widened as he noticed the time. It was almost three - he'd meant to be on his way back to the hospital by now!

Standing up, he hurried over to his closet, pulled out a suit completely at random, and rapidly got dressed. He'd have to pick up some clean clothes for Liam later; right now, he wanted to get back to the hospital as quickly as possible.

Dr. Park looked up as the door to Liam's room swung open, and barely managed to keep the scowl off her face when she saw Agent Sandoval in the doorway.

As she'd told Augur, it had not been a good day so far. And the fact that there were Volunteers who were under Sandoval's direct command hanging around - hanging around Liam - made things even worse.

"What is it?" she demanded.

Sandoval looked surprised at her brusque tone of voice. "I wanted to check on... Major Kincaid," he replied.

There was a faint, but noticeable, pause before he said Liam's name, and Dr. Park felt a touch of unease. What did that mean? She kept the thought off her face, however, and simply said, "He's not awake yet."

Sandoval frowned. "Why not, doctor?" he demanded. "It's been..." He flipped open his pocket watch and studied it for a moment. "Almost three hours."

"And I said he would sleep for at least two to three hours," she returned, trying to remain as calm as possible. "It's quite possible he could sleep for the rest of the afternoon; not because of the anesthetic, but because he's worn out."

Sandoval's eyes flickered over to Liam, and Dr. Park was surprised to see a flash of concern cross his face. It was there only for a moment, and then it disappeared, but she had seen it.

Concern? Again? What is going on?

"I'd like to stay with him," Sandoval said then, interrupting her thoughts.

Dr. Park thought about that for a moment or two. She didn't know why Sandoval was suddenly so concerned for Liam, but it was obvious that he was, that he wasn't faking it. And she suspected that it would do Liam some good to know that Sandoval was that concerned.

"All right," she replied finally. "If you want to wait for a minute or two, I'll see about getting you a chair."

"Thank you, Doctor," Sandoval said quietly from behind her as she left the room.

Turning back to the bed, Sandoval took a deep breath. With his eyes closed and his expression peaceful, Liam looked extremely young all of a sudden.

He is extremely young, Sandoval reflected ruefully, sighing. Four years old - if that. Based on what he knew of hybrid growth rates, in fact, it was more likely that Liam was even younger.

Rubbing his forehead with one hand, Sandoval sighed. At some point between the realization itself and his arrival back here at the hospital, he'd found himself accepting the fact that Liam really was his son.

He turned back around as the door opened, and watched as Dr. Park manoeuvered a hard plastic chair into the room.

"I'm afraid this is all I could find," she told him.

Sandoval simply nodded, took the chair, and placed it next to Liam's bed. "Thank you, Doctor," he repeated, sitting down.

"You're welcome," she replied. For just a moment, Dr. Park seemed to be studying him, as if trying to discover exactly what made him tick, and then she looked at Liam. "The anesthetic should be wearing off fairly soon," she said. "I had to give him more than the usual dose; Liam has quite a strong resistance to both sedatives and painkillers. He might wake up with a slight headache, but it should disappear fairly soon.

"On the other hand," she added, shrugging, "as I said, he could end up sleeping all afternoon. That's what would really be best for him - so I don't want you trying to wake him up, or keep him awake if he feels sleepy," she added firmly.

"I won't," Sandoval promised. He'd simply been concerned that it was taking Liam too long to recover from the anesthetic.

"I'll be back in to check him in about an hour," Dr. Park continued. "If he does wake up, buzz me." She pointed to the small call button on the wall just by Liam's head.

Sandoval nodded. Then, as Dr. Park left, closing the door again behind her, he returned his attention to his son. Leaning forward, he brushed a strand of hair out of Liam's face, and then sat back to wait.

The first thing Liam became aware of was the sound of quiet voices from close by. The second was that he was lying in a bed, and that both his arm and his shoulder were throbbing painfully.

What happened? he wondered. Then, as he shifted slightly, a stab of agony went through his shoulder, a sharp reminder of McKenna's attack.

He shot me with a... a crossbow?! It was ridiculous - and if he'd heard it from someone else, Liam knew that he'd never have believed it - but he could remember McKenna standing there, crossbow pointed at him, and the sight of the bolt flying toward him.

Abruptly, the voices caught his attention. Still not opening his eyes, Liam focused his attention on them.

"What about the news crews, sir?"

The voice was vaguely familiar; after a moment, Liam recognized it as belonging to Lt. Yeung, one of Captain Wang's squad leaders.

"Get rid of them," said the other voice - Sandoval's - sharply. "It's bad enough they found out what hospital he's in; I don't want them providing McKenna with any other information, however inadvertently. Threaten them with arrest if necessary."

"Yes, sir," Lt. Yeung replied. "Shall I ask Lieutenant Hartland to... 'speak' with them when he leaves?"

"An excellent idea, Lieutenant. Just make certain that they leave," Sandoval said.

Liam frowned to himself. Why did Sandoval sound so angry?

"Yes, sir," Yeung repeated, and a moment later Liam heard a door open, and then close.

He was probably in the hospital, Liam decided, after a moment's thought. That would make the most sense.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

Yeah, I'm in the hospital, he thought ruefully, taking in the white-tiled ceiling and the medical status chart set up by the door.

Turning his head to the side, to get a better look at the room, he was surprised to see Sandoval sitting in a chair next to his bed, studying something on a global. What caught Liam's attention was the fact that Sandoval was dressed in a casual, comfortable looking brown suit, as opposed to one of his regular formal suits; and from the way he was sitting on the uncomfortable-looking chair, Liam guessed that he'd been there for a while.

Licking his lips, he managed to croak out, "Sandoval?"

Sandoval jerked up, a look of surprise crossing his face for just a moment, before the usual impassive mask covered his expression. "Major. I'm glad to see that you're finally awake," he said calmly.

Something told Liam that asking his father why he was sitting here, in Liam's hospital room, wouldn't be a wise idea. Instead, he asked the other question that was weighing on his mind. "Lieutenant Ericsson? How..." He stopped, swallowing in an effort to moisten his throat, and used his left hand to push himself into a sitting position, wincing as the movement jarred his arm and shoulder. He noticed absently that he was still wearing his gloves, which was reassuring. No one had seen his shaqarava.

"She'll be fine," Sandoval replied. "She had to have surgery - the bolt she took when she tackled you nicked her heart. The surgery was successful, and I've been assured that she'll be back on duty within 6 weeks at most." He stood up and pressed a small button just by Liam's head. "Dr. Park should be here within a few minutes," he added.

Uh oh... Dr. Park was going to be furious with him.

A moment later, Sandoval's prediction was proven true as the door opened and Dr. Park stepped in. Liam frowned slightly as he noticed two Volunteers standing by the door before she closed it.

"Good to see you're awake, Liam," she said, giving him a smile. Then she turned to Sandoval. "If you'll excuse us, Agent Sandoval..." she added pointedly.

Liam's frown deepened. He knew that Dr. Park didn't like his father, but usually she was able to keep that under control. Right now, however, she sounded downright irritated.

"Of course, Doctor," Sandoval said, his calm expression never varying - but Liam saw a hint of anger in the back of his eyes. He stood up and slipped out of the room, giving Liam another glimpse of the Volunteers outside the door. This time he had the chance to recognize them - they were from Lt. Yeung's squad.

"So, how do you feel, Liam?" Dr. Park asked, as soon as the door closed behind his father.

"My shoulder hurts," Liam replied, and then coughed.

"I'm not surprised," Dr. Park replied, picking up a glass of water from the small table next to his bed and handing it to him. "I don't know exactly what you did, but the result was quite a bit of additional damage. The collarbone fracture was healing quite well - and quite rapidly," she added, giving him a curious glance, "until you went and made it worse. Quite frankly, Liam, the surprise is that you haven't done any permanent damage to your shoulder.

"What about your arm? How does it feel?"

Liam took a sip of the water, letting it moisten his mouth and throat before he answered. "It hurts too, but not as badly as my shoulder. How bad was it?"

"Not too serious, although you were losing a lot of blood," Dr. Park said. "Quite frankly, the worst damage from this morning was to your shoulder, rather than your arm - thanks to Agent Sandoval, actually. You would have been in a much more serious condition if he hadn't bound the wound at the scene."

Liam frowned thoughtfully. He could vaguely remember Sandoval wrapping something around his arm, but the memory was distant and blurred.

"As it is," Dr. Park continued, "you've lost enough blood today for me to insist on keeping you here overnight. And don't try to argue," she added, noticing the expression on Liam's face. "Da'an and Agent Sandoval are backing me on this. And since it's already a quarter to ten, you're not going anywhere, even if you were to convince me to release you."

Liam slumped back against the pillows, careful not to hurt his shoulder any further. Then a question suddenly occurred to him. "Speaking of Sandoval... why are you so upset with him? I would have thought you'd be pleased that he's agreeing with your decisions."

Dr. Park scowled. "Oh, maybe it's because he has a team of Volunteers running around the hospital, getting in everyone's way?" she said. "Or maybe it's the fact that the guards outside your door have orders to essentially let only himself, me and Da'an in? I've had to personally vouch for each nurse that's needed to come in here, and even after that Sandoval's checked them out before they've been allowed to enter." She sighed. "I know it's for your own safety, and I can definitely agree with the aim of keeping you alive, but I don't like it."

"Trust me - neither do I," Liam muttered. "It feels like I'm living in a prison - and it's only been two-- no, three days."

"And to make it even worse," Dr. Park added, "this is the first time he's actually left this room in over six hours. Each time I've come in to check on you, he's been hovering around, getting in my way."

Huh? Liam blinked in confusion. "Why?"

"You're asking me? I haven't the faintest idea, Liam. I really don't understand what goes on in that man's head. All I do know is that he's definitely concerned about you." Liam blinked again - in surprise this time. Dr. Park studied him for a moment, and then glanced over at his chart. "You should get some more rest. You've had a bad week so far."

"I've just been sleeping," Liam protested, sitting back up. "For the past... How long has it been?"

"Between the shock, the anesthetic and your body's exhaustion, almost ten hours," Dr. Park answered calmly. "Nonetheless, I think you should try to get some more sleep. You may end up a bit groggy in the morning, but your body needs a chance to recover from the damage it's taken, Liam. At least promise me that you'll try."

Liam sighed. "All right, I promise," he replied. "But... there's something I need to tell Sandoval first," he added, as he remembered what McKenna had said just before shooting the second bolt.

Dr. Park looked irritated. "Liam..."

"It's important," he told her. "Very important. It may help us figure out why McKenna's doing this."

Her mouth tightened. "Fine. But as soon as you finish telling him, I want you going to sleep."

Liam nodded in agreement. "Okay."

Sandoval looked up as the door opened and Dr. Park came out of Liam's room. He'd been listening to Lt. Yeung's report of how Lt. Hartland had managed to get rid of the news crews, but most of his attention had been focused on wondering what was going on behind the closed door. How much of the truth did Dr. Park know? After all, she was Liam's doctor of record... And yet, she wasn't cleared for the hybrid project...

Dr. Park came straight over to him. "Liam wants to see you, Agent Sandoval - he says there's something he has to tell you about McKenna."

"Very well," Sandoval said. He started for the door, only to be pulled up short as Dr. Park grabbed his arm. He glared at her icily. "Doctor..."

"There's a condition to this, Agent Sandoval," she said coolly.

His glare intensified. "And what condition is that?" he demanded curtly.

"Liam's been through a great deal over the past five days, and his body's taken a lot of damage. He needs to be fully rested to start recovering - which means that he needs more sleep. As soon as he's told you whatever it is he needs to, I want you to leave and let him get that sleep."

It took a great deal of effort to keep his irritation from showing, but Sandoval managed it. "Of course, Doctor."

Opening the door, he walked in to find Liam still sitting up in the bed, frowning as he stared off into space.

Sandoval took a deep breath. It was going to be difficult, acting as though nothing had changed - but he was going to have to. He wasn't ready to discuss this with Liam yet.

"Major," he said out loud, "Dr. Park said you had something important to tell me?"

Liam's eyes focused on him. "Yes," he replied. "I only just remembered it a minute or two ago. Just before he fired the second bolt, McKenna said something. He was too far away for me to hear, of course, but I'm fairly good at lip-reading. What he said was 'traitor'."

Sandoval frowned, remembering another - now painful - conversation between himself and Liam about treason. "So do you think that McKenna has ties to the Resistance?" he asked, pushing the memory away. He'd already decided that there was no use dwelling on those particular remembrances.

Liam scowled. "I don't know," he replied. "I mean, he may have Resistance sympathies, but I think it's unlikely that he's acting under their orders. Assassination isn't exactly their style, right? At least, they've never shown that tendency before."

Sandoval's frown deepened, but he nodded in agreement. Especially not assassination of a high-ranking member. "I'll look into it, Major," he assured Liam. "Now, I've been informed that Dr. Park feels you need to get some more sleep."

"What about you? Nothing personal, Sandoval, but you have looked better," Liam said, giving him a slight grin. "You probably need sleep as much as I do - if not more so. I've been sleeping all afternoon, after all."

Sandoval couldn't help feeling pleased at this evidence of concern, however disguised, though he carefully concealed it. "I'll be leaving in a few minutes," he replied. "There are two Volunteers on guard duty outside the door, and the rest of their squad is keeping watch on the hospital as a whole. They'll be relieved at one a.m. by another squad, who will be on duty until seven. I'll be back before then."

"Okay," Liam replied. He rubbed his left hand over his face and yawned. "I guess I am tired," he said, sounding surprised.

Sandoval let a smile cross his face. "Good night, Liam," he said, heading for the door.

"G'night, Sandoval," Liam mumbled through another yawn.

Closing the door behind him, Sandoval noticed that Dr. Park had left. Turning to Lt. Yeung and the two Volunteers standing guard, he told them, "I need to go home and get some sleep. Lieutenant O'Shea's squad will be relieving you at one o'clock. Let them know I should be back before the end of their shift."

Lt. Yeung nodded in acknowledgement.

"Until I get back," he added, "Dr. Park is to be the only one allowed access to Major Kincaid. No nurses, no other doctors... just Dr. Park. Relay that order to Lieutenant O'Shea as well."

"Yes, sir!" Lt. Yeung and the guards chorused, saluting.

"Thank you," Sandoval said courteously, and then headed toward the exit.

Renee grimaced and tugged the blankets tighter around herself. "Can't you make this thing go any faster?!" she demanded, shouting to be heard over the roar of the wind.

"Nope!" came the laconic reply from the driver.

"How long will it take us to get there?" she yelled back.

"Another four hours... if it doesn't start snowing again!"

"Great. Just great," Renee muttered sourly, huddling deeper into the blankets. They'd been travelling for the past five hours, and there was still another four to go?!

When it had become clear that the storm around the research station wasn't going to let up any time soon, Aimee Renaud, one of the microbiologists on staff, had suggested that Renee get a ride to the nearest community with an airstrip. It was apparently outside of the worst of the storm, and there was a good chance that she'd be able to at least give Doors a call and arrange for a pickup flight from there. Renee had agreed - after all, she had to be at the meeting tomorrow afternoon.

I'm going to kill them. Slowly and painfully. Starting with Lieutenant Colonel Gary McKenna, as soon as someone gets their hands on him. Then Jonathan. Then Liam and Sandoval. Very slowly. And very, very painfully.

And I am never going to regard travelling by dog sled as 'romantic' again. Ever.

Tugging the blankets tighter again, she shivered. "Four more hours," she muttered. "I really am going to kill you, Jonathan."

Sandoval stopped in the hallway just outside Liam's apartment, pulled out the key Da'an had given him before the Taelon had returned to the mothership, and then paused.

He'd remembered just before he'd left the hospital that he'd meant to get Liam some clean clothes, and so had headed straight here. But now that he was here, he found himself hesitating. It felt a bit strange, walking into his son's home like this.

"Stop being ridiculous," he told himself firmly. "All you have to do is go in, get him some clothes, and leave. That's all."

Taking a deep breath, he unlocked the door, opened it, and walked in.

Sandoval's first impression of the main room was that it was spartan. There were two bookcases, a couch, a chair, a table, and that was it.

Closing the door carefully behind him, Sandoval walked farther into the room. In spite of what he'd told himself outside the door, about only grabbing some clothes and then leaving, he found himself wandering over to the bookcases to take a look.

There was a very eclectic mix of books there, ranging from Charles Dickens' David Copperfield to Sun Tzu's The Art of War, from Isaac Asimov's Foundation to Lady Gregory's Gods and Fighting Men. There was even a first edition copy of A Christmas Carol.

And sitting on one of the shelves was a Taelon puzzle - a puzzle that Sandoval recognized from the pictures. If there had been any doubt left in his mind that Liam was his son, that would have finished it.

Turning away, he shook his head. It's late. Just get Liam some clothes and worry about the rest later.

Sandoval walked into the bedroom. He shot a quick glance around - this room was almost as spartan as the main room - and then went straight to the closet. He pulled out two pairs of pants, a few shirts - loose ones - and a sweater.

Then, as he turned around, he caught sight of two silver-framed photographs sitting on top of a small chest of drawers to the right of Liam's bed. Walking over, he sat down on the edge of the bed and studied them.

The first one was a picture Sandoval recognized as being from the news of the discovery of Ma'el's tomb just outside of Strandhill. It showed himself, Lt. Beckett, Captain Marquette and Boone standing by the entrance to the tomb, with the Irish countryside in the background.

The other was a picture of himself and Lt. Beckett, obviously taken on board the mothership. Whoever had taken the picture - most probably Liam himself, Sandoval guessed - had caught Beckett smiling at something he was saying.

Siobhan... He felt a sudden surge of grief go through him as he remembered her. It had been almost a year since her death, and he still missed her.

Abruptly, his gaze fixed on the photo of the two of them on the mothership.

"You and I are destined to come together. Whether you like it or not." That was what Beckett had told him.

Sandoval took a deep breath. "Could she--" he murmured aloud, and then stopped as his CVI suddenly pulled up a series of memories.

Siobhan Beckett, sitting in his office, rubbing her forehead with one hand. "Have we met?"

Liam standing quietly, his expression far more serious than Sandoval had seen from him, even during the replicant attack. "No. Not in this life, anyway."

Beckett, sitting on her bed in the hotel room, a cloth spread out before her. "Runes. The Celtic form of Tarot."...

Liam, standing on the bridge of the mothership, casually dressed, grinning insolently at himself and Zo'or. "Sowulo, Mr. Sandoval. The Irish rune of inevitability."

Beckett, again, lying in the hospital bed after the Atavus had attacked her. "There's something I wanted to ask you. What did you mean when you said of course Liam and I would be there together?"

Liam, kneeling on the floor of the cave, Beckett's body cradled in his arms. Bending over her, obviously upset, and then looking up to meet Sandoval's gaze, the cool expression on his face not hiding the anguish in his eyes.

Blinking, Sandoval found himself staring at the photo taken on the mothership.

Siobhan Beckett had been Liam's mother. Of course. It all made sense now.

"Did you know, Siobhan?" he murmured. He didn't think so - Beckett hadn't been privy to the hybrid program, so he doubted that she would have found out about Liam, not when even he hadn't been able to... but he wasn't sure. The way she and Liam had interacted... She had known something, he was certain, but he didn't know what.

He rubbed his forehead. He had known all this - his dreams were proof enough of that - he just hadn't realized it. The question was, how had he known? Was it something Liam - or Da'an, for that matter - had said, or perhaps done? Or was there still more to this matter of Liam's heritage?

Whatever it is, I'm not going to get any answers just by sitting here, Sandoval thought, sighing. Time to go home and get some sleep. Maybe I'll be able to figure it out in the morning. And if not, at least I might be able to decide how to talk to Liam about all this.

Standing up, he looked around Liam's bedroom again, this time ignoring the photos. There was a small duffle bag crumpled in the far corner of the room. Picking it up, Sandoval carefully packed the clothes he'd selected. Closing the zipper, he slung it over one shoulder and then headed out of the apartment, locking the door carefully behind him.

Dr. Park took a deep breath, doing her best to conceal her irritation, as one of the two Volunteers at Liam's door stood aside to let her enter.

As she'd told Liam, yes, she appreciated the fact that they were protecting him, and were apparently determined to do so to the best of their ability. In fact, if she were to be honest with herself, she had to admit that she was impressed by the extent of their determination to keep Liam safe.

At the same time, she didn't like Volunteers in general; and she really didn't like having them hanging around her hospital - much less hanging around Liam.

Completely contradictory responses, she reflected ruefully as she walked into the room and let the door close behind her. But then, in many ways, Liam was a contradiction, so it should be no surprise that he seemed to attract contradictory situations.

Liam was curled up on his left side, sound asleep. Dr. Park smiled at the sight - he really did look much younger with his eyes closed - and then turned her attention to his status chart.

As far as she could tell, as of... this morning, since it wasn't quite midnight yet, Liam's collarbone had been well on the way to healing. If she hadn't known that it had been broken on Wednesday - only five days ago - she would have said that the break was at least two weeks old, if not a bit more. An effect of his Kimera heritage, she assumed.

Unfortunately, whatever it was that Liam had done - she'd heard one of the Volunteers mention that he'd jerked his hands up when he'd moved, just before the bolt had hit his arm - it had put too much of a strain on the newly healed bone, and it had fractured again. Not only that, but he'd also wrenched the muscles in his shoulder, which hadn't been as far along in their healing as the bone. And added to that, the damage that the bolt - which had been barbed - had done to his arm...

She shook her head slowly. If it had been anyone else in this situation - having had their collarbone fractured on Wednesday, and then the additional damage done today - she would have said that they'd never regain 100% strength or mobility. But Liam's rapid healing meant that his shoulder had been healed enough by this morning to ensure that there would be no permanent damage. He would have to wear the sling - and the brace - for several more weeks, rapid healing or not, but that was much better than losing mobility permanently.

A moment later, she heard Liam cry out. Turning around, she hurried over to the bed.

Liam had rolled onto his back, and he was tossing his head and murmuring something, his voice desperate.

Leaning closer, Dr. Park reached out to shake his left shoulder, and then stopped, frozen, as his voice got louder and clearer.

"Va'nei, ditera lius o'onarr..."

It took her only a moment to realize that Liam was most probably speaking in the Kimera language. It sounded similar - but not identical - to what she'd heard of Eunoia. That realization - and the fact that his voice was still getting louder - broke her paralysis, and she shook him gently, hissing, "Liam!"

His eyes shot open. For just a moment, he looked completely confused; then he relaxed as he focused on her. "Dr. Park?" he mumbled. "Is something wrong?"

"You were dreaming," she told him.

"Dreaming?" Liam repeated, blinking. He still looked a bit confused.

Dr. Park shrugged, releasing his shoulder and helping him sit up. "You were talking - in Kimera, I think," she explained. "It sounded as though you were about to start shouting in a minute or two, so I thought it might be a wise idea to wake you up, before the Volunteers outside heard you."

"Thank you," Liam murmured, looking away from her. "I... I don't really remember what I was dreaming."

She nodded in understanding. "Why don't you try to get back to sleep?" she suggested.

Liam shivered slightly. Despite what he'd just told Dr. Park, he had no problem remembering what he'd just been dreaming, and he really didn't want to go back to sleep, for fear it would show up again.

It hadn't been the same nightmare he'd been having recently, the one with the dark human figure and the sense of terror. That would have been too easy.

He shivered again, as the phrase rang through his thoughts... "The last of my kind... I succumbed to a biological imperative..."

"Liam?" Dr. Park questioned, frowning. She must have seen the shiver.

Liam shook his head, trying to erase the memory. He didn't want to think about that. Not now. Not when he was closer than ever before to telling Sandoval the truth.

"Liam?" Dr. Park repeated, her tone getting more concerned.

"I... I just... I..." He shivered again, harder this time, and then bit back a moan as agony stabbed through his shoulder, making him feel nauseous again. "Hurts," he whimpered.

Dr. Park raised her hand to touch his forehead, and he flinched away, another whimper escaping as the pain got worse.

Then there was a sharp pinprick in his arm, and a moment later, Liam felt a blessed numbness spreading through both his arm and his shoulder. He relaxed, sagging back against the pillows. He still felt sick to his stomach, but the pain was rapidly disappearing.

"Better?" Dr. Park asked.

"Yes," Liam murmured. "It's gone numb."

Dr. Park sounded relieved. "Good. The reason you're feeling numb is that what I just gave you was a local anesthetic, not a painkiller."

"Still feel sick," Liam mumbled. He was starting to have trouble keeping his eyes open, as the relief from the pain relaxed him even further.

He wasn't sure whether Dr. Park had actually heard him or not, because all she did was touch his forehead with the back of her hand, and then say, "Go back to sleep, Liam."

Don't want to sleep... Liam thought, but before he could verbalize it, a wave of grey seemed to sweep over him, and he drifted off.

Dr. Park watched as Liam's eyes slid closed and his breathing deepened into a sleeping rhythm. He was running a slight fever, but nothing too serious.

Turning to his chart again, she frowned as she studied it. She wasn't sure whether or not she had been meant to hear his mumbled comment about still feeling sick, but she had.

There were a few different reasons that he might feel sick. Concussion was the one that sprang automatically to mind... but according to the tests she'd run, Liam didn't have a concussion.

Another possibility was that the pain was bad enough to be making him feel sick. That seemed to be the most likely, especially considering the amount of pain he appeared to have been in before she'd administered the anesthetic.

Or he might be mildly allergic to one or more of the drugs she'd used on him. In Dr. Park's opinion, that wasn't all that likely - Liam had never shown signs of being allergic to anything before - but it was still a possibility that should be considered.

Or... it could be a Kimera thing. She was the resident 'expert' on Liam's physiology - but all that meant was that she knew more about him than all the other Resistance doctors, with the possible exception of Julianne Belman. She was all too aware that there were a lot of things that she didn't know - a lot of things that she suspected even Liam didn't know.

In fact, that reminded her - she was going to have to talk to him about the problem with his scans when he woke up in the morning.

Sighing, Dr. Park rubbed her eyes. The only thing she could do at the moment was to make frequent checks on Liam throughout the night - which she'd planned on doing anyway. She looked through his chart once more and made a notation about his temperature. Then she checked Liam again - he was back to sleeping peacefully - and left.

Sandoval got off the elevator on the fourth floor and walked down the hall. He could see a group of five Volunteers gathered around Liam's door; two of them in guard position, and the other three - one of whom was Lt. Nancy Cress, one of Captain Wang's squad leaders - chatting quietly, but with most of their attention obviously focused on the closed door.

Taking out his pocket-watch, Sandoval checked the time - 6:45a.m. Which meant that Lt. O'Shea's squad was still on duty - indeed, he recognized Sgt. Higgins guarding the door - and that Lt. Cress' squad was early.

Just as he was about to walk up to them, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him and turned to see Dr. Park approaching.

"Doctor," he greeted her coolly. He hadn't been happy about her attitude toward him yesterday.

Her mouth tightened as she looked at him. "Agent Sandoval," she responded, equally cool. "Can I help you with something?"

"How is Liam this morning?"

A look of surprise crossed her face for just a moment, and Sandoval realized - too late - that he'd said 'Liam', not 'Major Kincaid'.

Dr. Park made no comment about his slip of the tongue, however. "He was running a slight fever around midnight, but his temperature has gone back down since then. Assuming he's not in too much pain or feeling sick when he wakes up, I should be able to release him by noon," she told Sandoval.

"Excellent," Sandoval replied. "I assume he'll have to wear the sling for a while longer?"

Dr. Park scowled. "Liam's going to have to wear both the sling and the brace for another four to five weeks, minimum," she replied firmly. She stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned to face him. "Quite frankly, Agent Sandoval, it's a miracle that there's no permanent damage to either his shoulder or his arm. I've already told Da'an that I want Liam put on medical leave for the next two weeks in order to give him at least some time to heal, and he's agreed to it."

Sandoval nodded slowly. "I'll see what arrangements I can make to facilitate that, Doctor," he said, and once again saw a flicker of surprise cross her face. "Major Kincaid is one of my best people, Dr. Park," he said, not sure why he was providing her with an explanation, but doing so nonetheless. "I need him at the top of his form."

The hostility that Dr. Park had been projecting lessened noticeably at that. "Good," she declared, as they resumed walking down the corridor. "I could definitely use your support when I tell Liam. He'll be... upset."

That, Sandoval suspected, remembering the scene he'd walked into on Wednesday, was a very strong understatement. "As I said, Doctor, I need him at his best," he assured her.

As they reached Liam's door, all five Volunteers came to attention. "Report," Sandoval ordered Sgt. Higgins.

"It's been quiet, sir. No sign of McKenna anywhere. Dr. Park," the Sergeant nodded in her direction, "has been checking on Major Kincaid every half hour or so."

"Thank you, Sergeant," Sandoval replied. He gestured to the door, and Higgins obediently opened it to let himself and Dr. Park in.

"I hope you brought breakfast," came Liam's voice from the direction of the bed. Looking over, Sandoval saw Liam sitting up, watching them.

"No breakfast," he admitted, shaking his head, "but I did pick up some clean clothes for you." He walked over to the bed and put the duffle bag down on Liam's lap.

Liam looked down at it, and Sandoval saw a hint of wariness enter his expression. There was no sign of it in his voice, however. "Thanks - I don't really want to wear yesterday's clothes again," he commented. Then he looked hopefully at Dr. Park. "Did you bring me any breakfast? I'm hungry."

"Yes, I had guessed that much," Dr. Park replied, her tone one of wry amusement. "Actually, I didn't expect you to be awake just yet. Last night was a little rough."

Sandoval frowned slightly, looking between the two of them in confusion. Had something happened?

"I'm fine," Liam countered brightly. "But I really am hungry..."

Dr. Park sighed. "Agent Sandoval - the cafeteria is on the first floor, South Wing. I need to discuss a few things with Liam, so if you could pick him up something to eat?"

Sandoval firmly pushed down his irritation at the suggestion. She's his doctor, he reminded himself. Of course there would be confidential matters she needs to discuss with him. And even if she does know the truth, she doesn't know that I know. "All right. What would you like, Liam?"

Liam opened his mouth to reply, but Dr. Park stepped in. "Toast, some soup if they have it available, and orange juice."

"But..." Liam protested.

"Toast, soup and orange juice," Dr. Park repeated.

Sandoval nodded, and headed back out.

Liam watched his father slip out the door, and then looked back at Dr. Park. "Why can't I have eggs, or even waffles?" he asked.

"I don't know whether or not you remember, Liam, but last night you were complaining about feeling sick. Even if you are feeling much better - which I'm not sure that I believe, by the way," she added, giving him a pointed look, "I don't want you having anything that might upset your stomach."

Liam grimaced. Dr. Park was right - he wasn't feeling quite as well as he was pretending. His arm and shoulder were throbbing painfully - although it wasn't nearly as agonizing as last night - and he'd kept waking up every hour or so, in an effort to ensure that he didn't have that dream of Ha'gel again.

All the same, he was feeling much better than he had been yesterday.

"All right. I won't argue about breakfast," he said finally. "But I am feeling better."

"That's good to know," she replied.

Liam nodded and then looked down at the duffle bag on his lap.

He'd recognized this bag as soon as his father had dumped it on the bed - it was his. Was, in fact, the one he'd tossed into a corner of his room about a week and a half ago, when he'd been looking for the frames he'd picked up for Sandoval's present. He hadn't yet gotten around to picking it up, which meant that to have gotten it, Sandoval had to have been not only in his apartment, but his bedroom.

Where he kept the pictures of Sandoval and Beckett.

Had his father seen them?

Abruptly, another thought occurred to him.

Looking back up at Dr. Park, he frowned. "Why did you want Sandoval out of here?" he demanded.

"There's something we need to discuss," Dr. Park replied. She walked over to his status chart and pulled up an image, recognizably that of a human figure. Most of it was a uniform pale blue, Liam noticed, but there were two bright red areas that corresponded to his right shoulder and arm.

"What is that?" he asked.

"This is the results of your medical scan from yesterday," Dr. Park explained. "The red areas indicate physical trauma."

"So what do we need to talk about?" Liam inquired. "It doesn't look like there's any other problems - it's just my shoulder and arm."

Dr. Park shook her head. "I'm afraid you're wrong about that, Liam," she said somberly. She tapped the chart, and another image appeared beside the first. In this one, the human figure was white, except for the right shoulder, which was the same bright red as in the other image. "This is the results of the scan we did on Wednesday."

Liam frowned, starting to feel a bit uneasy. "Why are they coloured differently?"

"That is the sixty-four million dollar question," Dr. Park said. "Your scan from yesterday should have been white as well, not blue. I even had one of the medical techs ask me if I needed the scanner re-calibrated." She turned to look at him. "Do you have any idea what's going on?"

Liam took a deep breath. It didn't take a genius to realize that this was probably connected with the reappearance of his shaqarava, following as it did right on the heels of that.

Looking down at his hands, he spoke quietly. "Do you remember, a few months ago, I told you that I had lost my shaqarava?"

"Yes," Dr. Park replied. Judging from her tone of voice, she didn't understand the connection. Well, she would in a moment.

"Saturday, Sandoval pointed out to me that I've been scratching my hands a lot over the past several days." Liam pulled off his right glove and turned his hand over, showing her his palm, and the dark red mark in the middle. "I don't know exactly how long they've been like this - I only actually noticed them on Saturday when Sandoval asked me why I was scratching so often - but the itching started Thursday morning, I think.

"Probably that - whatever it is," he said, waving his left hand in the direction of his chart, "has to do with the reason my shaqarava have reappeared."

Dr. Park nodded thoughtfully as Liam slipped the glove back on. "Once this entire mess is dealt with, Liam, I'd like you to come in for a few tests. Maybe we can figure out what's going on."

"I'm all for that," Liam replied, and then quickly shut up as the door started to open. Dr. Park hastily changed the display of the status chart back to the main screen, and they both looked toward the door as Sandoval entered, carrying a tray.

"Oh, lovely," Liam grumbled, in an effort to make everything appear normal, glaring at the contents. "Toast. Are you sure I can't have waffles instead?"

"Now, now, Liam... if you want me to release you today, you'll eat everything that's on that tray - and only what's on the tray," Dr. Park declared, giving Sandoval's selections - toast, what smelled like chicken noodle soup, and a glass of orange juice - a nod of approval.

"All right, you win," Liam muttered. "But I get to decide what I'm having for lunch." He gave his father a faint grin as Sandoval put the tray down on the table beside the bed, and was delighted when Sandoval returned it.

"Liam... There is one more thing I need to mention," Dr. Park added, just as Liam started to reach for the toast.

Liam turned to look at her. Her voice held a note of wariness that told him he wasn't going to like whatever she was about to say. "What is it?" he asked cautiously.

"I'm putting you on medical leave for at least two weeks."

"What?" Liam practically shrieked. "What do you mean, medical leave?"

Dr. Park crossed her arms over her chest, her expression unyielding. "Exactly what I said. I told you yesterday that you did more damage to your shoulder. It's worse off than it was on Wednesday, and I was reluctant enough to let you go back to work then. There is no way that you're going to be doing anything physical for the next several weeks. I've already spoken to Da'an about it, and he's agreed."

"But..." Liam began, and then stopped as she glared at him. Instead, he turned to Sandoval - his father had helped him on Wednesday, after all. "Sandoval..."

"Dr. Park is right, Major," Sandoval said curtly. "Until we catch McKenna, you will continue to stay at the Embassy all day, but you won't be doing anything more strenuous than paperwork. And as soon as McKenna is caught, you're going on full medical leave."

"But..." Liam repeated.

"Don't make me make it an order, Major," Sandoval snapped.

Liam slumped back against the pillows. "Fine," he said sulkily. Then, as Sandoval started to hand him the plate of toast, he turned away. "I'm not hungry any more."

He didn't need to look at them to know that Dr. Park and Sandoval were exchanging looks of exasperation.

"Liam, you have two choices," Dr. Park said. She sounded more than a bit irritated, but right now Liam didn't care. "Either you eat, or I'll be keeping you here for another day."

Liam hesitated, and then looked at her. The expression on her face said quite clearly that she was not joking.

"Fine," he said sullenly, and took the toast.

Doors looked up from his computer as the door to his office was flung open and Renee Palmer, looking unusually disheveled, strode in.

He glanced down at his watch, and then shot a glare at her. "Where have you been? It's almost eleven; I was expecting you an hour ago so that we could go over the agenda for this afternoon's meeting."

Renee met his glare with one of her own. "Don't start with me, Jonathan," she said coldly. "I am not in the mood."

"You have an obligation--" Doors began.

"You should have thought of that before you sent me into the middle of an Arctic blizzard," Renee snapped in response. "I have spent the past four hours on a cargo plane - and ten before that on a dog sled, getting to a location where the plane could land!"

Doors blinked in surprise. "Why didn't you use the emergency portal?" he asked. "The meeting this afternoon is important enough to justify the risk."

Renee froze. "Emergency portal," she repeated.

"Yes."

"What emergency portal?"

Doors frowned. "The one at the research facility, of course."

Renee slowly sat down on one of the chairs facing his desk. "No one mentioned any emergency portal to me," she said, with an icy calm.

"Renee, you know the operating procedures as well as I do. You helped write them up!" Doors said. "All facilities have at least one portal for use in an emergency. That includes the Arctic research station."

"I saw no sign of it on my security inspection," Renee declared, frowning. "And I saw all the rest of the facility - including the thermal baffles."

Doors frowned. That isn't good... "It sounds like there may be a problem up there. After the meeting, I'll contact Dr. Greenbaum and speak to her about it," he declared.

"All ri--" Renee began, and then stopped as Doors' global went off.

Opening it, Doors sighed when he saw that it was Dr. Park. She looked rather frazzled, he noticed absently. "Yes, Doctor?" he said.

"You said you wanted to be kept updated on Liam's condition," Dr. Park answered. "I thought I might as well let you know that I'm going to be releasing him soon."

"So he's fine, then," Doors said.

Dr. Park frowned at him. "He's well enough to be released," she stated. "That doesn't mean that he's 'fine'. He's going to be in a sling and brace for another month or so."

"But there was no serious damage done?"

"Only because he is who he is," Dr. Park replied, her expression darkening. "But no, there's no serious damage."

"Thank you, Doctor," Doors replied, and closed the global.

"What was that about Liam?" Renee demanded.

"McKenna tried again yesterday," Doors explained, leaning back in his seat. "He wounded Liam, and seriously injured a Volunteer. The media is having a field day with this, since Liam's now been officially identified as the target."

"Lovely," Renee muttered sourly. She sighed, and then stood up, brushing ineffectually at her slacks. "I'm going to go get changed, Jonathan. It shouldn't take me more than fifteen minutes. Will we still have time to go through the agenda then?"

Doors nodded. "Just enough," he replied. "The meeting's at one."

"All right; I'll see you in fifteen minutes, then," Renee said. She brushed at her slacks one more time, then gave up and walked out, heading for her own office.

Liam ignored both Sandoval and their Volunteer escort as he stalked through the corridors of the Embassy heading for Da'an's office. He knew that he wasn't behaving like the adult he appeared to be, but right now he didn't really care.

Yes, his shoulder was hurting - and yes, he was willing to admit that he'd probably made it worse yesterday - but that was no reason for Dr. Park to put him on medical leave! After all, it wasn't as though he was actually going to be doing much in the way of physical work - but he was supposed to be taking command of the pilots next week, and he couldn't exactly do that if he was on medical leave...

And Sandoval! How could he support Dr. Park on this?! He should know how much work this new position was going to involve!

Then, to make a bad situation worse, there was the little matter of his new retinue. Upon leaving the hospital, Sandoval had informed him that the escort was a permanent fixture until McKenna was caught - meaning that they were going to be with him constantly, including in the Embassy! The Embassy guards weren't going to be happy about that...

Added to that, of course, there was the fact that although he had been feeling up to a proper meal for lunch, Dr. Park had put her foot down and he'd ended up having soup - which he was rapidly coming to hate.

He walked into Da'an's office, and was halfway to his desk before he realized that Da'an was there.

"Liam," the Taelon said, standing up from his chair and walking over. "I am gratified to see that you are looking better."

For a brief second, Liam debated letting Da'an know just how angry he was about this whole medical leave thing, but after a moment's thought, he quashed the idea. Dr. Park had said that she was the one who had mentioned it to Da'an; the Taelon had probably just gone along with her. Of course, if he happened to find out otherwise...

"Thank you," he said, continuing toward his desk. "I'm certainly feeling much better than yesterday. But I thought you were up on the mothership."

"I needed to do some work from here," Da'an replied quietly, gesturing gracefully. "And... you wished to speak with me about something, I believe."

Oh, right...

"Umm..." Liam hesitated, his eyes flicking over to where Sandoval and the Volunteers were standing, talking quietly. Da'an followed the direction of his gaze, and then nodded slightly, indicating his understanding.

"Agent Sandoval, there are some things that Major Kincaid and I must discuss privately," the Taelon said.

"Of course," Sandoval replied.

Liam frowned. Sandoval had sounded calm, but there was something... he was angry.

He's been angry quite a bit lately - and for no apparent reason. What's going on?

Sandoval turned and said something quietly to the Volunteers, and then turned back to Da'an and Liam. "Two Volunteers will stay just outside; the rest will patrol the Embassy. I'll be in the office next door." With that, he walked out, followed by the Volunteers.

Looking back at Da'an, Liam was surprised to see that the Taelon apparently hadn't noticed Sandoval's anger.

"What did you wish to discuss, Liam?" Da'an asked.

Come on, Liam, you've already decided to tell him. About the shaqarava, at least, if not the scans.

Taking a deep breath, Liam leaned back against his desk. This was going to be hard, trusting Da'an again after his betrayal of the Resistance... but at the same time, it did involve his Kimera heritage, which was something that Da'an had kept secret from the very beginning, and that they'd never had any arguments about. Unlike his involvement with the Resistance...

Enough, Liam. Just tell him.

"I... Last year, after we dealt with that Jaridian probe you sent me after," Liam began hesitantly, "my shaqarava disappeared."

Da'an stared at him, the movements of his hands expressing his shock at Liam's words. "That... Liam, that is impossible," he said firmly. "Your shaqarava are a part of you; they cannot simply disappear!"

This probably wouldn't be the best time to bring up the fact that that was exactly what the Taelons had created the Commonality to do. "Well, they did," Liam replied, his tone sharp. Then he took another deep breath. "But..."

Rather than trying to explain what had happened, he carefully peeled off his right glove - trying not to jar his arm or shoulder - and showed Da'an his palm.

Da'an stared at the dark red mark on Liam's palm in surprise and shock.

"I don't know, but I think... I think something may be wrong with them," his Protector continued. His voice sounded a bit shaky, and as Da'an returned his gaze to Liam's face, he could see that the young man was scared, though he was doing a good job of hiding it. "They've been itching since Thursday, and... they're not supposed to be that dark, are they."

"I do not know, Liam," Da'an admitted reluctantly. "May I examine them?"

Liam hesitated, and Da'an blushed pale blue as he saw the uncertainty on the young hybrid's face. It was yet another sign of the damaged trust between them.

Then, abruptly, Liam pulled off his left glove, revealing a matching dark red blaze. "Here," he said, holding his hand out.

Da'an took it, and lost control of his façade as he felt the energy radiating from Liam's shaqarava. There was so much energy there that perhaps it wasn't surprising the shaqarava were so dark.

"Da'an?" Liam asked, sounding worried.

Da'an let go of his Protector's hand and re-built his façade. There is so much energy... and yet, standing here, right next to him, I cannot sense any of it. Why?

"Da'an? Something is wrong, isn't it? Da'an?"

Liam sounded scared, and Da'an hastened to reassure the young hybrid. "No, Liam, nothing appears to be wrong," he replied.

Liam relaxed in obvious relief at the reassurance. "Then why are they like this?" He gestured with his left hand. "Like I said, I don't know for sure, but I am fairly certain that they're not supposed to be this dark."

"Your shaqarava currently contain a great deal of energy, Liam," Da'an explained. "More energy than I thought possible - and that I can only sense when I touch you. I believe that if you can find some way in which to discharge this energy, they will return to normal."

"Discharge it?" Liam repeated blankly, staring down at the dark red marks of his shaqarava. "How?" And why is this happening?

Da'an's hands moved rapidly, indicating exasperation. "Perhaps you should try activating them," he replied.

Liam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Activate them. It sounded so easy, the way Da'an said it. But...

The problem was, he had only consciously used his shaqarava three times. The first time had been when he'd rejoined Da'an to the Commonality. The second time had been when he'd thought that Zo'or and Sandoval were going to make him insane - but that time had backfired, and he'd ended up nearly killing Augur. And the third time had been in Maiya's dimension, when he'd told the alternate Da'an who he was. Every other time, it had been instinctive - even when he'd healed Augur.

Remember how you did it in Maiya's dimension, he told himself. Taking another deep breath, he concentrated.

It didn't work. His shaqarava stubbornly refused to activate; and, in fact, the itching only got worse.

"It's not working," he told Da'an.

The Taelon frowned. "Are you--"

Before Da'an could finish whatever it was he was trying to say, the door opened and one of the Volunteers from the escort - Corporal Pancyk, Sandoval had introduced him as - stepped in. "Major, there's a Lieutenant O'Neal here to see you, sir."

Lieutenant O'Neal? Liam wondered, frowning, even as he hastily grabbed his gloves from the desk. Oh, right! He'd been so pre-occupied with worry about his shaqarava and the current situation with McKenna that he'd almost forgotten about the interviews he'd scheduled for today.

"Who is this Lieutenant O'Neal, Liam?" Da'an asked, while Liam pulled the gloves on.

"He's one of the Volunteers I'm interviewing about the pilot training program," Liam explained. He nodded to the Volunteer. "Please send him in, Corporal Pancyk."

"Yes, sir!" the Volunteer replied, saluting.

Da'an waved one hand as he returned to his chair. "We will continue our discussion later, Liam," he said, sitting down just as Lt. O'Neal walked in.

Liam nodded, and then turned his attention to the Volunteer. "Thank you for coming, Lieutenant," he said, and gestured to the chair in front of his desk as he sat down in his own chair. "Please, sit down. I'm afraid this may take a while."

"That's all right, sir," Lt. O'Neal replied calmly. "My squad isn't on duty until later this afternoon, so I've got the time."

"All right," Liam said. He turned on the computer and pulled up the file of the questions he needed to ask. "Now, just to explain to you what's going on, Synod Leader Zo'or has appointed me to the position of Flight Commander, effective next week." If I can convince Da'an and Sandoval to cancel this medical leave, that is. "One of the first things I want to look at is the training program for the pilots. You went through it a year and a half ago, but didn't graduate. I was hoping that I could ask you some questions about your experience."

"Certainly, sir," O'Neal said agreeably. "What is it you want to know?"

"First of all," Liam began, "how were the training sessions structured?"

Sandoval scowled at the huge - and growing - pile of files on the desk, and wondered why he'd ever thought that working out of the Embassy for a while would let him escape his paperwork. He was supposed to be on vacation right now. He wasn't supposed to be dealing with an assassin after his second-in-command, while at the same time discovering that that self-same second-in-command was actually his son!

Sighing, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. It had only been about twenty-four hours since he'd made that little discovery, and he was still trying to deal with all its implications... not to mention the questions it raised.

First of all, there was still the matter of who Liam's other parent was. That was something he probably wouldn't be able to find out unless - until - he talked to Liam; especially since Da'an had kept this whole thing a secret from him...

Sandoval pushed that thought away firmly. Getting angry with Da'an over this, while it might be personally satisfying, wouldn't gain him anything.

Secondly, there was the mystery of how, exactly, Liam had gotten involved with the Resistance. Sandoval had fought against Jonathan Doors long enough to know that inviting a hybrid into his movement was the very last thing he would have wanted to do. Although it did, perhaps, provide an explanation for why Doors didn't like Liam...

It was the third question, however, that was weighing on his mind.

Can he ever forgive me for what I've done to him? Will he ever forgive me? And how--

The sound of his global beeping broke the silence in the office, pulling him out of his brooding thoughts.

He opened the global, and frowned as Captain Jardine's face appeared. "Captain. Any progress?" he demanded.

"Not much, I'm afraid, sir," Jardine replied, shaking his head. "Lieutenant Pearce's squad has found the hotel in Phoenix that McKenna stayed in Saturday night, but he checked out yesterday morning before the festival, and didn't leave anything behind.

"I've currently got people checking with the airlines, and two squads going through the records at the Portal Authority," he added.

Sandoval sighed. "I'm not trying to malign your efforts, Captain, much less those of the elite, but I think that it's unlikely they're going to find anything. McKenna is a professional, one who's been trained by the best. He isn't going to be that easy to find."

"Yes, sir, I'm aware of that," Jardine replied calmly. "However, even the best people in the world make mistakes. And yesterday was the fourth time in five days that he's tried to kill Major Kincaid - and failed. That's got to be eating away at him - which makes it all the more likely that he'll make a mistake, overlook something. And when he does, we'll be there, waiting for him."

Sandoval nodded slowly. Jardine had a point - not even McKenna was perfect. He was bound to make a mistake sooner or later - hopefully sooner.

But they couldn't afford to count on it. Not when Liam was in danger.

He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. Everything seems to come back to Liam.

"Sir?" Jardine asked.

Sandoval shook his head, irritated with himself. Now was not the time to be woolgathering. "What about the Embassy surveillance teams?" he asked.

"The first shift is already there," Jardine replied. "I have the next four shifts already lined up - each shift a mix of elite and regular Volunteers." He paused for a moment, and then added, "Major Kincaid appears to be quite popular, even among the elite. There were a number of squads who wanted guard duty."

Sandoval nodded. "That's one of the reasons I've been considering bringing him in, Captain."

Jardine waited.

Leaning back in his chair, Sandoval studied his aide's face thoughtfully. "What has the reaction to your little announcement been?" he asked. He hadn't intended to reveal his plans for Liam to the general elite just yet, but since it had been done, he was interested to know the results. The fact that Jardine had overstepped his authority in revealing that information... well, he'd deal with that later, once this situation with McKenna was over and done with.

"The general feeling appears to be that if your investigation has a positive result, it would probably be a good thing. Especially with this new move of Zo'or's, appointing the Major as Flight Commander."

Sandoval nodded again. "Thank you, Captain," he said. "Please keep me apprised of the progress on the search for McKenna."

"Yes, sir," Jardine replied, and Sandoval closed his global.

Putting it down on his desk, he leaned forward and rested his head on his hands, his thoughts going automatically back to Liam.

Now what?

Sooner or later, he was going to have to talk to Liam about the fact that he knew. Personally, Sandoval preferred that it be sooner; but unless he came up with an idea of how he wanted to handle the talk, it was probably going to be later. Much later.

"Stop it, Ron!" he muttered out loud. Talking to Liam about their relationship was not his first priority at the moment, as much as he wished it could be. Keeping Liam alive - and safe - so that they could actually have that conversation was.

And to do that, he had to find and stop McKenna.

The elite were already looking for him, and Sandoval was confident that they'd do everything they could to find him. However, as he'd pointed out to Captain Jardine, McKenna was a fully trained professional assassin. And they couldn't afford to count on getting lucky.

Who do you use to trace a professional?

Another professional. Looks like I've got another job for you, Andrew.

Opening his global again, Sandoval dialed into the FBI communications net.

Andrew wasn't an assassin, of course; but his speciality was tracing people, whether through computers or - occasionally - in the field. In his own way, he was just as much a professional as McKenna - except that his profession didn't involve killing people.

A minute or two later, Andrew's face appeared on his screen. "Ron?" he mumbled blearily. "Whas up?"

Sandoval sighed. "Obviously not you," he commented.

"Gimme a break," Andrew returned, rubbing his eyes with one hand. "I just got out of bed ten minutes ago. I haven't even had my coffee yet." He was, however, sounding more alert by the second.

"I have two requests," Sandoval told him.

"O-kay..." Andrew replied slowly. "What are they?"

Sandoval took a deep breath. "First of all... I need you to put your investigation of Major Kincaid on hold." Yes, he's definitely more alert now...

"Wait a minute... what do you mean, put it on hold?" Andrew demanded. "You gave me the definite impression that this was very impor--"

"Andrew!" Sandoval interrupted him.

"What?"

"I... All you really need to know is that I've come across some information that has... changed the situation. There's something of more immediate importance I need you to look into at the moment."

Andrew frowned at him. "Changed the situation?" he repeated. "How?"

Sandoval rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It's not something I can explain to you right now, Andrew; it's too... sensitive. Let's just say that you were right when you told me that you thought he could be trusted."

Andrew's frown deepened. "Ron..." he began.

Sandoval held up one hand, silencing him. "For the moment, I'm afraid that you're just going to have to take my word for it."

Andrew studied him thoughtfully for a moment, and then Sandoval saw him nod. "All right. So, what is this other thing you want me to do?"

"Have you heard about the assassination attempt on Major Kincaid?" Sandoval asked.

"Assassination attempt?" Andrew repeated, blinking in surprise. Sandoval nodded, and Andrew responded by shaking his head. "No. I've been busy, remember? I mean, I heard about the attempt on that Taelon, but nothing about the Major..."

"Actually," Sandoval said, "the attempt on Wednesday was also aimed at Major Kincaid."

"Why?" Andrew asked. "And do you know who this guy is? Or is that what you want me to try finding out?"

Sandoval shook his head. "No, we know who he is. His name is Gary McKenna; he's a lieutenant colonel in the US Army Rangers," he explained. "I met him a few times during the S.I. War. He's a professional assassin. And as for why he's after Liam... The best guess I've been able to come up with, based on something he said yesterday, is that it has something to do with Liam's position as a Companion-Protector."

Andrew nodded slowly, a vaguely puzzled look on his face. "Okay... Makes a certain amount of sense, I guess, if you assume that he doesn't like Taelons... So, what do you want me to do?"

Sandoval leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. "We need to find McKenna, and we need to find him fast," he replied. "I've got most of the elite working on it - the rest of them are guarding Liam in shifts - but this sort of situation isn't really something that they're fully trained to handle. I'd appreciate it if you could see what you can do about locating him."

"Sure," Andrew replied.

"Thanks." Sandoval tapped the screen. "I'm sending you a copy of McKenna's file now; with any luck, it should be able to help you narrow down your search."

"Got it," Andrew said after a moment. "I'll get right on it, and I'll give you a call as soon as I've got something, okay?"

"Okay. And Andrew?" Sandoval added. "Thanks again."

"No problem," Andrew replied nonchalantly. "What would you do without me, Ron?" he added, grinning, and then closed the connection.

Closing his global, Sandoval tossed it back onto the desk, and then turned his attention to the files. Paperwork was hardly his favourite thing in the world, but he couldn't go out chasing McKenna himself, which meant that he had to do something else - besides brood or get angry - and paperwork was it.

Doors stood up from the table and smiled as he looked around the small conference room. Things had gone quite well.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you again, gentlemen," he declared.

"The pleasure was ours, I assure you," replied Saïd ibn Muhammad, snapping his briefcase closed. "This venture of yours should prove to be quite profitable."

"I certainly hope so," Doors said. Then he gestured to Renee. "If you don't mind, Ms. Palmer will show you out."

Sitting back down, he watched the three other men - ibn Muhammad, Henri Reynaud, and Alistair Tradden - follow Renee out the door.

Glancing at the clock in one corner of the room, he grimaced slightly. It was already four o'clock - it had taken a while to get all the niggling little details of the agreement ironed out. However, now that it was done... His grimace became a smile.

Five minutes later, Renee came back in.

"So, what did you think?" Doors asked.

Sitting down opposite him, Renee nodded slowly. "It went well," she replied. "But..."

Doors frowned. "But what?" he demanded.

"There are definitely some people who aren't going to like this."

Doors closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. "Renee, if you think I care what Liam thinks..."

"I'm not just talking about Liam," Renee countered. "You're going to polarize things again, Jonathan. It was bad enough after you started your run for the presidency, and then after the crackdown, but now..." She shrugged.

"This is necessary," Doors replied coldly. He was beginning to wonder if Renee might not be losing her edge. If so, that was yet another thing he could lay at Liam's door. "We need this, Renee. We've lost too much as it is."

Renee shook her head. "I just hope you know exactly what you're doing, Jonathan. After what happened on Friday, I'm starting to wonder if Liam's going to start pushing back... and what he's going to do when he does. Bringing Sandoval down on us... that wasn't like him."

Doors sighed again. "Renee..." he began, and then stopped. Reiterating the fact that Liam wasn't human - and therefore didn't react like a human would - wouldn't do any good. Instead, he said, "Yes, I do know what I'm doing. And I can handle Liam."

Renee looked at bit doubtful at that, but Doors ignored her expression. Instead, he returned to the original topic of discussion. "So, you agree that it went well."

"Very well," Renee said, nodding as she accepted the switch in topics. "Particularly with M. Reynaud."

"Henri and I go back a long way," Doors told her. He paused, and then added, "Do you think they'll have everything ready for inspection on schedule?"

"Most of it, at least. Certainly the important parts," Renee replied.

"Good. We'll see about arranging that next week." Then he looked at the clock again, and frowned. "We're going to have to leave that call to Dr. Greenbaum until tomorrow, I'm afraid. It's too late to be contacting them today without attracting undue attention."

Renee nodded in agreement. "In that case," she said, standing back up, "I'm going to head home and get some sleep."

"Of course. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

As soon as she had gone, Doors leaned back in his chair and studied the opposite wall thoughtfully.

"Yes... if need be, I can handle Liam."

Liam leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead as he watched Sergeant Valdez - one of the pilots who had been trained since Lili's death - leave the office.

It had been a long day so far, with four Volunteer interviews - and another one to go - and a number of less than pleasant surprises. He was feeling confused, scared, tired, and his shoulder was throbbing again.

And to make it worse, every time he so much as touched his desk, he could see odd flickers of light out of the corner of his eyes, almost like the one he'd seen just before his vision yesterday morning - the one that had warned him about the crossbow bolt. But when he tried to focus on the flickers, they would disappear; and the effort was giving him a headache.

What time is it? he wondered absently, glancing at his watch. Then he blinked in surprise. It was only six o'clock? It feels like today has lasted forever!

Before he could begin trying to work that out, the door opened again and Sandoval came in. Liam started to ask if Sandoval felt like getting some dinner, and then stopped, surprised, as his father glared at him.

"Sandoval?" he managed after a moment. "What... what's wrong?" His father looked so angry...

"Major, did I or did I not tell you that the only thing you were to be doing was paperwork?" Sandoval demanded.

Huh? "I haven't--" Liam started.

"It's a very simple question, Major," Sandoval interrupted coldly. "Did I or did I not tell you?"

"You did," Liam replied, starting to feel irritated all over again. "But--"

"And what have you been doing over the past five hours?" Sandoval continued, ignoring his protest.

"I've been talking to some of the Volunteers who've undergone pilot training," Liam returned.

Sandoval's glare became even colder, if that was possible. "Since when does conducting interviews qualify as 'paperwork', Major?" he demanded.

Liam took a deep breath and tried to refrain from making a snarky remark; he didn't particularly want Sandoval any angrier than he already was. "It isn't paperwork in the strictest sense of the word, no," he admitted, "but it's a non-strenuous activity..."

He trailed off when it became obvious that Sandoval wasn't listening to him. Instead, the Implant turned to face Da'an, who had shut off the datastream he'd been concentrating on for the past few hours.

"I've already made arrangements for Volunteer Roberts to take you back up to the mothership, Da'an," Sandoval said. "The Major and I will be leaving now."

"Wait a minute..." Liam protested. He still had one more interview scheduled today!

"Certainly, Agent Sandoval," Da'an replied calmly, ignoring him as well. "I will see you both tomorrow morning."

"Of course," Sandoval said, nodding, and then he turned back to Liam. "Major..."

Liam didn't move. "I've got another interview in fifteen min--"

"It's been cancelled."

Liam stared at his father in disbelief. "What? What do you mean, it's been cancelled?" he demanded.

"Exactly what I said," Sandoval replied curtly. "You are on medical leave, Major. The only reason you are here, rather than staying either at home or in the hospital, is because McKenna is after you."

Liam stared at him in disbelief. "Sandoval, I have got to get these interviews done!" he protested. "I'm supposed to take command of the pilots next week!"

Sandoval took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Yelling at Liam wouldn't do any good.

He'd come out of the office for a break just in time to see a Volunteer leaving Da'an's office - a pilot, one that he didn't recognize. He'd asked Lt. Hartland what was going on, and the lieutenant had told him that Liam was interviewing pilots, and that he had another interview scheduled in twenty minutes.

He had immediately demanded the name of the Volunteer in question, called her, and cancelled the appointment. Liam had been in the hospital just this morning; he was in no condition to be doing interviews. And then Hartland had told him that there had been three other interviews before this last one...

He'd walked into Da'an's office, and had been horrified at how haggard Liam looked. It was obvious that he was in pain, despite his efforts to hide it.

And then Liam had to go and give him this ridiculous statement about continuing the interviews, when it was obvious that he was in no condition to do so...

Sandoval took another deep breath, and let it out in a silent sigh. Remember, he is in pain, he told himself firmly. That's undoubtedly part of the reason for his attitude. And he's right that under normal circumstances, this is exactly what he should be doing. But these aren't normal circumstances.

I'm going to have to talk to Zo'or about this. Otherwise, Liam is going to keep pushing himself too hard.

Now, all I have to do is figure out how to convince him that it is time to leave...

"Major," he said, calling on the same patience he used in dealing with Andrew, "you were in the hospital only this morning. You're very obviously in pain. It's time to go. Assuming you feel better tomorrow," he added, "and I do mean better, Liam - it might be possible for you to continue the interviews then."

Liam looked as though he wanted to argue, but as he leaned forward, his right arm brushed against his desk, and he went pale.

"That's it," Sandoval snapped, suddenly feeling furious. "Where did you put your painkillers, Major?"

Liam swallowed. "In the drawer," he managed.

"Liam?" Da'an said, his tone concerned. Sandoval berated himself for not having noticed the Taelon approaching, even as he hurried around Liam's desk and opened the top drawer. "Are you all right?" the Taelon continued.

"Just... jarred my shoulder," Liam replied.

Sandoval shot him a sharp look as he took the bottle of pills out and emptied three into his palm. There was something about Liam's tone of voice... he was lying. Or at least, not telling the whole truth. He didn't mention it, however. Instead, he simply handed Liam the pills and slipped the bottle into his pocket. "Take them," he ordered.

Liam obediently put them into his mouth and swallowed.

"Now, we are leaving," Sandoval continued firmly. He gripped Liam's left arm gently, and helped him stand up. "We will see you tomorrow, Da'an," he added, as he steered Liam toward the door.

Da'an watched as Agent Sandoval led Liam out of the office, concerned. He was worried about Liam; there was so much happening to the young hybrid at the moment. Too much, perhaps.

He hadn't been paying attention to the information he was supposed to be dealing with over the past two hours; instead, he'd been keeping a concerned eye on Liam, watching as he grew paler and paler. He'd been just about to call Agent Sandoval when the Implant had walked in.

And then, to find out that Liam had been pushing himself because of Zo'or's decision to place him in charge of the pilots...

Da'an sat down in his chair and called up his datastream, contacting Zo'or.

"Yes?" Zo'or demanded. "What is it, Da'an?"

"I must speak to you about Major Kincaid," Da'an replied.

Zo'or's expression hardened. "I have made my decision, Da'an, and it is final. Major Kincaid will be placed in command of the pilots."

"I will not attempt to convince you otherwise," Da'an promised. He still wasn't certain that he liked the idea of Liam gaining that much control over the Volunteers, but he had already decided not to argue with Zo'or about it. "However, I thought that it would be wise to advise you of the fact that Dr. Park wishes Liam to be put on medical leave for the next two weeks. There is concern that he will attempt to do too much, and perhaps injure himself permanently."

Zo'or studied him, and Da'an let him sense the concern he felt for Liam.

"Very well," Zo'or said after a moment. "I will delay the implementation date."

"Thank you, Zo'or," Da'an returned, and then dismissed the datastream.

Standing up, he started toward the Embassy entrance, where the Volunteer would be waiting to take him back to the mothership.

Sandoval sat down at his desk and leaned back in his chair.

Although his study was very different from the rest of his apartment - the walls were done in dark green, rather than light cream, and this was where he kept his art collection - both areas relaxed him, served as a sanctuary from the rest of the world.

It was only ten-thirty, not all that late - not for an Implant - but Sandoval felt very tired; exhausted, in fact.

A large part of that was, of course, due to the shocks he'd received over the past two days. Finding out that Liam was his son...

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed.

As for Liam... well, as soon as they'd reached his apartment, Liam had gone to bed; he hadn't even been interested in eating.

Of course he wasn't interested, Sandoval thought, irritated with himself. Despite the painkillers, Liam's shoulder had obviously been hurting him a great deal. It wasn't really that much of a surprise that he had simply wanted to go to bed and go to sleep.

Liam...

Sandoval sighed again. It was time to start thinking about this, rather than just reacting - which was all he'd really been doing for the past thirty-two hours. He had a valid excuse for it, admittedly - after all, it wasn't every day that he found out that his subordinate was actually his son - but enough was enough. He couldn't afford to continue reacting; he had to start making decisions, before he made a serious mistake.

The first decision was one that he'd actually made already - he did want a relationship with his son, as a father. There had been no question about that. That particular decision had been made the moment Dr. Curzon had told him that he had a son, and finding out that his son was Liam hadn't changed that; it had just given him pause.

However, the second decision was going to be more difficult; this was the one that had been bothering him for the past day.

How was he going to talk to Liam? He didn't even know that Liam wanted this... although the fact that he had given Sandoval the pictures was a fairly good indication that he did.

Well, he'd already decided that catching McKenna was the first priority, so he didn't intend to broach the subject with Liam until after they'd dealt with McKenna.

So, how was he going to do it? It wasn't exactly a conversation that he wanted to wing by the seat of his pants...

Start off with the photos from his apartment... ask him about them, came the sudden thought.

Yes, that might do it. Sandoval nodded slowly as a plan started to form.

Then he yawned.

Well, I might as well get some sleep. I've got the beginnings of an idea... Sleep will help me focus it.

Standing up, Sandoval headed out of his study, and then hesitated. His gaze went to the door of the spare room, where Liam was. Then, unable to resist the need to make sure that his son was all right, he walked over and opened the door.

Liam was lying on his back in the middle of the bed, his eyes screwed tightly shut and his face flushed. Remembering Dr. Park's comment about Liam running a fever last night, Sandoval slipped in.

Just before he reached the bed, Liam whimpered softly, and then called out, "Va'nei, liea o'onarr!"

Starting to get worried, Sandoval placed his hand against Liam's forehead.

Liam immediately sighed and relaxed, the tension in his face easing, though he didn't wake up.

His temperature was only a degree or two above normal - nothing to be too concerned about, Sandoval knew, although he was still a bit worried. He'd check again in the morning, and if he needed to, he could always call Dr. Park.

"Good night, Liam," he said quietly, standing back up. Liam stirred, murmuring something that Sandoval couldn't quite make out, and then slipped back into a deep sleep.

Leaving Liam's room, Sandoval went straight to his own and sat down at the edge of the bed, rubbing his face with his hands.

"Va'nei, liea o'onarr..."

Leaning back against the headboard, Sandoval frowned as he stared thoughtfully up at the ceiling. The words - and they had been words, he was certain of that much - weren't from any human language that he knew of.

They also weren't Eunoia.

So... what language were they? And how did Liam know--

A voice - his own - as he descended into darkness... "You're a complicated host, Mr. Sandoval."

"What the hell?!" he said out loud, sitting bolt upright, startled by the sudden CVI-induced intrusion of memory. What did Ha'gel have to do with Liam?

Zo'or, standing on the bridge of the mothership, berating him. "And you haven't offered any explanation of how Agent Kincaid was able to defeat the replicant with an inadequate weapon," Zo'or was saying curtly. "And more importantly, how was Da'an able to miraculously rejoin the Commonality after he was cut off from it?...

"By rejoining the Commonality, Da'an has accomplished something only the Kimera could do... Ha'gel's race. The genetic predecessors of the Taelons."...

Then his own voice, making another suggestion. "There is another link between the two events. Liam Kincaid was with Da'an when the replicant attacked, and when Da'an rejoined the Commonality."

Liam, seen through the security camera installed in the Embassy to help monitor the trap for the replicant. "I'm good at games."

Da'an replying, "Not as good as you are at hiding the truth."

Liam, looking nervous and confused at the same time. "The truth?"

Da'an turning Liam's hand over. "As written in your palm."

Dr. Curzon, on his global. "The anomalies in your son's DNA look almost like Taelon genetic material."

Ha'gel... the Kimera... almost like Taelon genetic material...

"Oh, my god..." Sandoval gasped, his eyes widening in shock. Liam's not a Taelon hybrid... he's Kimera. And Da'an knows...

He lay back down, staring blankly up at the ceiling again as he tried to deal with this latest revelation. It was obvious that he wouldn't be getting very much sleep tonight.

Lt. Col. Gary McKenna looked around carefully as he got out of the cab. He had no doubt that the entire area was under surveillance, but he was confident that he wouldn't be spotted. Between the vaile and the plans he'd managed to acquire, no one would even have a clue that he'd been here until it was too late. And by that time, Kincaid would already be dead.

His lips pulled back in a snarl as he thought about Major Kincaid. The man was unbelievably lucky.

There had been other occasions when he'd failed to kill a target the first time, for some reason or another; it was inevitable. Nothing and no one was perfect. But he'd never needed more than two attempts to take out a target. Until now, that was.

Well, there was no way that Kincaid would be able to survive this.

He patted the duffle bag he was carrying. Ordinarily, he disdained methods such as this, because of the huge risk of civilian - innocent - casualties; but no one who would be there when the time came was an innocent.

"We'll see who has the last laugh now, Kincaid."

It was the noise from the room next door - the kitchen - that woke Liam up.

He opened his eyes, and stared up at the ceiling for a moment while he took stock of how he felt.

His arm was hurting quite a bit, his shoulder even more; and to top it all off, his shaqarava were still itchy - and still dark red, he observed in dismay, as he carefully sat up and pulled off his right glove to check his palm.

On the positive side of things, however, while he was still in pain, it was definitely less than it had been yesterday.

Another sound came from the kitchen - the soft 'clang' of an oven closing - and Liam's stomach grumbled in response. Thinking back, he realized that he hadn't had any dinner the night before - no wonder he was hungry!

Standing up, he glanced down at himself and grimaced. By the time they'd arrived at Sandoval's apartment last night, he'd been too tired to do anything but collapse in bed. As a result, he was still wearing yesterday's clothes.

Rifling through the duffle bag he'd dumped on the end of the bed, Liam pulled out a clean shirt and got changed, doing his best to avoid jarring his shoulder. He didn't entirely succeed, and by the time he was finished, he was pale, shaking, and resigned to the need to take another dose of painkillers.

Glancing around the room, Liam was momentarily puzzled at not seeing the bottle of pills anywhere; then he remembered - Sandoval had put it in his pocket just before they'd left the Embassy yesterday.

Liam grimaced again. The last thing he wanted to do right now was let Sandoval know that he was still in that much pain, but he didn't exactly have much of a choice. He only hoped that Sandoval would at least believe that he was feeling better today.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door of his room and slipped out, heading for the kitchen.

Sandoval was standing at the stove, his attention focused on a frying pan and holding a spatula in one hand. Liam could smell the pancakes he was cooking.

"I hope I get to have some of those," Liam said, his tone pleading.

Sandoval whirled to face him, a startled expression on his face. "Liam! I didn't expect you to be up this early."

"Early?" Liam repeated. He glanced at his watch, and felt a touch of surprise; it was only six a.m. So what is Sandoval doing up at this hour? "I just got up," he said, frowning slightly as he got a good look at his father.

Admittedly, neither he nor Sandoval had gotten much sleep since this mess had started - except for his drug-induced slumber Friday night and Sunday - but right now, his father looked more as though he hadn't gotten any sleep at all last night. His eyes were bloodshot, and Liam could see the dark circles under them.

For a moment, Liam thought about mentioning this fact; but then he re-considered. He had a sneaking feeling that mentioning it might just prove detrimental to his health. Instead, he looked toward the stove. "So, do I get any?" he asked.

Sandoval sighed. "Yes," he replied, his tone one of mild exasperation. "There's already a full batch made and keeping warm in the oven. If you go sit down," he gestured toward the table, "I'll bring them over.

"And Liam, take the painkillers," he added, his tone making it more an order than a suggestion.

Sandoval had already set out two places, with plates, cutlery, and orange juice. Sitting next to one of the glasses of juice were three tablets. Liam shot a quick glance at his father, a bit puzzled by the action, then obediently sat down and swallowed the pills.

"So, how are you feeling?" Sandoval asked, as he brought over a tray stacked high with pancakes.

"Better," Liam replied, eyeing the pancakes hungrily.

"Good," Sandoval replied. He paused for a moment, and then continued, "I spoke to Zo'or a bit earlier this morning."

"Oh?" Liam asked, slipping three of the pancakes onto his plate. "What did he want?"

"There's going to be a slight delay in your promotion to Flight Commander," Sandoval said calmly.

Liam looked up at his father, startled. "A delay?" he demanded, suddenly suspicious, fearing he knew the reason. "Why?"

Sandoval looked exasperated. "You may feel better than yesterday, Major," he said pointedly, "but you are still on medical leave. Zo'or would prefer to wait until you are capable of resuming your full duties before he gives you another responsibility.

"Therefore," he continued, "I have re-scheduled the interviews you arranged for two weeks from now."

Well, at least he bothered to re-schedule them, Liam thought sourly. Then, taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself down.

If he thought about it rationally, he knew that Dr. Park, Sandoval and Da'an were perfectly right about putting him on medical leave; but he didn't really want to admit it.

"So what am I supposed to do today, then?" he demanded, trying to keep his tone as civil as possible.

"There's always paperwork," Sandoval suggested with a slight grin.

Liam slumped in his chair. "I've done all I can," he said. "Everything that's left needs my signature, and I can't sign anything until my shoulder's better."

"In that case, you can always help me with mine," Sandoval said. "I have a huge pile on my desk, and I haven't been able to even look through most of it yet."

There was something about the way Sandoval said that - maybe his tone of voice, Liam wasn't sure - that stopped his first reaction, which was to reply with a snide remark. Instead, he forced himself to keep quiet and consider his options for a minute.

Doing paperwork was boring, yes... but having nothing to do was even worse. He was going to have to be at the Embassy anyway, and since Sandoval had cancelled the interviews he'd had planned, there was nothing else for him to do; or, at least, nothing else that would keep him occupied for a full day.

As well, Sandoval really did look as though he could use a break; and this was something that Liam could do to help his father out.

"All right," he agreed.

Sandoval nodded, and then gestured at Liam's plate. "I thought you were hungry," he remarked. "Those pancakes are going to go cold if you don't eat them soon."

Liam grinned, suddenly in a much better mood, and then returned his attention to his breakfast. There was no way that he was going to waste good pancakes - not after yesterday!

It was going on for 7:30 when they arrived at the Embassy.

Liam shifted uneasily as he and Sandoval waited for Lt. Cress' squad to form up around them for the walk from the car to the Embassy. He'd found himself becoming more and more nervous the closer they got to the Embassy, a feeling that was only exacerbated by the presence of the Volunteer escort. And to make matters even worse, the flickers of light that he'd been seeing out of the corner of his eye yesterday were back, and starting to give him another headache.

As they entered the Embassy, the two Volunteers on guard in the foyer saluted, and Liam stopped to speak to them.

"Everything quiet?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Sergeant Ramsey replied, nodding. "According to the surveillance teams, there's been no sign of McKenna anywhere around here all night."

Sandoval frowned, looking displeased at Ramsey's news and relaxed tone of voice. "That doesn't necessarily mean that he's not in the area," he snapped. "We've seen evidence of how easily he can blend into a crowd. All of you," he glared at both the Embassy guards and Liam's escort, as well as Liam, "make sure you stay alert."

Even taking into consideration Sandoval's warning, Liam let himself relax a bit. It wasn't necessarily guaranteed to stay that way, but for the moment it did appear that he was safe.

"Still, so far so good," he said to Ramsey. "That's promising, isn't it?"

His escort relaxed a bit as well. "Yes, sir," Lt. Cress said, nodding to Sgt. Ramsey.

Liam was pleased to see that there didn't seem to be any resentment on Ramsey's part over the fact that Sandoval had assigned his own people to guard Liam even while in the Embassy. He'd been worrying about that yesterday and this morning, when he hadn't been distracted by other things. The Embassy guards could quite easily have taken it as implying that Sandoval didn't believe that they were capable of dealing with McKenna. But if Ramsey didn't feel that way, then the other guards would follow his lead.

"Agent Sandoval and I will be in Da'an's office if you need us," Liam added to Ramsey, as Lt. Cress motioned for three of her people to start patrolling the grounds of the Embassy. She and Sergeant Chen stayed.

"Yes, sir," Ramsey said.

"Liam, I'll just grab some of the files from the office I've been using, and then I'll join you," Sandoval said, as they started toward Da'an's office.

"Okay," Liam said slowly. As Sandoval turned and headed over to the door of his office, Liam stared after him for a moment, confused. Why is he suddenly calling me 'Liam' constantly? he wondered, as he started walking again. As late as Saturday, he'd counted himself lucky if his father called him by name once in a day. So far this morning, Sandoval had already used his name three times!

Not that Liam objected - in fact, he rather liked the implication, that they were becoming friends - but it was... strange. And to make it stranger, Liam wasn't sure if Sandoval even realized that he was doing it.

As he started into Da'an's office, he caught sight of another flicker, brighter than the others - even brighter than Sunday's. Trying to focus on it, Liam didn't realize that he had stopped right inside the entrance.

The effort caused his head to begin pounding, making the minor headache he'd developed in the car even worse, and Liam was just about to give up when Sandoval appeared in front of him, a concerned expression on the Implant's face.

"Liam, is something wrong?" his father demanded.

"No..." Liam began, and then froze as the scene in front of him flickered out, to be replaced by a vision.

There was a bright flash of light, and Liam's desk exploded, engulfing the entire room - including the doorway where he and Sandoval were standing - in flames. The explosion was so powerful that it even destabilized the virtual glass windows that looked out on the city of Washington, and burning debris went flying everywhere.

"Liam?" Sandoval repeated, sounding worried. Liam blinked, pulling away from the vision and focusing on his father, and the concerned hand on his arm that was grounding him.

There wasn't time to do anything but react. Grabbing Sandoval's arm, Liam shoved him toward the door, yelling, "Run!"

"Liam, what--" Sandoval began, and then Liam felt everything slow down. Turning back, he stared in shock and terror as his desk exploded, just like in the vision. The ball of flame that had been his desk was expanding right towards where he and Sandoval were standing. There was no way that they would be able to get out of the way in time.

NO!

Liam wasn't certain when - or how - he'd raised his hands, but suddenly they were there, his palms - and his shaqarava - facing the explosion.

I can't - I WON'T - lose him, too!

Without thinking about what he was doing - there was no time - Liam focused his terror of losing Sandoval, his need to protect his father, his anger at McKenna, and all the confusion he'd felt over the past week, and pushed.

His shaqarava felt as though they were being pierced by a burning lance, but Liam ignored the pain, determined to make this work. He had to. There was no other way for he and Sandoval to survive.

The burning pain increased, and then, abruptly - almost as though a floodgate had been loosed - he felt energy begin draining from him and flowing out through his shaqarava. A brilliant white light burst from his palms and collided with the ever-expanding ball of flame less than a foot from his face. The force of the impact flung him backward, and Liam retained just enough awareness to realize that someone - Sandoval? - had caught him before he blacked out.

When he'd arrived at Da'an's office, Sandoval had begun to get concerned; Liam had been just standing there, staring into space, an abstracted look on his face. Sandoval had handed the files in his hands to Lt. Cress and walked in. He'd asked if anything was wrong, and Liam had started to say that there wasn't when his face had gone a ghostly white. Then he'd shoved Sandoval toward the door, shouting for him to run.

Sandoval stopped in the doorway and turned back to demand an explanation; and found himself staring in shock as Liam's desk exploded, sending flames and burning debris everywhere.

He was about to throw himself out the door when he realized that Liam was just standing there. The flames from the explosion would be reaching them at any moment. He reached out a hand, with the intention of grabbing Liam and pulling him away, and then froze as a brilliant white light burst from Liam's palms - His shaqarava?! - and hit the flames.

Sandoval could only stare in mingled awe and shock as the energy from Liam's shaqarava forced the flames back.

Then, abruptly, the energy vanished, and Liam staggered backwards, propelled by the force of the impact. That broke Sandoval's paralysis, and he took a step forward just in time to catch his son as Liam collapsed.

The sudden addition of Liam's weight sent him staggering back into the corridor, and then Lt. Cress and Sgt. Chen were there, taking Liam's unconscious form from him and getting both of them a bit farther down the corridor, away from the entrance to the destroyed office.

Sandoval sank down to sit on the floor next to where the Volunteers laid Liam down. He felt dazed; he'd known since he'd figured out the truth on Sunday that Liam probably had shaqarava, but this was the first proof of it that he'd seen.

The first proof that you recognized as such, came the thought, but before he could pursue it, his global beeped.

It took him a moment to remember that he'd put it in his pocket after speaking to Zo'or this morning, and then he pulled it out and opened it.

The look of relief on Captain Jardine's face would have been rather amusing under other circumstances. "Sir, you're all right!" he exclaimed. "The mothership's sensors just picked up an explosion in the Washington Embassy, and we were worried--"

"Yes, Captain, I'm fine," Sandoval interrupted his aide, grimacing as he stood up and waved away Lt. Cress' silent offer of support. "I believe there may have been a bomb planted in Major Kincaid's desk. I want a forensics team down here..." He broke off as he heard a soft moan, and glanced over in time to see Liam open his eyes and look dazedly up at the ceiling. "I'll call you back in a few minutes, Captain," he said quickly, and closed his global before focusing on his son.

"Are you all right?" he asked, leaning down to help Liam sit up. Then he frowned as he noticed a nasty gash on Liam's forehead, just above his left eyebrow, which was bleeding freely. He must have been hit by a piece of debris.

Liam blinked up at him, looking a bit confused. "Sandoval? What happened?" he mumbled.

"There was an explosion in Da'an's office - probably a bomb," Sandoval replied. Liam's eyes widened, and Sandoval could almost see the memory returning. "How do you feel?"

Liam hesitated. Sandoval glared at him, not wanting to hear a lie, and Liam sighed. "My head hurts," he admitted after a moment.

"Not surprising - you've got a nasty cut on your forehead," Sandoval told him. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a handkerchief and gave it to Liam to press against the cut. "Here, this should help stop the bleeding." If this keeps up much longer - which I sincerely hope that it doesn't - I'm going to have to start buying handkerchiefs by the gross, he reflected, and then irritably dismissed the thought as irrelevant. Returning his attention to Liam, he added, "What about your arm and shoulder? How are they?"

Liam hesitated again, his expression becoming wary. "No worse than they were this morning," he answered carefully. "Why?"

This was not the time to discuss what he'd seen; not with Lt. Cress and Sgt. Chen standing close enough to hear anything that was said, and other Volunteers approaching - Sandoval could hear the sound of running footsteps from nearby. The elite were trustworthy, but there were still some things that they didn't need to know. Besides, he wanted his first real discussion with his son to take place in private. "The force of the explosion shoved you backward; I was afraid that it had done additional damage," he temporized. "You haven't been having that much luck with your shoulder lately."

"N-no, I'm fine," Liam managed, the wariness on his face giving way to a combination of confusion and fatigue.

"Good. Can you stand?" Sandoval added, as a group of Volunteers - the rest of Lt. Cress' squad, accompanied by some of the Embassy guards - came around the corner. Expressions of relief crossed their faces when they saw both Liam and Sandoval.

Liam nodded, and stood up slowly, carefully keeping his left hand on the wall to help support him.

Sandoval stepped away from Liam for a moment and peered around the entrance into Da'an's office.

The flames were dying down, and the room was an absolute mess. Liam's desk had been completely destroyed by the explosion; Da'an's chair looked to have been severely damaged, as did the ID portal, and the virtual glass windows were... gone.

"The media's going to have a field day with this one, sir," Corporal Payton, one of Lt. Cress' people, said. "I think most of downtown Washington saw it. I was outside, on the other side of the Embassy, and I couldn't have missed it if I'd been blind."

That was not good news.

On the other hand... Sandoval's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as his gaze went to Liam.

Yesterday, Jardine had pointed out that McKenna had failed in every attempt he'd made on Liam's life. The Captain had suggested that if they were lucky, those unusual failures - and they were unusual for McKenna - could end up making him careless.

Well, so far Sandoval hadn't seen any sign of carelessness... but he had the definite feeling that McKenna was rattled. Under ordinary circumstances, the assassin would have never resorted to using a bomb. It was too indiscriminate.

And now Liam had survived another attempt... the fifth one in a week. Bringing the media in - publicizing McKenna's failures - might just be the answer. It would definitely make him angry - and angry people, as Sandoval knew well, made mistakes.

He'd have to check the strategy with Zo'or, of course... but he suspected that the Taelon would agree to it.

First, though... Walking back to Liam, Sandoval motioned for Lt. Cress and Sgt. Ramsey, who had come with the other Volunteers, to join them. "Lieutenant, Sergeant," he ordered, "take Major Kincaid to my office. Major," he continued, turning to Liam, "you're to stay there until I come and get you. Then we'll be going up to the mothership - and you will be staying there until McKenna is caught."

He half-expected Liam to argue, and was a bit surprised when his son simply nodded and followed Sgt. Ramsey without protest.

Turning back to the rest of the Volunteers, he gestured to the entrance to Da'an's office. "Corporal Payton, I want you to stand guard here until the forensics team gets here."

"Yes, sir," the Volunteer replied, saluting.

"Sergeant Chen," Sandoval continued, "retrieve all of the surveillance records, and all Embassy security records from the past twenty-four hours. I want to see them as soon as you've got them."

"Yes, sir," Chen said, echoing the corporal, and started down the corridor toward the Embassy's main security station.

Then Sandoval turned to the others. "I want this Embassy searched from top to bottom," he ordered. "I want to know exactly how whoever planted this bomb - presumably McKenna - got in here; and if there were any more explosives planted, I want them found."

The Volunteers saluted, and then immediately hurried to carry out their assignments.

Opening his global, Sandoval contacted Captain Jardine.

"Sir, Zo'or is demanding a status report," Jardine said immediately.

"Inform him that both Major Kincaid and I are safe and relatively unharmed," Sandoval instructed. "Have you got the forensics team ready?"

"Of course, sir," Jardine replied. "And yes; they're already on the way to the Embassy."

"Good," Sandoval continued. "After you report to Zo'or, find Corporal Roberts and send him down to pick us up - I want the Major on the mothership."

Jardine nodded.

"And come down with him; I want you to supervise the forensics examination."

"Yes, sir," Jardine replied calmly.

Sandoval nodded in satisfaction and closed the connection. Then, taking another deep breath, he started toward his office - and Liam.

Liam sat down in the chair facing the desk and closed his eyes, relieved that both Cress and Ramsey had agreed to stay outside. Right now, he needed to be alone.

He felt... well, he wasn't entirely certain how he felt. Physically, his head was hurting a bit, and his shoulder and arm were throbbing; but it wasn't the physical that concerned him at the moment.

Opening his eyes again, he looked down at his hands, carefully shifting his arm in the sling so that his right palm faced upwards.

His gloves - the gift from Lili - had been destroyed by the blast from his shaqarava; there might be a few bits of fabric left on the floor of Da'an's office, if any had survived the flames, but the gloves themselves were gone.

So was the dark red colour of his shaqarava. It looked as though Da'an had been right about activating them being the answer to whatever the problem had been; they had stopped itching, and were back to the usual reddish-tinged marks that indicated quiescent shaqarava.

And that was the new problem.

He wasn't upset about having saved his father's life; if given the choice, he'd have done it again in a heartbeat. He'd done it before, when Professor Creighton had dropped that little surprise on them...

But the question was, how much had Sandoval seen?

Nothing Sandoval had said had suggested that he'd seen Liam's shaqarava - at least, not directly - but Liam didn't know how his father could have missed what had happened. That blast had been enormous!

What did Da'an say? Something about my shaqarava containing more energy than he had realized was possible?

If so, that might explain the force of the blast, as well as the strange sensation Liam had experienced, of energy draining out of him... which might, in turn, explain why he was suddenly feeling so tired.

He hesitated for a moment, glancing towards the door, and was relieved to see that it was closed. If what he was about to do did produce any results, he didn't want anyone to see.

Taking a deep breath, Liam focused his attention on his shaqarava, willing them to activate.

He felt only the faintest touch of surprise when they immediately began to glow. Admittedly, the glow wasn't very strong - but then, he was tired, after all.

Liam just sat there and studied his glowing shaqarava for a moment or two, wondering what this would mean for him. Then, willing them to stop, he watched as the glow disappeared.

Whatever had happened - and he still wasn't sure what that was - it appeared that he could now consciously control his shaqarava, although he couldn't be absolutely certain of that without doing more tests. Not exactly something he wanted to do right now.

Leaning back in the chair, Liam closed his eyes again. What he really wanted to do at the moment was to just go to sleep, but he knew that wouldn't be a good idea. Especially if Sandoval had seen the shaqarava blast. Although Liam had no idea why he'd pretend otherwise if he had...

"Liam!"

Liam jerked in surprise, opening his eyes to meet Sandoval's concerned gaze. Had he fallen asleep?

"Corporal Roberts is here," Sandoval said.

Right. To take them up to the mothership.

Liam started to stand up, and then fell back as dizziness assailed him. Maybe testing his shaqarava hadn't been that wise a thing to do after all...

Before he could say anything, Sandoval gripped his left arm and helped him up. "Are you all right?"

Liam blinked, trying to focus. "Yeah... just drained," he replied before he thought about what he was saying. Then, as his mind caught up with him, he hoped that his father would take that to mean that it was the commotion this morning that had drained him, as opposed to what he'd done about it.

Sandoval nodded slowly. "When we get up to the mothership, we'll get something to eat - that should help. And Liam," he added, letting go of Liam's arm and heading for the door, "after we've dealt with McKenna, we need to talk."

Liam stared after his father for a moment, apprehension running through him. What did he want to discuss?

Did he see?

Swallowing nervously, he took a deep breath and followed Sandoval out. At the moment, he really had no choice except to wait and see what happened.

Doors scowled at the image that formed on the screen. Having to piggyback their signal onto a myriad of others in order to avoid detection tended to result in a great deal of signal interference. As a result, the picture was staticky and the audio wasn't the best.

"Dr. Greenbaum," he said evenly.

Dr. Sylvia Greenbaum looked surprised. "Mr. Doors! What can I do for you?"

"I have one very simple question that I want answered," he replied coolly. "Why was Ms. Palmer not shown the emergency portal during her tour of the facility?"

Dr. Greenbaum blinked - or, at least, that was the impression Doors got. He disliked not being able to clearly see the faces of the people he was speaking to. "Emergency portal?" she repeated. "What emergency portal?"

Doors' expression darkened. "The emergency portal in your facility," he said, his tone going cold. "The one installed almost three years ago, at my direct orders. The outgoing only portal."

Dr. Greenbaum shook her head. "There was never a portal here, sir," she replied, looking confused. "Certainly not as long as I've been here."

Jonathan Doors tended to be a very suspicious man - he'd needed to be to survive, first in the cutthroat field of international business, and then as the leader of the Liberation. However, he found himself believing that Dr. Greenbaum was telling the truth - as she knew it, at least.

"You're certain," he said, frowning.

"Yes, Mr. Doors. We've never received a portal, emergency or otherwise," Dr. Greenbaum replied somberly.

"I'll look into this; there is supposed to be an emergency portal at each facility. I'll have one sent up by the next courier, along with the regulations governing its use," Doors declared.

"We'll be waiting, sir," Dr. Greenbaum replied.

Doors nodded to her, and then cut the signal.

Standing up, he walked into the outer office, where his assistant was working on the presentation for the latest Taelon co-venture.

"Jerry, please inform Ms. Palmer that I need to see her as soon as she's available," he said.

"Yes, sir," Jerry replied, and Doors returned to his inner office.

This was not good. At all.

Augur was just about to start eating breakfast when Holo-Lorna appeared. "Augur, there's something you should see," the hologram said.

Augur sighed. First Liam, now Holo-Lorna... this interrupting his meals bit was beginning to get on his nerves. "What is it?"

The screen came on, showing what looked to be a news report.

"...explosion at the Taelon Washington Embassy," the reporter standing in front of the camera was saying. Augur could see the Embassy in the background, and what looked like... smoke?... billowing out of it. "This is the fourth attack on Taelons and Taelon personnel in the past week."

The view changed to the front of the Embassy, where a shuttle was parked on the lawn, and Augur watched as Liam and Sandoval, surrounded by a group of Volunteers, exited the Embassy and hurried to the shuttle.

The reporter reappeared on the screen. "Neither Agent Sandoval, Zo'or's attaché, nor Major Kincaid, Da'an's Protector, both of whom were in the Embassy at the time of the explosion, had any comments for the press.

"To re-cap; over the past week, there have been four attacks on Taelons or Taelon personnel. Last Wednesday, Synod Leader Zo'or was targeted at the dedication of a new children's hospital in Seattle. Major Kincaid was injured saving him. On Thursday, Zo'or was attacked again at the Taelon Egyptian Embassy, after a meeting with Si'al, the Egyptian Companion, and the African Premier. Sunday, Major Kincaid was attacked at a Native American festival in Arizona. And just this morning, there was an explosion in the Taelon Washington Embassy."

"Turn it off," Augur ordered. "And call Liam."

Holo-Lorna nodded, and the screen shut off. A moment later, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Augur, but Major Kincaid isn't accepting any calls at the moment."

Augur frowned. "Then call Dr. Park."

Dr. Park appeared on the screen almost immediately. "Augur," she greeted him.

"Have you seen the news?" Augur demanded.

Dr. Park nodded. "Yes," she replied. "No one's called me, though, so I suspect that Liam is all right."

"Well, they did have some footage of him getting into a shuttle with Sandoval and a group of Volunteers," Augur said, "so you're probably right. But I've tried calling him, and I can't reach him. All I get is the message that he's not accepting any calls at the moment."

"If he was getting into a shuttle, that means he's most likely up on the mothership at the moment," Dr. Park pointed out. "And considering the way Sandoval's been protecting him, I wouldn't be surprised if he's got Volunteers with him constantly right now. I'm sure he'll call when he has the chance."

Augur sighed. "I'm just worried," he admitted.

"So am I, Augur, so am I," Dr. Park responded. "But Liam is able to look after himself - and as much as I dislike Sandoval, the man's very good at his job, and very determined to keep Liam safe. This assassin's failed five times so far; I doubt that he'll get a sixth chance."

Augur glanced away, not wanting Dr. Park to see his expression. Yes, he was worried about McKenna... after all, the man was a professional assassin, and seemed to be very determined to kill Liam. But that wasn't his greatest concern.

He'd done some digging on Andrew Patterson last night, and had discovered that apparently Patterson and Sandoval had been good friends ever since they'd both joined the FBI. Which meant that there could be very little doubt that whatever Patterson had found out about both Liam and Dark Knight had been relayed directly to Sandoval. And with what Liam had been doing, giving Sandoval all those hints to the truth... Well, it wouldn't take a genius to put two and two together and eventually get four.

And what did Dr. Park mean about Sandoval being determined to keep Liam safe?

"Listen, Augur, I have to go... I've got patients I need to see to," Dr. Park said, interrupting his contemplations. "If Liam calls me, I'll let him know that you want to talk to him, okay?"

Augur nodded. "Thanks," he replied.

The screen went blank, and Augur leaned back in his chair and started eating his breakfast. He wasn't paying any attention to the taste, however; most of his attention was focused on how to handle the situation he found himself in now.

"Lorna," he said after a moment's thought, "check that monitor we have on Patterson and see what he's been up to over the past day or so. And leave a message on Liam's global that I need to talk to him as soon as possible."

"Certainly, Augur," Holo-Lorna replied, and got to work.

Zo'or dismissed the datastream and turned around as Agent Sandoval and Major Kincaid stepped onto the bridge, followed by two Volunteers who immediately took up a protective stance just behind Kincaid.

Kincaid looked much worse than he had the last time Zo'or had seen the human, three days ago, when he and Agent Sandoval had been explaining their plan to entrap this assassin. There was a cut on his forehead, and he appeared to be tired and in a certain amount of pain.

Da'an and Agent Sandoval had obviously both been quite correct to insist upon a delay in the implementation of Kincaid's promotion to Flight Commander.

"Sit down, Major," he instructed, gesturing to an unoccupied console.

The human obediently sat, an expression of gratitude momentarily crossing his face.

"Agent Sandoval, your report," Zo'or ordered, as Da'an walked over to stand next to Kincaid.

"I have a team of forensics specialists going over the site of the explosion, supervised by Captain Jardine," the Implant said. "As yet, the only thing they have determined is that the explosion was definitely caused by a device planted in Major Kincaid's desk. The device is a very powerful one; the explosion destroyed most of the room, as well as destabilizing the virtual glass. Had the Major and I been any farther in, we would have undoubtedly been killed instantly."

Out of the corner of his eye, Zo'or saw Kincaid shiver, and he turned slightly to watch as Da'an placed one hand on the human's uninjured shoulder and spoke quietly to him. Kincaid nodded in response.

"Zo'or," Agent Sandoval said, and Zo'or redirected his attention to the Implant.

"Is there any further information on how the assassin was able to accomplish this, Agent Sandoval?" he demanded. "Or any information concerning his current location?"

The Implant shook his head. "Not right now, no, Zo'or. I have my people going over the records from both the surveillance teams and the Embassy security files, but there is no guarantee that we will be able to discover anything about McKenna's present whereabouts from them.

"Also," Agent Sandoval added, his eyes flicking over to Kincaid for a moment, "I've taken the precaution of making arrangements for Major Kincaid to remain on board the mothership until McKenna has been captured."

Zo'or nodded. "Very well." He studied the Implant for a moment. "There is one other thing, Agent Sandoval," he added. Calling up the datastream again, he ordered it to replay the broadcast he had been watching just before the humans had entered.

A reporter appeared. "To re-cap; over the past week, there have been four attacks on Taelons or Taelon personnel. Last Wednesday, Synod Leader Zo'or was targeted at the dedication of a new children's hospital in Seattle. Major Kincaid was injured saving him. On Thursday, Zo'or was attacked again at the Taelon Egyptian Embassy, after a meeting with Si'al, the Egyptian Companion, and the African Premier. Sunday, Major Kincaid was attacked at a Native American festival in Arizona. And just this morning, there was an explosion in the Taelon Washington Embassy."

Zo'or dismissed the datastream again. "How did the media discover what occurred in Africa, Agent Sandoval?" he demanded. "Two days ago, they were unaware of it."

Agent Sandoval scowled. "I don't know, Zo'or... but I will find out. It is quite possible that there were witnesses to the attack in Africa."

Zo'or nodded again. "Concentrate on your search for McKenna," he ordered. "He is the first priority. You will co-ordinate the search from the Washington Embassy."

The Implant blinked, and glanced back at Major Kincaid for a moment before returning his attention to Zo'or. "Of course, Zo'or," he replied obediently.

Zo'or felt satisfied. Kincaid would be safe enough here, and it would provide him with the opportunity to discuss certain matters with the Major without Agent Sandoval present. "Once you have McKenna, you will look into this breach of security. That will be all, Agent Sandoval," he added calmly.

The Implant nodded, and Zo'or turned his chair away in dismissal.

Da'an watched as Agent Sandoval approached them. He was concerned; Liam had shown him his shaqarava, which had returned to their normal state, and quietly whispered an explanation of what had happened. The question was, what - if anything - had Agent Sandoval seen? And if he had seen, what did he intend to do about it?

Stopping next to them, Sandoval gave Da'an a tight nod and then directed his attention to Liam. "Stop by the commissary and get something to eat, and then there's some paperwork in my office that you can work on," he said.

"All right. I am a bit hungry," Liam admitted quietly, not arguing. He appeared to be tired - which, considering the amount of energy he must have channeled through his shaqarava, was not surprising.

Turning to the Volunteers that had accompanied Liam onto the bridge, Sandoval added, "Lieutenant Hartland will relieve you at one o'clock."

That seemed to catch Liam's attention. "If I'm on the mothership--" he began.

"Humour me, Liam," Sandoval said firmly.

'Liam'? Da'an thought, puzzled. It was most unlike Agent Sandoval to be so informal.

"We still don't know how McKenna found out about Zo'or's schedule change Thursday morning," Sandoval continued.

Liam nodded slowly. "All right," he replied after a moment.

"I'll let you know as soon as we have something," Sandoval added, before leaving the bridge.

Liam leaned back in the seat and sighed, closing his eyes. "I wish this was over," he murmured.

"As do I," Da'an replied, his voice equally quiet. He paused, and then added, "You mentioned that you were hungry."

"Right." Liam opened his eyes and carefully stood up. Glancing around the bridge for a moment, he sighed again. "And I guess I'll be in Sandoval's office when I finish eating."

"Very well," Da'an replied.

He watched his Protector walk out, followed by the Volunteers, and then walked over to Zo'or's command chair.

"You were right, Da'an," Zo'or said coolly, turning the chair around to look at him. "Major Kincaid does indeed require rest before taking up his new responsibilities."

"I am glad that we agree on this," Da'an replied. He hesitated a moment, not certain he wished to broach this next topic with Zo'or, but the memory of Agent Sandoval's slightly haggard expression decided him. "What of Agent Sandoval? He did not have the chance to have the vacation we arranged for him. I believe he may require a rest almost as much as Major Kincaid."

Zo'or met his eyes calmly. "I will take that under consideration, Da'an - once this human assassin has been found and dealt with," he replied, and then turned away.

Da'an kept his eyes on Zo'or for another moment or two, and then left the bridge to return to his own duties.

Sandoval scowled darkly at the screen.

He, Captain Jardine, Sergeant Chen and Sergeant Ramsey were standing in the Embassy's main security station. As soon as he'd reached the Embassy, Jardine had called him in here with the news that they had discovered how - and when - McKenna had gotten in.

Somehow, the assassin had managed to obtain a copy of the plans that showed the connection between the underground tunnels and the Embassy, and had entered via that route at 2a.m. this morning.

They still weren't certain how McKenna had managed to evade all the security cameras save the one at the entrance from the tunnels, not to mention the roaming patrols, but right now Sandoval didn't care about that. They could always question McKenna about the methods he'd employed once he'd been caught.

The other thing that had been discovered while he'd been on the mothership was the reason that the bomb had not been discovered in the two randomly timed security sweeps that had taken place between 2:00 and 7:30, when he and Liam had arrived. McKenna had apparently wrapped the bomb in a swathe of vaile; a few burnt scraps had been recovered from the ruins of Da'an's office by the forensics team. And why no one had thought to adapt the Embassy's internal security sensors to detect the vaile...

Turning away from the screen, Sandoval looked at Jardine. "Sometime between late Sunday morning and two a.m., McKenna had to get here from Phoenix. I want you to check all records - Portal Authority, airlines, busses - for any departures during that period, and track them all. Take as many teams as you need.

"In addition, McKenna has to have gotten the components for the bomb somewhere, and it is more than likely that that was also done within the past two days. This had to be a spur of the moment plan; bombs aren't his style at all. As soon as the forensics team determines what form of explosive and detonator were used, I want at least two or three teams tracking down where he might have obtained them. Try military and CIA-authorized sources first."

He paused, and met Jardine's eyes. "You are authorized to do whatever is required to find McKenna and bring him in - preferably alive, but that is not a requirement. Whatever is necessary, Captain. I want this bastard."

Jardine nodded solemnly. "We all do, sir," he said. His voice was calm, but there was a glint of steely determination in his eyes.

"Good," Sandoval declared. "I'll be in my office here if you need me. I have a few things to follow up on."

Jardine nodded again, and Sandoval strode out.

He would much rather be on the mothership with Liam - talking to Liam; but he couldn't exactly have disobeyed Zo'or's order, in spite of the fact that he could do just as much, if not more, on the mothership rather than in the Embassy.

Entering the office, Sandoval sat down at his desk with a sigh and opened his global. Time to start calling in some favours.

Liam shifted uncomfortably in Sandoval's chair and glared at the mountain of paperwork on the desk in front of him. Had his father brought up everything from the Embassy as well as what was already here?

He was feeling somewhat better now, since he'd eaten a huge meal in the commissary. Still tired, yes, but not nearly as drained as he'd felt earlier. The food had definitely helped.

Liam had just lifted the first file from the stack - something about security arrangements for another interview Zo'or was giving; hadn't he had a bad enough experience at the last one? - when the door opened and Lt. Cress poked her head in. "Major, Zo'or wants to see you on the bridge," the Volunteer said.

Remembering the events of this morning, Liam felt a frisson of fear go through him. Had Zo'or found out somehow? Had Sandoval told him? "Did he say why?" Liam asked out loud, doing his best to imitate his father's impassive expression.

"No, sir," Lt. Cress replied, shaking her head. "But he does want to see you immediately."

"Of course he wants to see me 'immediately'," Liam muttered under his breath. "What else is new?" He pushed the chair away from the desk and stood up awkwardly. His shoulder was throbbing again, and unfortunately, Sandoval still had his painkillers. This was not going to be a fun afternoon - even if Zo'or's reason for seeing him was completely unrelated to what had happened this morning.

It only took a few minutes to reach the bridge from Sandoval's office, which was probably a very good thing, since Liam was growing more and more apprehensive by the moment. What could Zo'or want him for?

As he stepped onto the bridge, Zo'or turned his command chair around to face him.

"Major Kincaid," Zo'or greeted him. "There are some matters we need to discuss."

So, is this good or bad? Liam wondered. He couldn't tell anything from Zo'or's body language. "About what?" he asked out loud, hoping desperately that Zo'or would not say 'shaqarava'.

Zo'or stood up. "Your advancement to the position of Flight Commander," he replied.

Liam breathed a silent sigh of relief as he followed Zo'or over to the virtual glass windows that looked out towards Earth. So the Synod Leader didn't know. Of course, that still left open the question of whether or not Sandoval knew...

"I realize that you will be on medical leave for the next two weeks, Major, but there are certain things I wish you to be aware of before you take up the duties of your new position," Zo'or continued.

Liam glanced over his shoulder to see that Lt. Cress and Corporal Payton were standing at the entrance to the bridge, and the few Volunteers on duty were all off to one side. It appeared that Zo'or, for whatever reason, wished to speak to him privately. Which was... rather unusual.

He returned his attention to Zo'or.

"First," Zo'or said, turning to face him, "you must understand that in matters concerning your position as Flight Commander, you will not be reporting to Agent Sandoval; you will be reporting directly to me."

Oh, wonderful, was Liam's first thought. Reporting to Sandoval could be bad enough, but reporting directly to Zo'or... about anything...

Then something else occurred to him. "But I thought that Agent Sandoval was in charge of all Volunteers," he said.

"The pilots will be removed from Agent Sandoval's command," Zo'or replied calmly. "He has neither the training nor the knowledge to use them most effectively; you do."

Liam frowned slightly as he thought about that. It really didn't make that much sense for him to be reporting to Zo'or about this one thing, when he reported to Sandoval about everything else...

Then, abruptly, he realized what was going on. The only explanation he could come up with for Zo'or to do something like this would be to diminish Sandoval's power base. Liam had never bothered to hide the fact that he didn't care for Zo'or, and he was fully aware that the feeling was mutual. So the only reason Zo'or would have Liam report directly to him would be to eliminate Sandoval as the middleman. Which also served to explain why Zo'or had sent Sandoval back down to the Embassy to supervise the search for McKenna when he probably could have been more effective up here.

What surprised Liam the most about this wasn't the suggestion of mistrust between Zo'or and Sandoval - he'd been fully aware of the fact that Zo'or hadn't really trusted his father for some time, and this was simply more proof of that fact. No, the surprise was the idea that Zo'or felt that he was trustworthy enough for this! Since when had Zo'or trusted him at all?

Suddenly realizing that Zo'or was looking at him, obviously waiting for a response, Liam nodded slowly. "I understand," he said, letting his expression convey just how much he understood.

Zo'or looked satisfied. "Excellent, Major," he declared. He looked thoughtfully out at the Earth for a moment, and then turned back to Liam. "The second item of concern is the matter of the pilot training program. I believe that Agent Sandoval has informed you of the failure rate?"

"Yes, he has," Liam answered. "I've already begun looking into it."

Zo'or nodded. "Currently, between three and five percent of the Volunteers are pilots, Major. That number is much too low. If Taelons and humans are to stand any chance of defeating the Jaridians, we must have more pilots. Once you have discovered the cause of the failure rate and corrected it, your next task will be to begin a... 'recruitment campaign', I believe, is the human term. We require a minimum of ten percent of all Volunteers to be pilots; preferably close to twenty percent."

Liam could only stare at Zo'or in shock. That was... well, suffice it to say that Renee would probably be doing backflips in delight at the authority this would give him - and at the opportunity to insert some of the Resistance's operatives into the Volunteers. Ten to twenty percent of all Volunteers?! "I... see," he managed after a moment.

Once again, Zo'or appeared satisfied. "We will discuss this in greater detail after you have taken up your duties, Major," he said, turning away from the windows and walking back toward his chair. "That will be all."

"Of course, Zo'or," Liam answered automatically, falling back on his father's standard response. He walked slowly off the bridge, for once barely noticing as his Volunteer bodyguard fell into step behind him. His mind was spinning; he would have never in a million years suspected that anything like this was possible. Zo'or had never liked him, never trusted him before... so why now?

Right now, occupying himself with paperwork sounded like a very good idea. Too much had happened, too fast. Doing the paperwork would distract him - for a few hours, at least. That was, Liam decided after a moment's thought, exactly what he needed.

"And who knows?" he mumbled under his breath. "I might even manage to make a dent in Sandoval's files..."

Just as Sandoval closed his global after a long but ultimately fruitless discussion with the CIA's current Deputy Director of Operations, the door opened and one of the members of the forensics team poked her head in. "Sir?" she queried.

"What is it, Volunteer?" Sandoval demanded, putting his global down on his desk. She was one of the regular Volunteers, not the elite.

"We've finished the analysis of the explosion site, sir," the Volunteer said.

"Excellent. What was the explosive?"

The Volunteer hesitated for a moment. "According to the results of the tests we've run, sir... it was ordinary Semtex, with a remotely controlled detonator made using Taelon technology," she told him.

"Good," Sandoval declared, feeling pleased. Something like that shouldn't be too hard to track down. "Have you informed Captain Jardine yet?"

"Err... no, sir," the Volunteer replied.

Sandoval's expression darkened. "Why not?" he demanded coldly.

"Sir... the force of the blast was much greater than can be explained by the amount of Semtex that was used," she said. "And we haven't found anything else that could account for the additional force."

Sandoval felt himself tense, but managed to keep the sudden worry from his expression. Of course... Liam's shaqarava!

The blast of energy Liam had directed at the explosion had been powerful enough to deflect the force of the explosion completely, and drain him to the point of unconsciousness. Of course it had been powerful enough to add to the damage caused by the explosion!

But he could hardly tell anyone that. Time to find another explanation, Ron... and quickly!

"You said the detonator was made with Taelon technology?" he questioned after a moment.

"Yes, sir. Energy readings from the site of the explosion itself are consistent with Taelon technology."

"Perhaps the combination of the two is responsible for the increased force of the explosion," he suggested, forcing himself to keep his voice casual.

The expression on the Volunteer's face told Sandoval that she hadn't considered that explanation, and also that she thought it was plausible.

Abruptly, he remembered what else she had said. "You mentioned that the detonator was remote-controlled. Do you know how distant the control had to be?"

"Reasonably close, sir. The best estimate is within two blocks."

So McKenna had been in the area! Sandoval fought back a snarl of rage at the thought that the man who had tried to kill his son had been so close, and none of the surveillance teams had had the slightest clue!

"Why didn't you inform Captain Jardine of this immediately?" he demanded, coldly furious. He saw the Volunteer blanch as he glared at her. "Tell him - now!"

"Yes, sir!" she replied, and hurried out, pulling out her global as she did so.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Sandoval closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, taking deep breaths in an effort to regain control of his emotions. He could feel his skrill start to respond to his anger, and forced himself to continue his breathing. He couldn't afford to lose control, not now.

It took over a minute, but finally Sandoval gained enough control to push the rage away for the moment. He was tired, and so much had happened - so much had changed for him - over the past several days... it was no wonder that he was so close to losing control.

And to think that only a week ago he'd been starting to enjoy his first vacation in five years...

Letting out his breath in a sigh, Sandoval opened his eyes and sat back up. It was too late to concern himself over McKenna's presence this morning - although he intended to have a few rather pointed words with the surveillance teams once this was over - what they needed to do was find out where he was right now.

Picking his global back up from where he'd placed it, Sandoval was just about to open it to call General Prescott when it beeped.

Andrew leaned back in his chair and laced his hands behind his head, grinning as he studied the computer screen in front of him.

Got you, you bastard! he thought in satisfaction.

He'd spent all night working on tracking McKenna from Arizona, without much luck. The man was definitely one of the best from Covert Operations; Andrew had only managed to trace him from a portal in Phoenix to Saskatoon, Saskatchewan by the time the eight o'clock news came on.

It was the lead story - the bombing at the Washington Taelon Embassy - that had given him the trace he needed.

According to McKenna's psychological profile, which had been in the records Ron had sent him, the assassin preferred the 'up-close-and-personal' method, using guns or knives - or crossbows, evidently - to deal with his targets. He didn't like using weapons of mass-destruction - like bombs - regarding them as too likely to result in civilian casualties.

The fact that McKenna had apparently used a bomb at the Embassy told Andrew that the man was obviously losing it, becoming obsessed with killing Major Kincaid - or whatever his real name was - by whatever means necessary. That meant that McKenna would most likely be acting irrationally.

Combining that with his psych profile and skill at disguise, Andrew had come to the conclusion that McKenna would most likely have been in the area of the Embassy at the time of the explosion, if only to make sure that it went off as planned. So, acting on a hunch, he'd checked nearby hotels.

His grin widened as he picked up his global and called Ron. McKenna had definitely messed up this time.

"Andrew?" Ron exclaimed, sounding surprised.

"I've found McKenna for you, Ron," Andrew said, grinning triumphantly.

Ron blinked in surprise. "You have?"

Andrew nodded. "He's holed up in the Hotel Grande, about ten blocks away from the Embassy," he told his friend. "He's registered under the name Michael Gray - it's one of his favourite aliases - in room 309. I checked it out, and apparently he's still there. And there are no portals within seven blocks of the hotel; you and the elite should have no problem apprehending him."

Ron smiled - the hard-edged, icy smile of a predator whose prey is within his grasp. "I owe you one, Andrew. Thanks," he added, before closing the connection.

Andrew tapped the keyboard, removing the registry of the Hotel Grande from his screen. He had no doubt that Ron would get McKenna; even if the assassin tried to run, he wouldn't be able to make it to any of the portals before Ron and the Volunteers captured him. It would be no contest.

So, now that the McKenna situation was taken care of, he could get back to what was really puzzling him - the matter of Major Kincaid, and Ron's odd behaviour during their conversation yesterday.

Once Ron had explained the situation with McKenna to him, he hadn't been all that surprised that his friend wanted him to concentrate on finding the assassin, rather than looking into 'Major Kincaid's' background. And what Ron had said about receiving additional information... well, Ron had more sources than he knew of.

No, what had really puzzled him had been the fact that Ron had referred to the Major as 'Liam' several times during their conversation. That wasn't like Ron; he wasn't that informal towards someone unless he knew them very well. Andrew could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times that Ron had decided to use a colleague's first name in the ten years since they'd joined the FBI. It wasn't like Ron at all. Something was up.

He'd better tell me what's going on, and soon, Andrew decided after a moment. If he doesn't, I'm just going to have to continue looking... I am not going to let Ron endanger himself, not again.

Lt. Col. McKenna opened his eyes and stretched, feeling satisfied. It was - he glanced at his watch - just after three-thirty; he'd slept for over five hours. It had been a pleasant - and much-needed - nap.

Even more pleasant was the thought that Kincaid, the traitor, was finally dead. No one could have survived the blast at the Taelon Embassy; especially not if they had actually been in the room at the time of the explosion, which - according to the tiny camera he'd had wired to the bomb - Kincaid had been.

Standing up, he wandered over to the television set and turned it on, switching to the local news channel. By now they should be running the reports of Kincaid's death.

"And in our lead story today," the attractive anchorwoman was saying, as he turned up the volume and sat down in a comfortable chair facing the television, "there was an explosion at the North American Taelon Embassy, in what appears to be the latest in a series of attacks against both Taelons and Taelon personnel. Last Wednesday, Synod Leader Zo'or was the subject of an assassination attempt in which Major Liam Kincaid, Companion-Protector to Da'an, was injured. Thursday, Zo'or's shuttle was attacked in Egypt following a conference with the African premier and Si'al, the Egyptian Companion. On Sunday, there was an assassination attempt on Major Kincaid. And now, this latest outrage.

"For more details, we go to Luke Ferris, live at the Taelon Embassy."

The view switched to a man of average height, with brown hair and dark eyes, standing in front of the main entrance to the Embassy. Over to one side, McKenna could see a hole in the building where the explosion had evidently breached the wall of Da'an's office.

"Thank you, Natasha," the reporter said. "At seven-thirty this morning, everyone in downtown Washington DC was treated to the sight of a huge ball of flames coming out of the Taelon Embassy. The explosion and the flames were quickly contained, but the damage remains." The reporter gestured with one hand toward the hole in the Embassy's outer wall.

"According to information we have received, the bomb was planted somewhere in Da'an's office. Luckily, no one was actually in the office at the time of the explosion, and injuries were limited to cuts and minor burns from assorted flying debris--"

McKenna snarled as he switched the television off with a vicious jab at the remote.

How the hell could Kincaid have escaped? It should have been impossible! The Major been in the room when he had set off the explosion!

Standing up, McKenna was just starting to reach for his jacket when the door of his room burst open and two Volunteers, wearing body armour and carrying heavy weapons, entered.

"Freeze!" one of them barked.

McKenna did his best to look innocent. "Hey, what's going on?" he asked, letting a touch of nervousness enter his voice as he started to back up toward the window. "What are you doing?"

"Don't move!"

McKenna took another step back, and then froze as he felt a fist touch the back of his neck.

"I'd listen to him if I were you, McKenna," said FBI Agent Ronald Sandoval's voice from behind him, his tone icy. "They've got itchy trigger fingers... and my orders don't say that I have to bring you in alive."

McKenna obediently stayed still as cuffs were put around his wrists and he was searched for weapons. There had been something in Sandoval's voice that told him that the FBI agent would be only too pleased to present a corpse to his Taelon masters.

Once they'd removed both his guns and his boot knife, Sandoval stepped away from him. "Take him to the shuttle," the agent ordered, his eyes cold as he met McKenna's gaze. "I think it's time that the colonel and I had a little... talk."

"Liam... Liam!" a voice called loudly.

Liam opened his eyes slowly and blinked dazedly at the pile of files in front of his nose. His neck felt stiff, and his shoulder was throbbing... And why is my head lying on the desk?

"Liam, you must wake up!" the voice repeated, and this time Liam was able to recognize it - it was Da'an. The Taelon sounded concerned.

"Da'an?" he mumbled, blinking again. He sat up slowly, trying to remember what might have happened, but had no luck. The last thing he could recall was starting to work on a report concerning the New Zealand Volunteer training camp...

As he straightened up, the pain in his shoulder abruptly changed from a dull throbbing to blazing agony, and for a minute he could do nothing except wait for the wave of agony to subside.

When he once again became aware of his surroundings, Da'an was crouched down next to his chair, his expression openly worried. "Liam, what is wrong?" the Taelon asked.

"My shoulder..." Liam gasped out. The agony was starting to lessen, but it was still quite painful.

"I believe that Agent Sandoval gave your painkillers to one of the Volunteers; I will be right back," Da'an said, and hurried away. It seemed like only a moment before he returned, holding the bottle of painkillers in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "How many do you need?" he asked, putting the glass down on the desk.

It was hard to concentrate, the pain occupying his thoughts almost to the exclusion of all else. "Four," he managed to reply after a minute. That was how many Dr. Park had told him to take after he'd landed on the shuttle floor Thursday morning, and although the pain was worse than that had been, he didn't want to take too many. Actually, the pain was as bad as it had been Sunday night, when he'd woken up from the dream of Ha'gel, but there wasn't any anesthetic here, so the painkillers would have to do.

"Here," Da'an said, holding out his hand. Liam took the pills and then sipped at the water to help him swallow, each movement slow and careful.

Putting the water back down, he turned back to Da'an. The painkillers wouldn't take effect for a little while; better to have something else to distract him from the pain until they did. "What happened?" he asked.

Da'an studied him thoughtfully. "You fell asleep," he replied after a moment. "Three hours ago. When Lieutenant Hartland last checked on you, he said that you looked uncomfortable, but he could not wake you."

I-- what? "I fell asleep?" Liam repeated slowly. "How did that happen?" Although, come to think of it... I was starting to feel tired again...

Da'an sighed. "Liam, if you used even a fraction of the energy I sensed from you yesterday to defend yourself and Agent Sandoval, I am surprised that you remained awake for as long as you did."

"I was feeling better after I had something to eat," Liam protested.

"You require more than a meal to recover from that sort of expenditure of energy," Da'an pointed out. "I will contact Corporal Roberts; since Agent Sandoval has captured Lieutenant Colonel McKenna, it should now be safe for you to return home."

WHAT?!

Liam leaned forward a bit, forgetting the pain for a moment. "What-- when-- how?" he blurted out.

Da'an's hands moved in a soothing pattern. "Earlier this afternoon. Agent Sandoval is currently interrogating him," the Taelon replied.

Under ordinary circumstances - or even yesterday, for that matter - Liam would have immediately demanded to join Sandoval. He had his own questions for McKenna - like why the lieutenant colonel had chosen to make him a target.

At the moment, however, he was in a great deal of pain, and now that the shock of McKenna's capture had had a minute or two to fade, he was starting to feel fatigue pull at him. Combined with the thought of finally getting to sleep at home, in his own bed, he found himself agreeing with Da'an's decision.

"All right," he murmured, leaning back in the chair. "I'll let Roberts take me home."

"I am gratified you have decided to be sensible," Da'an commented, his tone ironic.

Liam ignored the gentle taunt, feeling his eyes start to drift closed again. Not even the pain was helping to keep him awake at the moment.

"Liam!" Da'an said sharply.

Liam opened his eyes again and looked blearily at Da'an.

"Do not go back to sleep," Da'an ordered him firmly. "You need to stay awake until you arrive home."

"Right," Liam mumbled. He spent the next several minutes concentrating on keeping his eyes open. It was harder than he'd thought.

Finally, the door opened and Roberts poked his head in. "Ready to go, Major?" the Volunteer pilot asked.

Liam nodded and carefully pushed his chair away from the desk. Da'an extended a hand to help him up, and Liam took it reluctantly. He hated showing any weaknesses... but he had the feeling that he wouldn't be able to stand up at all if he didn't accept Da'an's help.

When they got to Roberts' shuttle, Liam carefully got into his seat and then suffered the indignity of having Da'an fasten the restraints - he was perfectly aware that he most likely wouldn't be able to do it himself, but he didn't have to like it.

He was distantly aware of Da'an giving Roberts what sounded like detailed instructions, but he focused what concentration he had on staying awake.

The trip itself seemed to pass quickly; it appeared to Liam that they'd only just left the mothership when Roberts was landing the shuttle just outside the back of the Flat Planet.

He managed to get the seat restraints off himself, and used his left hand to support him as he stood up. The last thing he wanted at the moment was for Roberts to 'escort' him up to his apartment.

"I can make it from here," Liam told the pilot.

Roberts looked doubtful. "Are you sure, Major?" he asked uncertainly. "If you don't mind me saying so, you look ready to collapse."

Liam nodded as firmly as he could. "I'll be fine. Thank you, Roberts." Getting out of the shuttle, he walked to the door leading to the stairs up to his apartment, and opened it. Once he was in and the door had closed behind him, he heard the shuttle take off.

Climbing the stairs was... interesting - and very slow. He wouldn't have been surprised if it took him half an hour to walk up one flight. Luckily, his door was right by the exit from the stairs, and he stepped in, closed and locked the door, and headed straight for his bedroom. He didn't even bother to take his shoes off before he collapsed into the bed.

Sandoval scowled as he studied McKenna through the virtual glass barrier.

The assassin had refused to answer any questions, except to say that Liam was a traitor and deserved death - which hadn't exactly helped Sandoval keep his temper, though he'd managed it. Barely.

He would have loved to turn McKenna over to the Volunteer 'interrogators', who had become very skilled at extracting the truth from unwilling prisoners. Unfortunately, McKenna was a Covert Ops assassin, which meant that he had extensive training in resisting both interrogation and torture.

If it had been up to him, Sandoval would have just killed McKenna and been done with it. Although the assassin's hatred for the Taelons was something he could understand, by threatening Liam, McKenna had proven that he didn't have a clue about what was really going on, and that made him a serious threat.

The problem with that solution was that they needed to know how McKenna had gotten his information.

First there had been the vaile; Sandoval had no doubt that Doors and Palmer had kept that particular project under the tightest possible security, and yet McKenna had managed to steal it, and in such a way that they hadn't even realized it was missing until three or four days later. Whoever had given McKenna the information about it could prove to be a valuable resource, if properly cultivated.

Then there were the breaches in Taelon security. McKenna had found out about Zo'or's trip to Africa and had been waiting there for Liam. That had been bad enough; but added to that, he had somehow acquired the blueprints of the Washington Taelon Embassy. The Volunteers had found them in his hotel room.

Leaning against the wall so that he couldn't be seen from the cell, Sandoval rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. Getting McKenna to talk looked like it was going to be a long-term project, unfortunately. None of his tricks would work on the man - hell, McKenna had taught him half of them, indirectly!

Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and slammed his hand against the wall in frustration. This was getting him nowhere!

"Agent Sandoval," said a quiet voice from behind him, and Sandoval took a deep breath in an effort to regain control and turned around to see Da'an approaching.

"Da'an," he replied calmly.

"Has McKenna provided you with any information yet?" Da'an inquired, making no mention of his lapse of control, which was a relief. He really didn't want to have to explain it to the Taelon.

Sandoval shook his head. "No; and it's unlikely that he will anytime soon. He's trained to resist interrogation procedures."

Da'an frowned. "Surely there must be some way to convince him to talk. What about drugs?"

Sandoval shrugged. It was a possibility, but not one that he preferred to use. "I am uncertain whether or not they would be effective. We would need a doctor present if we were to try them." Which was the other reason he would prefer not to use drugs. His preference was to be alone when he was interrogating someone, in case they let slip some information that he would rather the Taelons didn't know about - how McKenna had discovered the vaile, for instance.

However, as he thought about it, he realized that drugs might be the only way to get McKenna to talk.

He sighed. "I can have a doctor who is authorized to administer interrogation drugs here by tomorrow," Sandoval said.

"Excellent," Da'an replied. Then he studied Sandoval for a moment. "You appear fatigued, Agent Sandoval," he commented. "If it will take until tomorrow to get this doctor, perhaps you should get some rest."

Da'an was right, of course. He hadn't gotten any sleep last night - he'd been too preoccupied by the revelation that Ha'gel was Liam's other parent; and then there had been the explosion this morning...

Rubbing the bridge of his nose again, he took a deep breath. "Very well. Is Major Kincaid still in my office?"

Da'an looked puzzled at the question. "Corporal Roberts piloted him home some time ago," he replied. "Now that McKenna has been captured, there was no reason for Major Kincaid to remain on board the mothership."

No reason - except that I automatically assumed that he would be coming back to my apartment with me, Sandoval thought ruefully. Considering Liam's reaction to the idea of staying away from his own apartment for the past five days, it shouldn't have been much of a surprise that he would have seized on the chance go home. "In that case, Da'an, I will see you in the morning," he said, nodding to the Taelon, and headed for the shuttle bay.

Liam looked around, feeling scared. He knew this place; it was the same place where he'd met Ha'gel when he'd gone to rescue Augur and Maiya... but it felt... different. Not like the psychokinetic dimension he'd been in.

Why am I here?

"I'm sorry, Li'am," came a quiet voice from behind him, and Liam turned; and stared at the gleaming being in front of him.

"Ha'gel?" he asked hesitantly. What was going on? And why did he feel so uneasy?

"I'm sorry," the Kimera repeated.

"For what?" Liam asked. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to like this...

"For the burden I've placed on you," Ha'gel replied. "I was the last of my kind..."

No! Liam screamed mentally, knowing what was coming. This isn't real... this is a dream... this isn't real...

"I succumbed to a biological imperative," Ha'gel was continuing...

...Only all of a sudden, it wasn't Ha'gel's voice. It was Sandoval's.

"I'm sorry, Liam," Sandoval - and it was Sandoval this time, not Ha'gel - said, and began moving away.

Leaving him.

"Father!" Liam called desperately. Sandoval didn't turn back. "Father, please! Don't go!" His voice rose to an anguished scream. "Father!"

Liam's eyes snapped open and he stared up at the ceiling for a moment before he realized that he was at home, safe. Alone.

Tears sprang to his eyes as he remembered the dream. It was like the one he'd had both Sunday and Monday nights... except that those times, it had only been Ha'gel in the dream; Sandoval hadn't been there at all - hadn't abandoned him the way Ha'gel had.

But now...

Sandoval had to have seen his shaqarava. There really was no way he couldn't have. And he'd said that they needed to 'talk'.

Shivering, Liam sat up, adjusting his sling to relieve some of the pressure he could feel on his shoulder. At least it wasn't hurting too badly.

Sandoval would demand to know the truth; that was the way he was. And Liam would have to tell him. There would be no more hiding behind surprise gifts and little clues...

But how would his father react?

If his dream was accurate... Sandoval would reject him. Or possibly... turn him over to the Taelons.

It's just a dream. It's just a dream. That's all it is. Liam repeated the mantra over and over, trying to convince himself. It doesn't have that feeling; it's not a vision.

I hope...

Taking a shaky breath, he rubbed his left hand across his eyes, blotting away the tears. Whatever happened, crying wouldn't help.

"And he was looking for me," Liam murmured out loud, in an effort to boost his spirits. Maybe if he actually heard the words, it would help him to believe them. "He wanted to find me."

Except that you don't know that he still wants to. You've been too busy to find out whether he's continued to search since Dr. Curzon told him that his son was a hybrid.

"Stop it!" Liam snapped at himself. He didn't want to think about that. In fact, there was a lot he didn't really want to think about. He needed to do something.

Standing up, he cast a glance at his watch, and blinked in surprise. Nine o'clock? Was it evening... or had he slept the entire night?

Walking into the main room, he pulled the curtains aside for a moment. It was morning.

He could go to the Embassy. He'd have to go anyway - Da'an's office had probably been devastated, which meant that he was going to have to see if anything could be salvaged - and it would definitely serve to keep him occupied.

Sandoval can find you there with no problem, came the thought, but Liam ignored it. If his father wanted to find him, he could do so easily enough; Liam didn't have to be at the Embassy for that. And at least at the Embassy he could distract himself.

And when Sandoval finds you and demands to speak to you? What will you tell him? Do you really think he'll be willing to accept you? He's tried to kill you--

"Stop thinking like that!" Liam said, furious with himself. Grabbing his jacket, he draped it over himself and walked out the door.

"What?" Sandoval said carefully, staring at Zo'or. He could not believe that he'd really just heard what he thought he had.

Zo'or looked at him. "I thought I had made myself quite clear, Agent Sandoval. I said that you are to take the rest of your vacation, starting today."

"But... Zo'or... Is now really the best time? With Major Kincaid on medical leave for two weeks," Sandoval protested, "that leaves you with no--"

Zo'or waved his hand dismissively. "Si'al has agreed to lend me Colonel Ahmid's services as Protector while you are on vacation, and Ra'am's Protector will be available if need be." He turned away. "Enjoy your vacation, Agent Sandoval," he said dismissively.

Sandoval stared narrowly at Zo'or for a moment before he obediently left the bridge.

He'd arrived on board the mothership two hours ago, had made the arrangements for one of the FBI's doctors to come up to handle the interrogation of McKenna, and then Zo'or had summoned him.

As he walked through the corridors of the mothership, he considered Zo'or's actions carefully. It wasn't like the Taelon to be concerned for the well-being of any Implant, which made the reasons he had given for ordering Sandoval to finish his vacation - namely, that Sandoval looked as though he could use a break - suspicious at best. And added to that, the way Zo'or had insisted that he work from the Washington Embassy yesterday, rather than the mothership...

Sandoval's mouth tightened. It was becoming more and more likely that Zo'or was up to something... something that he wasn't sharing. The question was: what?

He stalked into his office, barely giving Captain Jardine a nod as he passed him. To make things even worse, this also meant that he wouldn't be able to question McKenna about the leak at Doors International.

He sat down in his chair and glowered at his desk. This was not shaping up to be a good day.

Then his eyes fell on the large envelope he'd brought up from his apartment, and he took a deep breath. He'd promised himself that as soon as McKenna was caught, he'd talk to Liam. Well, McKenna was in a cell a few levels away, awaiting the arrival of Dr. Bacon; it was time. He couldn't keep putting this off.

Pulling out his pocket watch, he checked the time; it was almost ten o'clock in Washington DC. Liam should be awake and up and about by now.

Opening his global, he input his son's number, and waited.

Liam sighed as he surveyed the wreckage of Da'an's office. The damage from the bomb had been extensive, and despite the fact that over twenty-four hours had passed, the building still hadn't managed to completely repair itself yet.

Corporal Standings, who'd apparently been helping the forensics team yesterday, had said that they believed that the reason there had been so much damage done was that the detonator - which had been made with Taelon technology - had interacted with the Semtex from the bomb, and that that interaction was responsible for the excessive force produced by the bomb's blast.

Liam knew better.

Glancing down at his hands, he winced. The energy he'd used to push the explosion away had added to the damage caused by the bomb - and it had been a lot of energy, which meant that he was partially responsible for the damage.

On the other hand, if he hadn't used his shaqarava, he and Sandoval would most likely have been vaporized; that made the damage by far the lesser of two evils.

Leaning carefully against the wall, he frowned. Yesterday he'd been too out of it to fully consider the implications of his shaqarava being active again - aside from the danger of the fact that Sandoval had seen--

No! Don't think about that!

Shaking his head in an unconscious effort to push the thought away, Liam returned his gaze to the devastation in front of him.

It's a good thing that I don't tend to store anything terribly important in my desk, he reflected ruefully. The explosion had utterly destroyed it; he didn't think there was a piece of the desk larger than a square inch still left in existence.

Da'an's chair and the portal had also been damaged, but not nearly as seriously - after all, it was his desk that had been at the centre of the blast. The portal had been removed, and Volunteers were going to install a new one later today; and Da'an's chair was part of the building, and as a result was already being repaired by the automatic systems. His desk would have to wait a bit longer.

Of course, since McKenna had been caught, he was now officially on medical leave, Liam remembered. For two weeks. So there wouldn't be a huge rush to get it done.

Two weeks. What am I supposed to do for two weeks? Liam thought with a sigh. Aside from avoiding Sandoval and letting Dr. Park run those tests...

Pushing himself away from the wall, Liam was just about to head out of the Embassy when his global beeped. He opened it, and almost groaned when he saw who it was. So much for avoiding him...

"What is it, Sandoval?" he asked, doing his best to keep the apprehension he felt out of his voice.

"I need to see you in my office," Sandoval replied. "There are some things that we need to discuss." His face bore its usual impassive mask, but there was no doubt in Liam's mind as to what the subject of the 'discussion' would be.

Unfortunately, he couldn't exactly run - there was nowhere to go.

"I'll be right up," Liam replied. Closing his global again, he took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm himself down, and went in search of Cpl. Roberts.

Renee leaned forward and rubbed her forehead with one hand.

She'd been working most of yesterday and all last night in an effort to discover exactly what had happened to the emergency portal that had supposedly been sent to the Arctic research facility; and so far, she hadn't found anything. Or to be more precise, she hadn't found anything to explain why the portal had never gotten there.

According to all the records, the portal had been sent to the Arctic, and had arrived there - and had been signed for by Dr. Greenbaum.

Which meant that either Dr. Greenbaum was lying - which was possible, but unlikely, since Renee trusted Jonathan's instincts about his people - or someone had done some expert forgeries, and the portal had actually gone somewhere else.

The emergency portals were outgoing only, and were hardwired to send any authorized users directly to the portal in the basement levels of Doors International's headquarters. Unauthorized users - anyone who wasn't either assigned to the portal's facility or a high-ranking member of DI - simply weren't transported. But if the portal had been in someone's hands long enough for them to program a new selection of 'authorized users' - which it could easily have been, since it had been missing for almost three years - it could be a serious security threat.

And then there was the matter of the vaile... As Dr. Morneaux had pointed out, the only way for McKenna to have known about it was for someone to have told him. Unless he'd discovered it completely by accident, of course... but that was highly unlikely. So that was something else that she had to look into - and soon.

Then there was that venture Jonathan was starting with Reynaud, ibn Muhammad, and Tradden... That was yet another thing she had to work on.

If Liam ever finds out about that, his tantrum over the vaile will probably pale into insignificance by comparison, she thought sourly, continuing to rub her forehead. She was starting to develop a headache. Not that it was much of a surprise, considering what she had to deal with at the moment, and the fact that she hadn't gotten any sleep for the past day and a half... And just what did Jonathan mean when he said that he could deal with Liam if it was needed?

Sighing, she stood up and walked over to the coffee pot she kept in her office for when she had these all-nighters. She just hoped that Liam was having more luck finding McKenna than she was dealing with the security breaches.

Turning around to head back to her desk, she froze as a sudden thought struck her. "Oh, my God..."

Sitting down, she immediately ordered the computer to bring up all security records from the lower levels for - not this past Monday - but the one before it; the day McKenna had broken in. If I'm right...

Liam quietly eased open the door to Sandoval's office and slipped in.

Sandoval was sitting at his desk, his attention fixed on the screen in front of him - probably reading a report of some kind. He didn't look up as Liam entered; instead, he simply instructed, "Lock the door."

Liam hesitated for a moment, uncertain - Why does he want the door locked? he wondered - and then obediently did so. He glanced around the office for a moment, absently noticing that Sandoval's desk was clear except for a single piece of paper, and then slowly sat down in his usual chair. "You... said there were some things we needed to discuss," he started carefully.

Sandoval sighed and leaned back in his chair, flicking off his screen. Turning to face Liam directly, he nodded. "Yes... in fact, there are quite a few things we have to discuss. The first involves McKenna."

Liam blinked, feeling confused and off-balance. He'd expected the first thing Sandoval would do would be to demand an explanation of exactly why he had shaqarava - not to act as though this was an ordinary meeting. "What about him?" he asked, doing his best to keep the confusion out of his voice.

"Da'an informed me that he had told you that McKenna had been captured; did he provide you with any details?"

Liam shook his head. "No..." he replied. He wasn't about to explain to Sandoval that he'd been too out of it yesterday to understand, even if Da'an had tried. It would only raise questions, and if Sandoval wasn't going to mention his shaqarava, he certainly wasn't going to bring them up.

His father nodded. "The detonator for the bomb was remote-controlled, and apparently the remote had to be within a two-block radius of the detonator to be effective," he explained. "We found McKenna lodged in a hotel about ten blocks from the Embassy."

Liam frowned. "Why would he have done that?" he demanded. "It doesn't make sense! He had to know that we would be looking for him!"

"Because he thought that you - or possibly both of us, he hasn't told me which - were dead," said Sandoval. "The forensics technicians found the remains of a miniature camera in the debris from the explosion. The Volunteers found the record from the camera in McKenna's bags. He knew that we were both in the room when he detonated the bomb.

"He probably assumed that the Volunteers would be too distracted to look for him immediately; and he had laid a carefully concealed false trail through the portal system to help throw them off his track, which he activated before doubling back and renting a room under an alias. I wouldn't be surprised if he thought that once they started looking, they wouldn't think to look nearby."

Liam shifted uneasily in his chair. If not for his shaqarava, the bomb would have killed both of them - he had no doubt of that. The question was, did Sandoval realize it?

Then Sandoval met Liam's eyes, his expression intense, but otherwise unreadable. "When were you planning on telling me?" he asked abruptly.

Liam stared at him in complete bewilderment. Where had that come from? He felt almost as though Sandoval had suddenly not only switched subjects, but had also started right in the middle of a conversation. And what had he meant by that? "What are you talking about, Sandoval?" he asked, feeling the apprehension start to return in a rush.

Sandoval studied his face for a long moment, and then pulled open one of his desk drawers. "I suppose, in a way, I should almost be grateful to McKenna," he said reflectively, reaching into the drawer and pulling something out. "Without what happened, I don't know if I'd have ever made the connection."

He put the item he'd taken from the drawer onto his desk, next to the piece of paper Liam had noticed earlier; and Liam froze, feeling his heart rise in his throat, as he recognized it. It was the birthday card he'd given Sandoval with the pictures, the one that had said in writing what he'd wanted to say out loud. He knows...

Sandoval looked at him again, his expression calm, not giving away any hint of what he thought. "Using your left hand to write this was quite a clever idea, actually," he said evenly. "It was only the fact that I compared it to the directions you'd given me to The Happy Greek that made me realize the truth. When were you going to tell me? Or were you waiting for me to figure it out myself?"

He knows! "I-I..." Liam stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence. When did he find out? What is he going to do?

"Liam?"

The memory of his nightmare from this morning surfaced, seizing his attention. "I'm sorry, Liam." That was what Sandoval had said, just before he'd walked away. Had it been a vision? He'd never really anticipated that Sandoval would discover the truth before he decided that it would be safe to tell him... not even when he'd figured out that Sandoval was looking for him... What will he do now?

Will he walk away, like in the dream? Is he going to tell Zo'or and the Synod? Liam felt a chill go through him at the thought of being turned over to the Taelon scientists as an 'experiment'. Does he... would he really even want a hybrid son? Ha'gel didn't...

"Liam, look at me!" Sandoval said sharply, interrupting the fears whirling through his mind.

Liam blinked, surprised to find Sandoval standing right next to him. He hadn't even realized that Sandoval had gotten up.

He didn't dare look at Sandoval's face, dreading what he would see there; contempt - or worse, disgust...

"It's all right," Sandoval said firmly.

It took a moment for the words to penetrate Liam's fear. 'It's all right.' Did that mean... Hesitantly, he looked up at his father; really looked.

Sandoval gave his son a tentative smile, hoping to convey his feelings and erase the terrified look from Liam's face.

The minute Liam had figured out what Sandoval was asking, his face had gone as white as a sheet and his expression had become one of absolute terror.

That hadn't been at all what Sandoval had expected. He'd had no idea that Liam would react this way to finding out that he knew.

But it should have, he reflected somberly, as he crouched down in front of his son. Liam is Kimera - which means that if Zo'or and the Synod found out... they'd want him dead, at any cost. They certainly didn't hesitate to order Ha'gel killed. And Liam has to know that.

And considering what I've done for Zo'or before this... what I've done to Liam... No, I shouldn't be surprised he's reacting this way. I should have thought this through better.

"It's all right," he repeated, trying to gentle his tone. That probably wasn't the best way to put it, but at the moment, Sandoval simply couldn't think of anything else to say.

Liam hesitated for a second, and then, to Sandoval's surprise, he suddenly found himself with his arms wrapped around Liam's shoulders as his son clung to him, shaking.

A moment later, Liam pulled away, his face flushed. "I-I'm sorry," he murmured, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the floor just to the side of Sandoval's desk. His voice sounded thick, as though he was close to tears.

"Don't be," Sandoval said firmly. I definitely should have given a lot more thought to how I was going to handle this. "I meant it when I said that it was all right." He reached up to rest one hand on Liam's good shoulder, feeling the minute tremors that still shook his son's frame as he did so.

After a moment, he felt Liam's shivering start to subside. He didn't let go or move away, however; something told him that doing so would be the worst possible move at this point.

They stayed like this - Liam looking down at the floor and Sandoval crouched beside him, watching him - for a few minutes, and Sandoval was relieved to feel Liam relaxing even further. It appeared that this, at least, was the right way to handle things.

"So," Sandoval said finally, judging that Liam was relaxed enough for him to ask, "when were you going to tell me?"

There was a pause, and then, "I don't know," Liam admitted quietly.

He pulled away from Sandoval's hand; Sandoval let him go, but found himself surprised at how hard it was.

"I... I don't know if I was going to tell you," Liam continued after a moment, his eyes still focused on the floor and his voice soft. "I wanted to, especially after..." He hesitated. "After you were... sick, but..." He faltered, and Sandoval could see that he was reluctant to continue.

"I was looking for you," Sandoval said quietly.

Liam's head jerked up at that, and he met Sandoval's eyes for the first time since this conversation had started.

"When Dr. Curzon told me about the blood, told me I had a son..." It was Sandoval's turn to pause, as he remembered the combination of shock and joy he'd felt at the revelation. "More than anything else, I wanted to find him - you. As soon as I got out of the hospital, I started searching. Everywhere.

"In fact," he added, wondering why it was suddenly his voice that sounded thicker, "that was how I'd planned to spend my vacation; looking for you."

Liam blinked, his expression incredulous; and then it faded, to be replaced with hesitation, as something else apparently occurred to him. "W-what else do you know?" he asked, his voice getting even softer; he was obviously nervous, though not as terrified as he had been.

As Liam spoke, Sandoval started to stand up and stretch; he'd been getting a bit stiff from crouching so long. He saw a sudden flash of fear cross Liam's face, and sighed silently. Speaking in a calm, quiet tone, hoping to put his son at ease, he replied, "I know that you're part-Kimera, and that Siobhan was your mother - which explained some things I had been wondering about. I admit, it took me a while to figure it all out, but I did.

"And no," he added, hoping that this would relieve Liam's fear, "I haven't told Zo'or anything; and I don't intend to."

Liam didn't appear to be as concerned about that as he'd expected. Instead, his son asked, "And... you don't mind?" He sounded uncertain, and the fear hadn't left his face.

Don't mind? Don't mind what? Sandoval wondered, puzzled... and then, abruptly, all the pieces started to come together. The pictures and the card... the revelation that his son was a hybrid... Liam's reaction to the fact that he knew the truth...

He's afraid I won't want him!

"Liam... you're my son." It was the first time in this conversation that either of them had mentioned it directly. "Everything else... I won't say it doesn't matter, because it's all part of what makes you who you are, but it doesn't change that one essential fact. You. Are. My. Son. That is what's important to me. That's all that's important to me."

The tension in Liam's slender frame disappeared completely, and Sandoval found himself relaxing as well.

"Now--" he began, about to tell Liam about Zo'or's orders concerning his vacation, when his global abruptly beeped, interrupting him. "Damn it!" he swore. I told Jardine not to disturb me... unless it's important. Damn! "This will just take a minute, Liam," he assured his son, and then headed back to his desk and picked up his global.

Liam leaned back in his chair and let his attention drift as his father answered the call.

He felt almost like a puppet who'd just had its strings cut, so great was the relief he felt. Sandoval - his father - knew about him... and wanted him!

It was a difficult thought to absorb, considering he'd spent the past couple of months worrying about what would happen when Sandoval found out, but he believed it.

Between his father's memories and his own experiences with Sandoval as a colleague, he could recognize when Sandoval was hiding his emotions, and when he was revealing them. Most of the time they remained hidden; in fact, Liam was pretty sure that before this, the only time he'd really gotten an honest look at his father's emotions was the fit of temper Sandoval had had in the hospital when he'd been sick. Before today.

Everything Sandoval had said to him this morning was true. It wasn't just wishful thinking on his part; the emotions behind the words had been honest - and real.

"Liam?"

Liam looked over towards Sandoval's desk to see that his father had finished his conversation, and was looking none too pleased. "What is it?"

His father grimaced. "Colonel Ahmid's here to be briefed on Zo'or's schedule for the next two weeks."

"What?" Liam asked, confused. What was going on?

"I was going to tell you, just before Captain Jardine called, that Zo'or's essentially ordered me to take my vacation - the full two weeks. Since you're going to be on medical leave, Zo'or arranged for Colonel Ahmid to fill in for me."

His father paused, and, not looking at Liam, added carefully, "I was wondering... there's a cabin that the Bureau occasionally uses as a safehouse - or a vacation spot - about three hours drive away from here. It's empty right now..." He hesitated, and then met Liam's eyes directly. "I was wondering if you'd like to come with me."

Liam's eyes widened in surprise at the invitation. "Come with you?" he repeated.

His father looked... uncomfortable, which surprised Liam even more. "You are on medical leave for those same two weeks," he pointed out. "And..." Sandoval hesitated for a moment. "You're my son, Liam. I'd... like to get the chance to know you."

"Yes," Liam declared firmly. He didn't even have to think about it. "Yes, I'll come." He smiled tentatively. "I... I'd like that too."

Sandoval took a deep breath, feeling relief run through him. This wasn't going to be easy, of course. There was a lot of history between the two of them, most of it unpleasant; but he was willing to try, and so was Liam. They'd make it work.

"I've still got some things to do up here - like brief Colonel Ahmid," he said. "And finish making arrangements for the cabin. And you should probably see Dr. Park before we leave. How about I pick you up at your apartment tonight? That will give you the rest of the day to pack and tell whoever you need to."

"All right," Liam replied, just as someone outside chimed for admittance.

Sandoval glared at the door, and then grimaced ruefully. "I'll see you tonight," he told his son.

Liam nodded shyly, and then headed for the door as Sandoval schooled his expression back into his typical impassive mask. Unlocking it, Liam nodded to Colonel Ahmid and Captain Jardine, and then disappeared down the hall.

"Thank you, Captain; that will be all," Sandoval said, dismissing Jardine with a slight nod. Then he turned to Colonel Ahmid. "If you'll take a seat, Colonel, we'll get started on Zo'or's itinerary for the next two weeks. He has an interview in Baltimore tomorrow afternoon; security arrangements are already in place, but you will want to review them..."

Doors frowned slightly as he tapped the screen. It flickered and changed, revealing Henri Reynaud's face.

"Henri? Is something wrong?" Doors asked.

"Mais non, mon ami!" Henri replied. "Au contraire; I have some very good news for you, Jonathan."

"Oh?" Doors inquired, leaning forward. "And what news might that be?"

Henri smiled. "I think that we are going to be ready ahead of schedule on that little project we discussed Monday," his friend replied.

Doors smiled, surprised. "That's very good to hear, Henri! The sooner we get this into operation, the better off humanity will be."

"Bien sûr; that is why my people have been working non-stop on the matter of the infrastructure. I look forward to taking you and the lovely Ms. Palmer on a tour."

"I look forward to it as well," Doors said, and then stopped as the door to his office was flung open and the aforementioned Ms. Palmer entered, her expression boding no good. "Henri, I'm afraid I have to go," he told his friend. "I'll call you back a bit later to arrange a time, all right?"

"Certainement," Henri replied, and the channel closed.

Doors looked up as Renee stalked over to his desk and perched on the corner. "All right, Renee, what is it?"

"I think I have an idea as to who snatched the emergency portal," Renee began. "And you're not going to like it, Jonathan."

Doors frowned darkly. "I don't like it already," he snapped. "One of our emergency portals being stolen... it's a potential security nightmare!"

"Well, that nightmare became a reality last week," Renee replied grimly. "Remember we were wondering how McKenna managed to get in and evade all the security cameras and sensors leading to the lower levels?"

Doors' frowned deepened. He didn't like where this was going. "Are you trying to tell me that McKenna used the stolen emergency portal to enter this building?" he demanded.

Renee nodded. "That's exactly what I'm telling you," she confirmed. Leaning over, she tapped a command into his computer, bringing up the security record for the top-secret portal room. The date and time stamp said that it was from last Monday.

There was a flash of light from the portal, and a moment later, McKenna was standing there. A moment after that, the record went blank - like all the other ones on the lower levels.

"The camera re-activated an hour later, just like all the rest," Renee added.

Doors rubbed his forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache. "You know what this implies, don't you?"

Renee nodded solemnly. "Yes, I do. The organization and foresight needed to pull this off..." She trailed off. Neither of them needed to say it out loud.

There was another player in the game.

Dr. Park looked up as the door to her office opened and Liam poked his head in.

"Busy?" he asked.

Dr. Park laughed. "Always," she replied. "But not too busy. Do you want to come in?"

Opening the door wider, Liam slipped in - and Dr. Park frowned. "Where's your escort?" she demanded. "After what happened yesterday morning, I would have thought they'd be sticking to you like glue."

"Oh, Sandoval and the Volunteers got McKenna yesterday afternoon," Liam replied. "He's in a cell on the mothership at the moment, awaiting trial."

As relieved as she was to hear that, Dr. Park couldn't help frowning deeper as she studied the young man. Liam sounded... happy. Happier than he'd been in a long time.

Not that that was a bad thing... in fact, it was nice to see Liam happy for once. But considering the events of the past week, his reaction was... unusual, to say the least.

"What's up?" she asked. "You sound... cheerful."

Liam gave her a faint smile. "I'm taking advantage of those two weeks of medical leave you and Da'an foisted on me," he replied. "I'm going to take a vacation."

"A vacation," Dr. Park repeated slowly.

Liam nodded. "And don't worry; I'll have someone with me," he added. "I just thought I'd better let you know what I'm doing."

"Who are you going with?" she demanded, concerned. "Just in case... something... happens..." Her eyes flickered down to his hands.

Liam met her gaze evenly. "Someone I trust," he replied. Judging from his expression, he didn't intend to give her any more details.

Dr. Park sighed resignedly. "All right, as long as you're sure... So, how are you feeling?" she added, gesturing towards the chair opposite her.

Sitting down, Liam sighed. "My shoulder's hurting a bit, but not too much," he replied. "It's throbbing, but not in agony."

"And," she lowered her voice, "your shaqarava?"

"Oh, right... umm..." Liam hesitated, and then held out his left hand for her to take a look.

Taking it, Dr. Park's eyes opened wide in surprise. The dark red mark was gone; in its place was the light, reddish-tinged diamond shape that Liam had had originally. "What happened?" she demanded.

Liam squirmed slightly in his chair. "I assume you heard about the bombing?" he asked.

Dr. Park glared. "It was on all the news programs, Liam. Of course I heard about it!" Then she noticed the cut on his forehead. "Was that caused by the bomb?" she asked, gesturing to it. The cut appeared to be half-healed, but he definitely hadn't had it Monday afternoon when he'd left the hospital.

"Yes..." Liam began slowly. "But... I would have been dead, if I hadn't managed to activate my shaqarava. When everything was over, they were back to..." he waved his left hand to illustrate.

Frowning thoughtfully, Dr. Park studied him. He was hiding something. It was obvious to her; after all, she'd known him since he was born. But if whatever he was hiding was important, he would have told her.

"All right. How many painkillers do you have left?"

Liam reached into his pocket and pulled out the bottle. "Uh... about half of them, I think," he replied, frowning at it.

"I'll write you another prescription. How far away will you be?" she continued.

"The place is apparently a three-hour drive from the city," Liam replied, sticking the bottle back in his pocket.

Dr. Park handed him the new prescription. "If anything happens, you call me, okay?" she said firmly.

Liam grinned at her. "Sure. But I'll be fine. I promise."

"And when you come back, see me about those tests we have to do," she added, as Liam got up and started for the door.

"Will do! I'll talk to you later," Liam added, before disappearing out the door.

Dr. Park looked after him for a few moments, and then got up, locked the door, and returned to her desk. Reaching under it, she tapped a button, and a concealed drawer sprung out.

The only thing in the drawer was a set of medical records. Liam's. The real ones, not the ones that were on file as Major Kincaid's.

Opening the file, she spent over an hour reading through every entry that she - or Dr. Belman - had ever made, from the detailed tests she'd done on Liam just after he was born, to Sunday's scan results. She added a cryptic note to the end of the file about the return of Liam's shaqarava, and then sat back in her chair and thought about what she'd just read.

The problem was that Liam was only a year old; and they simply didn't know enough about the Kimera to determine what sorts of things would be normal for him, and what wouldn't. That was one of the reasons she and Julianne dragged Liam in for extensive medical tests every two months; so that they had as much data as they could get, just in case something did happen.

There was a pattern to the results of the last two sets of tests, but she wasn't entirely certain what it was yet, just that it was definitely there. Something was changing. And she had no idea what it was, or what to do about it - or if anything should be done about it, for that matter!

I'm going to have to speak to Julianne about this, she decided finally. Whatever happened, they were going to have to be prepared.

Da'an looked up as Liam walked into the room that was serving as his office until the Embassy's systems finished the repairs. "Liam," he acknowledged. "You are looking much better today."

The young hybrid grinned. "Thanks, Da'an. I'm sorry about being... so... out of it last night; what happened yesterday morning really drained me."

"As I told you last night, I was not surprised by that," Da'an replied calmly. Then he studied Liam's face for a moment. "Is there something I can help you with, Liam?" he added.

Liam hesitated for a moment, and then forged ahead. "About my medical leave--"

"I will not go against Dr. Park's recommendations in this matter, Liam," Da'an interrupted firmly. "You need the rest. You will take two weeks of medical leave, beginning today."

"Umm... actually, Da'an, I wasn't really coming here to argue about it," Liam admitted, giving him a rueful smile. "I... made some plans, and I wanted to let you know about them."

"Oh?" Da'an inquired. What had changed Liam's mind so firmly? Only two days ago, he had been set against the medical leave, and resentful of the fact that both Dr. Park and Da'an were insisting upon it. What was different now? "What sort of plans?"

"I'm going to be staying at a cabin out in the country," Liam explained.

"For the two weeks?" Da'an asked.

His Protector nodded.

"Will you be able to manage, with your shoulder?" Da'an continued.

"Someone's coming with me," Liam replied. "I'll be fine, Da'an. I'll see you in two weeks, okay?"

"Of course," Da'an said calmly, and then watched Liam leave.

He was glad that Liam had reconciled himself to the fact that he needed this medical leave. He only hoped that the young hybrid would have the chance to relax while he was away.

Although... He still couldn't help but wonder; why had Liam changed his mind? And... who was going with him? It wasn't as though Liam had many friends, a fact for which - he reflected guiltily - he was greatly responsible.

Sandoval waited patiently as Dr. Bacon got out of the shuttle, checking his pocket watch as he did so.

Personally, he neither cared for nor trusted the doctor, but the man was good at his job, and knew how to follow orders to the letter, both of which were important. All the more so because Sandoval wasn't going to be there to handle the interrogation and ask the questions himself.

"Doctor," Sandoval greeted him coolly.

"Agent Sandoval," Dr. Bacon responded, equally coolly.

"I have a list of questions for you to ask the prisoner," Sandoval said, gesturing slightly toward the corridor that would lead them to the cells. "The order doesn't matter; use your judgment. Ask them in whichever order you feel will gain us the most information. But all the questions must be answered, completely. We need that information."

"Of course," Bacon replied.

Sandoval took the paper he'd listed the questions on out of his pocket and handed it to the doctor. "There may be some difficulties," he added.

Bacon stopped and turned to study him. "What sort of 'difficulties'?" he demanded.

"Lieutenant Colonel McKenna is a fully-trained professional assassin. He is most resistant to all regular methods of interrogation, which is the reason you were called in," Sandoval replied. "He may be resistant to some of your methods as well. You must be careful; we need him alive. You will be given full access to his medical records; that should be of some help."

"I will need access to records of his training as well," Bacon said curtly, turning away and beginning to walk again.

"Not all of those records are available," Sandoval replied calmly. "Those that are will accompany his medical records."

"Well, I suppose that will have to suffice. It may take several days to get all the answers you require, however," the doctor added.

"That is acceptable. Just make sure we get them. Once he has answered all the questions, give the answers to Captain Jardine." Jardine didn't like Bacon any more than he did, although they'd only met once, but the captain knew how to do his job. And in spite of his dislike, he had a certain grudging respect for the doctor's ability to get information.

Captain Jardine met them at the cells. "Agent Sandoval, your shuttle is ready," he reported. Then he nodded to the doctor. "Dr. Bacon," he acknowledged. "Your patient is in cell 4. He's already been given a light lunch. His files are on the terminal in the security room."

"Very well," Dr. Bacon said, nodding shortly, and headed straight for the security room.

Jardine watched him go, and then sighed. "I hope you have a pleasant vacation, sir," he said.

"Thank you, Captain. And just... do your best to ignore Bacon - at least until he comes up with something," Sandoval advised.

"Yes, sir," Jardine said, sighing again. "I guess I'd better go keep an eye on him for the moment, though; don't want him trying to get into anything he shouldn't."

Sandoval's mouth twitched. "I'll see you in two weeks, Captain," he said calmly, and then turned and headed for the shuttle bay.

Colonel Ahmid had been briefed, Zo'or had been informed, the cabin had been reserved; all that remained was for him to get packed and then pick Liam up this evening.

The next two weeks were going to be an interesting experience, Sandoval suspected... and one that he was looking forward to. Very, very much.

McKenna lay on the ledge in his cell, staring up at the ceiling.

For the past twenty hours, he'd been unable to focus beyond one single thought; This is impossible! Kincaid should be dead!

He had never failed so badly before.

And now, not only had he failed to kill his target, but he'd also been captured by the Taelons. Definitely not a good situation to be in, especially considering what details he'd heard of how the aliens' puppets worked.

With a sigh, he sat up and eyed the tray a Volunteer had brought in half an hour ago. Grimacing at the sight of the food - 'gruel' was the term that sprang to mind - he reached for the spoon that had been provided with it.

McKenna's face twisted in disgust at the taste of the meal, but he finished it. There was still a chance, however slight, that he would manage to escape; and if he did, he would need his strength.

As he went to lift the napkin up, he caught sight of a small, folded piece of paper underneath it.

McKenna put the napkin back down on the tray and stood up. Wandering over to the virtual glass barrier that formed the front wall of his cell, he glanced around, acting as though he was looking for a Volunteer to come get the tray.

There was no one in the corridor; he wouldn't be seen.

Returning to the ledge, he sat back down, and then frowned and picked up the napkin again, this time making sure that he picked the paper up with it.

Bringing the napkin up to his face as if he was going to wipe his mouth - just in case there was surveillance in the cell - he scanned the note.

It was very short, and the contents brought a faint smile to McKenna's face. His slight chance at escape had just increased.

Reading it again, he nodded slowly before replacing the napkin - though not the note, which he slipped by sleight of hand into the collar of the jumpsuit he'd been given - on the tray, and then lay back down on the ledge.

'Death to the traitors'... yes, I may just manage to get out of here with my skin intact.

"And in international news today, the man responsible for the recent attacks on Synod Leader Zo'or, Companion-Protector Major Liam Kincaid, and yesterday's bombing of the Taelon Embassy in Washington has been apprehended by a Volunteer task force. Lieutenant Colonel Gary McKenna, a member of the US Army Rangers, is currently in custody on board the Taelon mothership awaiting trial.

"Neither FBI Special Agent Ronald Sandoval - who was in charge of the task force - nor Major Kincaid were available for comment."

Janine Deere turned the screen off and turned to her friend. "So, what do you think about all that?" she asked.

"All what?" returned Alison McPherson, who was trying her best to look as though she hadn't been paying attention to the CBC noon news broadcast as she dusted the bookshelves by the entrance. It hadn't been very busy so far this morning - only two customers, both of whom knew exactly what they wanted and were in and out within minutes - but, as with all bookstores, Ye Olde Booke Shoppe required constant dusting. It was Ali's pet theory that books - especially old and rare ones - had an almost magnetic attraction for dust.

"The news, Ali, the news!" Janine exclaimed in exasperation. "They've caught the man responsible for yesterday's bombing in Washington!"

Ali shrugged. "You know my feelings about the Taelons, Janey," she replied. "I don't give a damn about them or what happens to them."

Janine sighed. "Whatever you say, Ali," she said. "But you can't deny that the world is a safer place, thanks to the Taelons."

Or so they claim, Ali thought sourly. She knew better. She had experienced first-hand the results of some of what the Taelons had done. Not that she could tell Janine - or anyone, for that matter - about that...

"Oh, I almost forgot," Janine said suddenly. "Grant was in yesterday, looking for you."

"You mean Mr. Fellowes?" Ali asked, focusing her attention on her dusting. Grant Fellowes - and his interest in her - was not a subject she wanted to discuss at the moment. Especially not after the names she'd just heard on the news.

Her eyes went to her left hand, where her wedding band had been. Had been... until Boone had taken it, as proof that she was dead.

"Ali!" Janine's voice interrupted her brooding thoughts. "I know he's told you to call him 'Grant'. I've heard him say it at least a dozen times. He likes you, you know. And you could stand to make more friends," she continued, sitting down on her stool and leaning back against the wall. "Grant's a nice man."

Ali rolled her eyes. "He's a reporter," she enunciated carefully. "I... don't... like... reporters." All she needed was for Grant Fellowes to get a bit too interested in her, and start digging into Alison McPherson's history...

Before Janine could respond to that, the bell over the door dinged as it opened and a customer walked in.

Ali tried to return her attention to her dusting, but the news broadcast had dredged up memories; both old, pleasant ones, and the newer, much more painful ones from the past five years.

When she realized that she'd dusted the same bookshelf four times, she gave up. Heading back to the counter, she gave the customer a nod, murmured to Janine that she was going to take a break, and slipped out the back door of the shop.

She'd take a nice long walk around the district; and hopefully, by the time she arrived back at the store, the memories of Ron would be back where they belonged, buried deep.