The 3 agents were making their way back to the ops room at CI5 after a morning observing a known gun runner. After taking numerous photographs and setting up an observation post they had been relieved by Simon James and Paul Cristoll and were now returning to base to file their report. The midday traffic was reasonably light and they were making good time and were chatting about the upcoming visit of the Syrian President which was planned for the end of the month. Security was going to be at it's highest and CI5 were helping liase the arrangements between the British and Syrian Government. Both Curtis and Keel were assigned to be bodyguards to the President whilst on a visit to a Syrian Refugee centre in Brighton.

"You know, it would be easier if we just disguised him" commented Backup as they discussed the safest way of transporting the president from the helicopter to the centre.

Chris laughed. "Yeah, I hear he loves the British Culture. Why don't we dress him up as one of those palace guards with those beaver skins on their head."

Sam sighed patiently "bearskins Chris."

The American smiled - he knew what they were but he loved to wind up the Englishman.

"Bearskins, beaver skins huh. I reckon they'd look better in beaver skins."

"With buckskin jackets instead of red wool" volunteered Backup from the rear seat.

Sam sighed again. "You know, the reason why Britain is Great is because of the traditions. Hell, look at you two colonials. You'd have the Queen in a frilly frock and Prince Phillip in a Stetson."

"Good idea. I'll mention that to them when I next see them." laughed the American " It's about time I was asked around for tea."

"Yanks, what can you do with them" muttered Curtis good naturedly.

Tina leant forward and asked innocently

"Does that mean that we're not going to see the Syrian President in buckskin with a beaver skin hat?" she asked.

"Not while I'm responsible for him" muttered Curtis darkly. Before anyone could reply the shrill ring of a mobile was heard.

"37" snapped Keel lifting the mobile phone to his ear. Beside him Curtis spared a quick glance before turning his concentration back to driving. The American listened for a minute and then asked a question.

"Just a sec, let me punch in the location on the route finder." He juggled the phone and leant forward to activate the sophisticated map maker hidden in the dashboard of the Lexus. "What was that address again?" he listened and then tapped the address into the screen. After a short pause the screen refreshed itself and showed a detailed map of their location. Studying the destination he replied "Ok, I've got it. We'll be there in about 20 minutes. 37 out."

Sam had kept quiet during the phone call and as he pulled up at a red light he glanced down at the screen. It showed a location just North of the British Museum.

"What's happening?" he asked, his eyes scanning the map and processing the quickest route.

The American tucked his mobile away and turned to the dark Englishman.

"That was Spencer. He says that an address in Russell Square could be connected to the Arabian Popular League. Malone has asked us to check it out."

Sam mused "Arabian Popular League. Which band of nutcases are they - there are so many out there now that I lose track."

Backup leaned in from the back seat.

"These are the ones that want a free world subject to full Islamic fundamental law. Nothing new there. Let's check it out boys. There is no way I'm going to wear a yashmak every day."

Both men grinned. They had all been driven to distraction recently by the many and varied threats from the Islamic fundamentalists and each group seemed to be one step more fervent than the previous.

Sam started the car again as the green light showed.

"We'll just have a look. Nothing more." he muttered casting a warning glance to his partner.

Chris grinned. "Sure thing Partner. Wouldn't want to go upsetting the mad Mullahs of Russell Square."

*******

They arrived at the address and parked a little further down the road, giving them a good view of the property. It was a four storey regency townhouse, nicely decorated and sporting a shiny red front door. They watched for a while but saw no activity and then decided to have a walk around. Trying to blend into the background Sam and Tina walked together, looking like a couple and Chris held back, swooping into a back entry. After a cursory look outside the front of the property, Sam and Tina turned into the alleyway at the side of the terrace and met up with Keel at the back.

"Nothing obvious" commented Chris, his eyes scanning the back of the house. "Nice aerial" said Tina, using her expertise in communications. "That's expensive, and look over there - that's a pretty big electrical junction box for this size of property."

They both turned and looked at what she indicated.

"Why would they need a lot of power?" mused Sam

Chris grinned. "Why don't we have a little look."

Sam sighed, the American was forever looking for a little action but in this case he thought that an internal viewing was worth the risk and he nodded in agreement.

"Tina, you stay here and call it in. Me and Chris won't be long."

"Ok, be careful boys" she replied getting her mobile phone out of her pocket.

That's when it all went wrong. From behind them they heard the thud of running feet and turning they saw that several heavily built men were bearing down on them. Reacting instinctively Keel and Curtis thrust Backup behind them and faced their attackers. It was a savage fight with all three agents landing disabling blows but eventually numbers told and one by one the CI5 operatives were subdued. A back door opened and they were dragged semi-conscious into the building.

*******

Jeb Carter stood before them, his hands on his hips. He turned and addressed Tina.

"You fell into my trap perfectly. I want you to do something for me."

"You'd better let us go. You don't know who you're dealing with" she muttered.

Carter laughed. "Oh, but I do Tina. That's why you're here together with your colleagues and friends Chris and Sam."

She felt a cold shiver flow down her spine. That the man knew their names was not a good omen.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"I want you to do a little breaking and entering for me. A rival of mine owns Datatreck, a small computer storage company who specialises in the storage of sensitive information. A disk is stored there with the combination to unlock several Swiss bank accounts. In those bank accounts is £50 million and I want you to get it."

Tina opened her mouth but no words came out. Shaking herself she concentrated on Carter.

"How do you know I can get it?"

"Oh come on Tina. I'm sure you know that storage companies like Datatreck have the latest in computer technology to safeguard their systems. I need an expert computer whiz to bypass their system and someone else to physically get the disk. You come very highly recommended."

"You're crazy" she snapped.

This made Carter give a short laugh. "Yes, maybe I am but I am also a very clever man and I have invested a lot of time and effort in getting you here."

He turned away and looked at the two men at his feet.

"However, I have another problem which I need you to sort out before we can go. My plan only requires a computer operator and a leg-man. We seem to have one leg-man too many. I‘m going to have to kill one of them. Which one do you want it to be. I have a very fast acting poison, I assure you it will be quick and painless."

Her eyes widened in horror at the impossible choice put to her.

Jeb Carter grinned nastily and repeated his question.

"I only need one of them. Which one do you want me to kill?"

Tina gasped as she met the shocked eyes of the two men knelt before her. Sam Curtis and Chris Keel were bound securely, their faces and bodies battered and bruised by the fight to secure them and they were both breathing heavily behind tight gags.

Carter moved to stand behind them holding a filled syringe in his left hand. "Come on Tina. We'll have to be going soon if you're going to get that disk for me before dawn. Who will it be?"

Tina shook her head defiantly and snapped a curt reply.

"No. I won't play your game".

She took a step back and felt the hard body of a man press against her, his hands gripping her upper arms in a bruising hold.

Jeb Carter let out a short laugh and placed his right hand on Curtis‘s shoulder.

"Is it such a hard decision? Is Sam here your favourite? I know that you've known him longer than Chris. Are you lovers?"

Sam swore through the gag and shook the hand from his shoulder angrily. Carter allowed his hand to fall and then placed it on Keel's shoulder.

"Or is Chris your lover?" A smile spread across his face as if a notion had just occurred to him.

"Or maybe they're both your lovers. I‘ve always found three in a bed very satisfying."

Keel struggled with his bonds cursing against the gag.

Tina looked down at her feet, unable to meet the gazes of her two best friends.

The American struggled continually against the bonds but the Englishman knelt calmly, trying to think of a way out of their dire situation.

Tina desperately tried to think of a way to save both men but her options were extremely limited. She was being held securely and she knew that she would not be able to overpower their four heavily built captors.

Carter raised his arm and glanced at his watch.

"Time is ticking away Tina. I need you to make a decision."

A feeling of frustrating helplessness swept through her and she whispered quietly.

"I can't. You know I can't choose. Please don't make me."

She looked up and caught the gaze of both men seeing both trying to install their strength and resolution into her and she knew that both men were willing to sacrifice themselves for the other partner. Deep down, she realised that Carter would not allow any of them to live. Her decision to save one of them now would only delay the inevitable.

"I won't choose" she said, her voice firm and staring directly at Carter, challenging him.

"You must" he replied softly.

"Then I choose myself." She heard both bound men protest at her words but refused to take her eyes from Carter.

He smiled and nodded his head. "Well said Tina. A noble sentiment indeed but I am afraid that Mr Curtis and Mr Keel do not have the necessary expertise for this job so I must decline your offer."

He raised the syringe and his voice hardened.

"Which one Tina. Sam or Chris. I don't mind."

Tina whipped her head back and felt the air expel from her captor's chest. His grip lessened and she twisted, kicking out at his groin as she turned. She heard both Sam and Chris struggle, trying to help her by taking the attention of two of their captors. She cast a glance around the room looking for an escape route and spotted a small window set high into the wall, but then felt a heavy blow take her in her side and she fell gasping in pain. A foot was placed on her heaving chest pinning her down and she saw the angry face of Carter filling her vision.

"I am getting bored of this. Now choose one."

Tina gasped, trying to get her breath back and shook her head defiantly.

"Fuck you" she snarled.

She heard a grunt of approval from the now subdued agents.

Carter snapped his foot up and grasped her around her upper arms pulling her to her feet.

"Enough. Jacobs keep a hold of her whilst I choose."

Tina was pulled again into her previous position, held securely by the brutal Jacobs in front of the kneeling captives.

Carter walked behind them and raised the syringe. Both men's breathing quieted and their eyes met.

"I can't lose Chris. Not like this" thought Sam "Please, let it be me"

"Not Sam. Make it me." thought Chris, unable to tear his gaze away from his partner and lover.

Carter stepped back and studied the two men. It made no difference who got the injection - his game had only just begun. The room had gone deathly quiet and he felt the girl's eyes on him, her hatred pouring out. Lifting his head to look at her he smiled slowly and dropped the syringe to the back of the American's neck.

She leapt forward but was held firmly.

Chris stared into his partner's eyes, wincing as the needle entered his flesh. Sam tried to struggle but couldn't move and the last thing Chris saw before his eyes slid shut was the desperate and inconsolable gaze of his lover. He couldn't even say goodbye.

Sam shut his eyes in anguish as he heard Tina scream out a denial as Chris‘s body slumped backwards bonelessly.

Carter smiled quietly at the successful fruition of his plan and allowed himself to bask in the achievement for a few moments.

He nodded to Jacobs who let Tina go and she fell to her knees beside the prone body of the American.

"Chris" she sobbed, automatically pressing her fingers to his throat trying to find the pulse. She turned a stricken face to Sam who looked at her with desperate hope in his eyes. That was washed away by the small shake of her head and he bowed his head in grief.

Carter stood back and watched the scene being played out in front of him. The close bond of all 3 agents was clear to see and that was what he was relying on. Clearing his throat he addressed Sam and Tina.

"I'll leave you to say your goodbyes in private. I'll be back in 30 minutes and then you are going to get me that disk from Datatreck."

Both Agents ignored him, both enveloped in their grief.

Tina held Chris tenderly, sobbing into his hair as Sam managed to shuffle round to sit by his side. She raised her face and stared into the green eyes, shiny with tears. Reaching up, she removed the gag and embraced him, both crying bitter tears.

Slowly but surely Tina felt her tears dry and her professional training began to take over. There would be time for grief after they had managed to get out of there. Slowly she pulled herself away from Sam and wiped the tears from her cheeks. The Englishman slowly rocked himself, crying softly Chris's name over and over.

She gripped his arms and stopped him.

"Sam, look at me." she said firmly.

Sam reluctantly raised his gaze to her face.

"We need to get out of here. I think we can squeeze through that window."

"I can‘t leave Chris."

"You know they'll kill us as soon as they get the disk. Don't let Chris's death be in vain Sam."

He looked at her blankly and she winced at the hopelessness in his eyes.

"Please Sam. Work with me, I can't do this on my own."

Sam met her steely gaze and saw the same devastation in her eyes.

"You're right" he muttered. "Help me get these ropes off."

Tina struggled but eventually managed to loosen the knots enough that Sam could wriggle out of the bonds. Stepping to the door she dropped her head to try and hear anything. All was quiet and she glanced back at Sam who was now free. She saw him kneel by Chris's dead body and lay a gentle kiss on his lips.

"I'll be back for you and I promise that I will avenge your death. Goodnight my love."

He brushed away the tears and steeled himself before rising to his feet. Glancing up he saw that the window would be a tight squeeze but was sure that they would both be able to escape through it.

He cupped his hands and boosted Tina up and she fiddled with the latch. She thought it would be rusted but it was well oiled and she was mildly surprised when it immediately came loose in her hand. Slowly she opened the window and peered out. Relieved to see a large industrial waste bin that was situated just under the window she judged the drop to only be about 3 feet. Seeing the coast was clear she squirmed through and dropped lightly down and waited for Sam.

Sam cast a last glance at Chris's body and with a hollow feeling inside he pulled himself up and through the window. Dropping down the other side he jumped into the waiting embrace of Tina.

"Come on" he urged, not looking back. "The sooner we get help, the sooner I can get that murdering bastard."

Carter grinned and clapped his hands in delight as he saw the two agents move off down the alley. His plan had worked perfectly. This little scene was necessary to make sure that both surviving agents believed that the unlucky CI5 agent was dead. The syringe held a potent paralysing drug that mimicked death. It lowered the victim's heart rate and pulse to a barely disceptible level and paralysed the breathing to such an extent that the victim appeared to be lifeless. However, the drug wore off after a few hours and the corpse would ‘rise from the dead'. Carter let a small laugh pass his lips as he anticipated the pain that the resurrection wrought on it's victim as atrophied muscles cramped back to life. It would not be a pleasant experience. And then, when the Agent had revived, Carter would have a captive CI5 Agent from who he could obtain information on all sorts of things. His knowledge would be unique and he could be tortured without hope of rescue as no-one would be looking for him. He smiled grimly. Captain Christopher Keel would get a nice memorial service but his body would never be found.

Indicating to Jacobs and Jackson to collect the unconscious agent he began to remove all traces of ever having been at that location.

When Sam, Tina and the rest of the CI5 operations squad arrived back at the address half an hour later there was no sign of occupation. Carter and his men had disappeared and had taken Chris Keel's body with them.

*******

Tina glanced at the tall Englishman in concern. She was worried, very worried about Sam. Since his partner's death he had been existing as if on an automatic pilot, a mere shell of the warm caring man she knew. It was as if he had bottled all his emotions and banished them to a place deep within himself. The only sign of grief that she had seen was the tears they had both shed in that dark cellar room a week ago.

They had tried so hard to find out who killed the American and she knew that Sam had barely slept since his murder but they had been frustrated at every turn. The situation grew more desperate as each promising lead fizzled out and she knew that soon Curtis would crack. She wanted to be there when he did. She loved Sam and had done for a long time but when he and Chris told her of their relationship she had resigned herself to one of friendship. In fact, although it hurt at first she had soon come to realise that Sam was happy for the first time in his life and that Chris's love for him was the best thing that could have happened to the repressed Englishman. She had consoled herself with the fact that in their dark world their love was a brightness that shone strongly.

Now she was driving Sam home from the American's memorial service. It had been well attended but the many eulogies offered had only brought home the devastating loss to Sam. Of course, only her and Malone knew of the depth of their relationship and although both had tried to console and comfort the Englishman she knew that their words washed over him.

Sam sat in silence, his thoughts closed. He had found the memorial service so hard, the well meaning gestures of consolation and the kind words of colleagues. He had been to many memorial services over the years and he wondered whether he had uttered the same empty words.

He felt hollow inside, a great empty space taking up the whole of the inside of his body - a place where his heart used to be. He knew that a brutal death was a daily possibility in their line of work but they had talked about it only once when they had first became lovers. Chris in his usual practical carefree way had told him that there was no point worrying. "What will be will be" he had muttered "and if it's time for me to go then I've got no control over it. We have to live for today and make every second count of what life fate allows us".

The worse part of his loss was that he hadn't had a chance to say goodbye. Merely a last desperate look which passed between them as he had seen the life ebb out of the American and with no body to bury there was no grave for him to visit.

He saw Tina glance at him again out of the corner of his eye. She had been a true friend over the last week - a friend who he didn't deserve. He had pushed her away even though he knew that she was feeling the same way about Chris's death but she had stayed close to him. Even when he lashed out at her verbally when each lead came to nothing. Now, he was eternally grateful that she was still there and that she had sat beside him at the memorial service holding his hand.

He felt the exhaustion wash over him and he leaned back into the seat. He had hardly slept and when he had closed his eyes the vision of the needle slipping into Chris's neck haunted his dreams.

"Sam" she murmured and shook his arm gently. He opened his eyes surprised to see that they were in front of his flat. He glanced over and met her steady gaze.

"Thanks for the lift Backup" he mumbled, unclasping his seatbelt. "And thank you for today - I …."

Suddenly his throat dried as he felt a well of emotion flood through him.

Tina saw his struggle and decided to take control of the situation.

Gently she clasped his hand. "Come on Sam. You need a drink".

Nodding numbly he got out of the car and walked over to the flat entrance followed closely by Tina.

Once inside Tina kicked the door shut and wrapped her arms around the shaking Englishman. "Let it out Sam, there's no point in bottling everything up."

The flood of his emotions burst into hot bitter tears and he broke down, his raw grief pouring from him. She held him tightly, murmuring softly and rubbing his back. "I'm here Sam" she whispered over and over.

She was not surprised at his break-down. He had held it in so long that she knew that when the crisis came he would want to be with a friend.

He clung to her as if his life depended on it accepting without question her comfort until eventually he could cry no more and he calmed to a breathless silence.

Feeling him calm down she stepped away from him and steered him towards the couch. She knew Sam was exhausted and as he sat back against the soft cushions she saw his eyes close. Soon he was asleep and she lay a soft kiss on his lips before taking a throw from the back of the couch and covering him with it.

Going into the kitchen she poured herself a strong brandy and sat perched on the corner of the couch gazing down at the sleeping man.

Her eyes pricked with tears as she saw him moaning in his sleep and a soft "Chris" pass his lips.

Sam woke about 3 hours later, still exhausted but the sharp edge had been taken off his tiredness. He raised his head and met the soft gaze of Tina who had been reading a magazine. He glanced at it and saw that it was one of Chris's motorcycle magazines. A pang of pain leapt into his heart.

"I didn't know you were into motorbikes" he said, slowly sitting up and swinging his legs around.

She smiled at him gently. " I couldn't find your ‘Hello'. You slept for a while."

He grimaced, easing a kink of his back. "I guess I needed it after that show I put on."

She frowned and leaned forward placing her hands on his knees. She looked directly at him.

"You never need to be afraid to show your emotions with me Sam. You've lost a very special man and you need to grieve for him. I'm honoured that you felt secure enough to let your defences down with me."

Their eyes locked and he managed a small grateful smile.

"Thanks Tina, for everything and for being a special friend"

She gave him a dazzling smile and climbed to her feet.

"When did you last eat?" she asked

Sam had absolutely no idea and told her so.

"Ok then, I've had a look in your freezer and I guess I can rustle up a couple of omelettes if you can prepare a salad. Then when you've eaten that we'll crack open a bottle of wine."

She saw the frown that passed over his face

"You need to talk about it Sam. We'll get drunk and we'll talk about Chris, we'll remember the good times and how lucky we both are that we've shared the gift of his friendship."

"I'm not sure about this Tina" he said uncertainly.

"I know Sam but you trust me don't you"

"Yes?"

"Then trust me to say that you need to talk about it."

He felt a shiver go down his spine and it was her turn to frown.

"That was what I said the night that Chris and I became lovers" he said quietly feeling the pang of the sweet memory.

She hugged him and whispered

"Then you know I'm right then"

He pulled back and shook his head ruefully. "Sometimes, I'm too clever for my own good. Thank you Tina. Food and wine sounds good. Let's get plastered and give Chris a good send off."

*******

His world was a shroud of pain, the blows striking his sore flesh, the burning sting of the needles, the incessant questions. How long had his world revolved round a 6 foot bubble of darkness. How long had it been since he had first woken to agonizing pain causing his body to jerk uncontrollably. How long had it been since he had died. He was in hell, he was certain of that, this was definitely not heaven and in a small corner of his mind he was disappointed. Hadn't he done enough to warrant a place in heaven? Hell, he had done a lot of bad things in his life but surely he had done more good things and saved a lot of lives over the years.

He heard the door open again and he waited for the questions to begin again. They would ask him the same questions over and over, beating him continually until his cries became weak. Then there would be the sting of the needle and the comfort of oblivion. He tried to move but the chain around his sore neck pulled him back and the continual throb of bruised muscles, cuts and contusions made him cry out.

Jeb Carter smiled down coldly at the shivering Agent. "Not so high and mighty CI5 Agent are you now Mr Keel."

His words washed over the confused mind of the chained man.

Leaning down Carter inspected the damage of his previous visit. Bloody bruises covered his captives ribs and stomach and the needle tracks on his arms stood out redly against the pallor of his skin. It had been hard to break down the Agent, his training was excellent and he had resisted with all his energy for the first few days but now he knew that he was near to breaking point. Now was the time to boost the dosage of the truth serums and press for information on the Syrian Presidents visit. He was being paid very highly by the Presidents enemies but as the time of the visit neared they had become more impatient.

"Chris, time for another little talk" he sang softly and saw the man draw away in fear.

"No more" he mumbled, his tongue thick in his mouth.

"You sound like you need a drink. If you want some water, you're going to have to answer me a question."

Chris desperately wanted a drink. They had only let him have a couple of glasses a day and some plain biscuits. He was hungry and thirsty and his energy level was dangerously low. He had wondered vacantly at the beginning why he was thirsty and hungry when he was dead but his mind had dismissed the fact in a haze of pain.

Carter pulled a water bottle from his belt and held it up in front of the chained man.

"Just one question and you can have a drink" he said softly.

The American knew that he should refuse but he was so thirsty that his resolve crumbled.

"Just one question?" he asked quietly not meeting his captors eyes.

Carter smiled to himself. Yes, this man was ready to break.

"That's right Chris, just one question and then I'll give you a drink."

Defeated, Chris reached up for the bottle with unsteady fingers but it was snatched away.

"Answer first, drink after"

Chris groaned but turned his head up to look at his captor.

"How are you going to transfer the president from London to Brighton?"

Keel licked his dry lips and gazed up at the water bottle held slightly out of his reach.

"Helicopter" he whispered

Carter grinned in triumph and gloated "There, that wasn't so hard was it."

He leaned down and put the bottle to Keel's lips and poured a little into his mouth. Chris gulped the liquid down greedily but the bottle was snatched away again. Groaning in frustration he glared up at his smiling captor.

"And how are you going to transfer him to the Refugee centre?"

Chris's thirst had not been slaked and he stared up in anger as Carter shook the bottle enticingly. He knew that he had to answer the question before he would get another mouthful.

And so it went on until he had finished the whole bottle. Carter turned around and picked up the syringe bringing it towards his prisoner. Chris winced as he felt his sore arm pulled forward but welcomed the sting of the needle as it brought oblivion. "Sorry Sam" he thought, his mind already muddying. "I've let you down".

He heard Carter leave the room and retreated to his 6 foot cocoon of solitude.

Jacobs looked up from the sophisticated recording equipment as Carter entered the room which lay next door to Chris's cell.

"Buckskin coat and beaver skin hat?" he queried with a grin on his face.

Carter grinned back.

"You think it's for real?" he asked.

Jacobs considered the question and answered honestly. "We've worked him over for nearly a week now. His resistance is low and with the amount of drugs in his system I ‘d be surprised if he has the ability to lie."

Carter shrugged and took the tape out of the recorder.

"We're only here to get information. It's up to our clients to sort out the truth from the nonsense. I'll deliver this and see you later."

He motioned to the prone prisoner who they could see through the two way mirror.

"give him some broth when he wakes up. I'm sure Mr Keel will start proving very profitable now he has had the sense to co-operate."

Jacobs nodded his acquiescence and watched as his friend left the room.

******

They talked for hours, sharing a bottle of wine then moving on to the Brandy. They laughed and they cried in equal shares, remembering both the good times and bad. Sam knew that he would be eternally grateful to Tina for being there for him at such a vulnerable time. Eventually, both due to the amount of alcohol and tiredness flooding through their systems they lapsed into an easy silence.

Sam looked down and felt Tina snuggle into his side, her eyes closing and he ran his fingers gently through her hair.

"Time for bed" he whispered

"Hmm. Can you ring for a taxi?"

Smiling drunkenly he sat up and wrapped his arms around her.

"You can sleep in the spare bedroom tonight. I don't think either of us are in a condition to attempt the stairs."

She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"Ok" she agreed readily.

Before she went into the bedroom Sam touched her on the shoulder and swung her around for a big hug. "Thanks Tina, for tonight. You were right it does help to talk"

"Smart guy" she commented and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Night Sam, see you in the morning".

Stumbling a little he made his way to his bedroom and after using the bathroom flopped down on the bed. He hoped that the amount of alcohol flooding his system would mean that he would get a few hours of rest and he lay back and closed his eyes.

A few hours later he woke up with a scream, a sob escaping from his throat as the tortured images of his dreams ran through his mind.

Sitting up in bed he shakily reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and took a swig.

Alerted by a soft noise by the door he swung his gaze round and saw Tina standing there, dressed in one of his shirts. Her hair was mussed up and he saw her dark eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" he mumbled putting the glass back on the table.

She walked over and sat beside him on the bed.

"Was it a nightmare?" she asked him gently.

Sam nodded and stared at his hands.

"I see him in my dreams Tina. He's alone in the dark and frightened. He's calling out for me but I'm not there."

Tina pulled his chin up and made him look into her face.

"It's going to take time Sam. Chris was taken from you, from us, in such a way that we've not had time to say goodbye. It'll get better, I promise but you're not alone and I'll help you in any way I can."

Sam mumbled another thanks which made her cast a stern look at him

"And if you ever say thanks again for doing what any good friend would do then I'll have to shoot you."

She revelled in the slow smile that creased his face and she found herself unable to resist running her fingers through his dark hair. Oh God, this man needed comfort and she so desperately wanted to give it to him.

Sam turned his head into her hand and their eyes met and she saw the glimmer of desire flash through them. Not thinking, he leaned up and kissed her.

"Sam" she whispered as she pulled away slightly "we both know where we're going don't we."

Sam nodded and replied softly "I want this Tina, and so do you. I don't want to be alone tonight"

Tina felt her reservations fly away and she leaned down and kissed him again. This time the kiss became more passionate and he ran his fingers through her dark hair as he drew her onto the bed with him.

They revelled in the sensation of touching and caressing, taking their time, taking as much pleasure out of giving as out of taking. Sam was a passionate and generous lover and knew how to make sure that a woman shared in the pleasure. Twice he brought her to orgasm before he entered and began to gently make love to her. Their actions became more urgent and he began to move deeply within her, causing her to scream in ecstasy as he brought her easily to a third orgasm. Her clenching muscles forced him over the edge and he felt himself come deep within her.

Pulling apart they lay on their backs, still touching until their breaths evened out.

"Thanks Tina" murmured Sam, kissing her lightly and laughing as she thumped him.

"We both needed that" she said "and it was good. Chris was a lucky guy"

"Yeah, only the best for the best" sighed the dark Englishman.

"No guilt Sam We both wanted that didn‘t we?"

He looked at her and nodded his head. "No guilt Tina. Chris is dead. I needed to make sure that I was still alive."

"Take your time to grieve Sam." She looked down at him and saw that his eyes were closed.

"Sweet dreams my love" she whispered as she closed her own eyes "and wherever you are Chris, I hope you know what a special man you were"

*******

Malone looked up from his paperwork as there was a knock on his door.

"Come in Mr Spencer".

Spencer came in and deposited a report on his desk which Malone picked up and scanned.

"This is the information picked up by an informant on the Meglemi staff. A lot of background stuff, nothing that appears to be directly associated with the Syrian visit. The only thing he picked up on was that apparently, there's a joke going round that we're going to disguise the Syrian President in a buckskin jacket and a beaver skin hat."

Malone raised his eyebrows in question. "I hope that isn't true Mr Spencer".

The dark skinned man shook his head. "I can't see us getting the president to do that. "

Malone grimaced. "Wherever do these rumours start." he glanced quickly at the document again and sensed Spencer hesitate. He looked up.

"Another problem Mr Spencer?"

He saw the other man nod. "Something strange actually, James and Cristoll have just rang in from that observation on the gun runners in Hackney. Apparently, they've just abandoned the warehouse and packed everything away."

"Damn, that's a waste of time. Did they get anything useful."

"No Sir, that's the puzzling thing. Our information was quite specific that they were expecting a shipment but today they've just packed up."

Malone sighed. " It happens."

"That's what I thought but I was reviewing the photographs and I swear that one of the gunrunners looked directly at our obs post and waved to our men."

Malone looked up in surprise.

"You mean our operation was compromised."

"It seems so Sir. Both James and Cristoll are adamant that they were not seen."

Malone turned the matter over in his mind but then sighed.

"Its probably just a co-incidence. Our priority at the moment is the Presidents visit. Tell James and Cristoll to have their reports on my desk by tomorrow. Oh, when you see Mr Curtis and Miss Backus please tell them I need to see them."

Spencer nodded and left the office, spotting Curtis and Backup walking in.

Both looked tired but he saw that Sam was looking more human. Walking up to them he smiled in greeting. "Morning you two, Malone wants to see you in his office."

Nodding his acknowledgement Sam turned to Tina.

"I hope this isn't bad news. I can't take any more."

"Have faith Sam. Come on let's get it over with."

Malone looked up again as the two agents knocked and entered the office.

He indicated for them to sit down and sat back and studied them both.

The Englishman was looking tired but seemed to have lost the robotic movements of the last few days. The Canadian looked tired and he knew that he had been right to allow Tina to take Sam home the previous day.

He cleared his throat as both Agents looked at him expectantly.

"Miss Baccus, obviously with the sad loss of Mr Keel I need a temporary partner for Mr Curtis whilst the president is in town."

Sam looked up in surprise. He hadn't even thought about a new partner and felt outraged that Keel could be replaced so quickly.

Seeing the strained look on Sam's face he continued.

"I understand that it will be very hard to replace Mr Keel but this visit is driving us all mad and we need to get it over and done with before we can review staffing arrangements. You do understand that Mr Curtis don't you?"

Sam swallowed his irritation. "Yes Sir". he snapped

Tina tried to break the icy atmosphere.

"If I'm going to be your partner does that mean we go with my idea of Buckskin and Beaver skin."

Sam looked up at the harsh intake of breath from Malone.

He was looking at Tina in concern.

"Tell me again."

"What Sir?"

"Buckskin and …."

"Beaver skin" answered Sam. "It was a joke between the three of us. Keel and Backup suggested it was a good way to disguise the president when he left the helicopter."

He looked at the Irishman in confusion.

"Mr Curtis, Miss Baccus, think very carefully. Did you discuss this with anyone?" Both Agents looked at each other.

"No" answered Tina hearing a corresponding denial from the dark Englishman. "It was just something we joked about in the car. I forgot all about it until now."

"What's the problem Sir?" asked Curtis now getting very concerned.

Malone handed over the file which Spencer had just brought in.

"This is the latest information from an informer close to the Syrian Government. Apparently, your plan has been broadcast."

Sam and Tina shared a look of confusion. "But Sir, we haven't discussed anything outside the car and it was a throwaway comment at that."

Malone picked up the telephone and called down to Paul Cooper in the security department.

"Paul, I need you to check Curtis's car for bugs. I want a full in depth sweep."

After hearing an affirmation that the job would be started immediately he turned his attention back to the two bemused Agents.

"I'm taking you both off the job. You're both confined to the office until I get to the bottom of this mystery."

"Sir" protested Curtis hotly. "You surely don't think that me or Tina are selling information to the Syrians."

"Of course not" snapped Malone. "Of all my Agents I would say that I trust you two the most. But the fact is that information discussed by you two has found its way to an Arab source and that may have compromised your operation. I want you both to stay in the office until we get your car checked out."

" We understand Sir" mumbled Curtis getting to his feet.

They both walked out in a daze and moved to the coffee machine for a bit of privacy.

"Sam, I know Malone trusts us. He just has to be seen to be doing the right thing."

"I know" he said quietly. "It's just so confusing. How the hell did someone plant a bug in my car. It must be pretty sophisticated to pick up that conversation."

He saw Simon James come into the office and spotting them he walked over.

"Hi, Sam, Tina. Just thought I'd let you know that our gun runners op is a bust. They high tailed it out of the warehouse this morning."

"Damn" muttered Sam. They had spent several weeks on the case and now it seemed that they had walked away with nothing.

"Yeah, my sentiments exactly. I'd love to know how they found out about us though. Me and Paul were really careful but when they left they looked directly at us and waved. Look I know how much work you and Chris put into the case. I‘m sorry it all went wrong."

"It happens" muttered Curtis shaking Simon's hand. "They'll come unstuck again."

"Yeah, I hope so."

He moved away and Tina looked after him.

"What else can go wrong" she muttered under her breath.

An hour later they were sat back in Malone's office along with the security officer Paul Cooper.

Cooper spoke up. "We've gone through the car with a fine tooth comb. There are no bugs in there. "

"Are you quite sure" asked Malone surprised. He had convinced himself that one would be found because he did not want to consider the other proposition - that one of his two top Agents was selling secrets.

"Harry, I can assure you that we have checked everything. We took the car apart." he turned to Curtis. "Don't worry, we'll put it all back together for you so you won't know we've been there."

Malone sighed and thanked Cooper. "Thank you Paul. " and dismissed him.

Turning back to his two silent Agents he steeled himself for a very uncomfortable conversation.

"If the car wasn't bugged can either of you explain to me how I've got a report on my desk from a Syrian informer?

Curtis's eyes flashed in anger.

"If you're accusing either of us of selling out you've got it completely wrong." he said coldly.

Malone leant back in his chair and studied the angry man.

"How else can I see it Mr Curtis. The information was shared between three people - one of whom is no longer with us."

Sam turned away in anger but felt a small hand on his arm restraining him.

"Everyone calm down. There has got to be an explanation. Getting upset is not going to help anyone."

Both men glared at her but bit their retorts back.

Tina dreaded to say what had just occurred to her but she forced it out.

"Sam. I know that I didn't tell anyone and I am certain that you didn't. That only leaves one option."

"He's dead Backup" snapped Curtis turning his angry gaze on her.

"Are you sure?" she whispered.

"What? You were there dammit Tina. You couldn't find a pulse. He wasn't breathing."

"There are drugs that can suppress the functions. I know I didn't feel a pulse but that doesn't mean to say that he wasn't under the influence of a drug. Come to think of it our escape was pretty easy."

Tina stopped and watched as the blood drained from the Englishman's face as her words hit home. She saw the full range of emotions pass across his expression from disbelief to a spark of desperate hope.

"Oh God, Tina, we left him there."

"We don't know anything for certain" warned Malone, his mind turning over the new facts. It was a very viable preposition.

Tina continued. "James and Cristoll's observation was compromised. Chris would have had that information."

"He's alive, he's got to be and the bastards are torturing him."

Malone stepped in. "Don't get carried away Mr Curtis. There's no-one more hopeful than me that he is still alive but we need to get some kind of proof."

"He's alive sir, I've felt it all along but I didn't want to believe it. we've got to find him."

"How?" the question was short and to the point.

Curtis thought quickly. "Set up the helicopter to land with someone dressed in the appropriate clothing. Surround the area and pick up the hit man. If Chris is alive then they'll know the precise timing and maybe if we can get the hit man we can track it back."

Malone mused for a few moments and then stood up.

"Do it Mr Curtis, Miss Baccus and if Mr Keel is still alive I want you to get him out in one piece. Who knows what kind of damage the information he holds can do."

Curtis looked coldly at his boss, anger at his callous statement colouring his face but he saw only compassion.

"In one piece Mr Curtis." he added before shaking his hand.

*******

Jacobs leant down and shook the shoulder of the sleeping man. He wrinkled his nose at the stench of several days blood and waste and took a small step back to breathe in some fresh air. Keel lay in a corner, his arms and legs brought in tightly to his body as if trying to protect himself from further damage. Jacobs studied him coldly. The chain around the American's neck was rusty with his blood, the Agent having rubbed his skin raw in his agony. His naked body was filthy with grime, blood and other bodily fluids. Raw bruises stood out against the pale skin and Jacobs felt a twinge of sympathy as he remembered the pitiful cries the blows had produced. Both arms were badly marked with the tracks of the needles which had held the drugs that had wreaked much damage on his already weakened mind.

The last couple of days had been very satisfactory, the level of drugs in his system keeping the agent quiet and compliant. They had not needed to hurt him since he had conceded defeat and begun to answer all their questions. Now, they had decided to lower the dosage, confident that the more aware that Keel became, the more detail they could glean from him.

They had decided to let him sleep for several hours, a luxury he had not been allowed for the 9 days they had kept him prisoner in this small cellar.

He shook his shoulder again and was rewarded by a low groan and a shifting of his prisoners legs.

"Wake up Keel" he called loudly, giving him a swift kick in the ankles.

Chris flinched and pulled his legs up, crying out in pain as his bruised ribs pulled. Jacobs allowed him to come awake on his own time and was soon satisfied to see two dull blue eyes crack open. Leaning down so Chris could see him he smiled and called softly.

"Time to wake up Chris. I've got something for you to eat and then I've got a surprise for you."

He laughed at the tortured moan that was let out in response to his words and he grabbed at the chain and pulled him up to a sitting position. Chris cried out as his sore neck was pulled but managed to sit himself upright and relieve the pressure. He warily looked up at his captor, his mind clearer than it had been in days.

Jacobs pushed the bowl of broth towards him and indicated for him to eat. The American looked at it and then looked up towards his captor.

Jacobs smiled. "It's alright. There are no questions to answer today. Consider it a day of rest. Eat that and I'm sure you'll feel better. I know you're hungry. And after you've eaten I'm going to let you have a shower. God knows - you need it."

Chris opened his mouth but found no words came from his dry throat.

Jacobs smiled again and answered the unspoken question.

"Why? Because you've been a very good boy and your information regarding the Syrian visit has been very helpful. "

The American closed his eyes and groaned. The last few days had been a haze of pain, hunger and thirst. The drugs they had injected him with had made him forget who he was, why he was here and their questions had been incessant. He couldn't know how much he had told them but he knew for certain that he had told them something. Why would they reward him if he had not given them all the information they required. He cursed his weakness and began to yearn for the needle so that he could slip once again into oblivion.

Jacobs was talking again and he turned his attention back to him.

"Eat it whilst it's hot. I'll be back soon to take you to the shower."

Becoming more awake, he became aware of the nagging hunger and he grasped the bowl in front of him. His bruised fingers struggled with the spoon so he tipped up the edge and drank it slowly. It was warm and slid down his sore throat easily. Soon finished, he turned his attention to the mug of milk that lay on the tray and sipped it slowly, trying to savour the taste for as long as possible. Finally finished he sat back and began to evaluate his condition.

His mind was still foggy but was definitely clearer than it had been for days. His body ached and he knew without looking that his abdomen and stomach were heavily bruised. He vaguely remembered the blows but that seemed to be in another lifetime. His fingers were stiff and his knee was swollen badly and he feared that he would not be able to put any weight on it. He glanced down at his arms and saw the red marks of the needle tracks. Some of them were already ulcerated. He felt hot and knew that he had a fever. He gently raised his sore arms to his neck and felt the collar and chain. It was secured with a small padlock and the chain was fixed to the wall behind him. He knew that there was no chance of him escaping from the chain even if he was 100% fit.

Somewhere along the line he had realised that he was not dead. Hell it may be but it was of man's making not the devil. His rapidly unclouding mind began turning and he remembered what had happened in Russell Square. Oh God, did Sam think that he was dead? He realised that he must, and Tina as well. He had thought he was dead himself for most of the last ….. He hesitated. He didn't know how long he had been here. Was it hours, or days, or even weeks? Was Sam grieving for him now? Were Sam and Tina still alive or had Carter killed them after getting what he wanted. With a desperate cry he dropped his head into his hands. For him to suffer alone was a lot to cope with but for his lover and friend to suffer such anguish was too much and he sobbed tears of despair at the hopelessness of his situation.

"I'm here Sam. I'm alive. I hope you are." he cried softly, his tears running down his cheeks as he realised that for the first time in his life he was truly alone. All the people he knew and loved thought he was dead and he had no chance of rescue. His captors could keep torturing him for ever and no-one would ever know what was happening.

He jumped as he heard the door open and footsteps approach. Looking up through tear blurred eyes he saw the man they called Jacobs looking down at him.

"I see you've just realised the hopelessness of your situation Mr Keel. I knew it was a good idea to wean you off the drugs. "

"Kill me, please just let me die." he whispered, meeting his captors gaze.

The tall man smiled coldly. "No, Mr Keel. We have more uses for you. You may not realise it but the information locked in your brain can be quite profitable. In fact, a local gun runner was very generous when we told him that CI5 had an observation post close to their delivery warehouse."

Chris closed his eyes, he knew exactly who they were talking about. Again he cursed his weakness.

Jacobs saw the expression on the sitting man and knelt down so he was on the same level.

"Don't blame yourself too much Chris. The drugs that you've had running through your system for the last 8 days will have made resisting our questions very hard even for the best trained agent. Now " he tilted Chris's head up and looked directly into his face "if you continue to answer our questions we will make sure that you are treated fairly. We'll make sure you're clean, warm, well fed and generally looked after. However, if you don't co-operate we will have to bring the drugs out again. I don't need to tell you that the longer you're on them the worse the damage to your body will be. What will it be Chris. All your friends think you're dead. You know that no-one will even be looking for you." He began to gently rub his thumb against the American's stubbly jaw.

Chris found himself unable to answer, this compassion after the brutality of the last few days was very disconcerting and he found himself craving he comfort. Without thinking, he leaned into the caress and began to imagine it was Sam's fingers gently stroking his cheek.

Jacobs smiled and got to his feet grasping his hands around his captives upper arms. "Come on Chris. Let's get you showered and in some clean clothes, then I'll dress your wounds."

Chris compliantly rose to his feet. The level of drugs in his system was still relatively high and he knew in the back of his mind that he should be fighting but he was so tired and he wanted so much to be out of this dark place that he allowed himself to be manoeuvred. He felt the collar and chain being removed from his neck before a door was opened and another man stepped into the room. He winced as he put pressure on his injured knee and would have collapsed if Jacobs hadn't clutched him around the waist. Slowly, he limped towards the open door walking past the grim face of Jeb Carter, his other torturer. Keeping his head down and concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other he shuffled towards the door and saw that he was in a small corridor. A door opposite was open and revealed a bathroom with a shower cubicle. He was already naked and Jacobs gently manoeuvred him into the shower cubicle, leaning him against the wall.

"You'll enjoy this" he whispered before leaning across and turning on the water. Chris revelled in the warm spray as it massaged his body. Turning slowly in the steady stream he felt Jacobs sponging all the caked on blood and filth from his ravaged body. Crying out at a particularly sore spot he stumbled but was deftly caught around the waist and supported. Gratefully, he leaned into him.

Jeb Carter stood back and watched as Jacobs washed the injured agent. This was part of the plan, first the pain, now the comfort. Once the drugs cleared his system, he wanted the American to look towards Jacobs as his friend. He knew that Jacobs would have no problems with establishing a relationship with the prisoner. He was well trained and had proved himself highly in many of the worlds troubled dictatorships.

Finally finished, Jacobs helped Chris out of the shower and dried him gently, avoiding causing too much discomfort to the bruised man. Then he led him into another room which proved to be a bedroom and sat him on the bed. Reaching behind him he pulled a pair of jogging pants from the corner and indicated for the American to lie back. Chris did as he was asked and lay back relishing the soft mattress after sleeping for a week on a cold floor. He felt Jacobs hands on him, pressing against his bruised abdomen and ribs and he winced at the pressure.

Murmuring a soft apology the dark man gently moved his hands down and examined the swollen knee. Chris cried out as he felt it moved.

"Sorry Chris" he murmured before turning his attention to his arms.

He rubbed some lotion into his hands and began to gently massage the cream into the bruises and Chris couldn't help gasping as he felt the tension release.

"You know Chris. It could be like this every day. We need to be friends Chris. I'm the only one you have left. Everyone else believes you're dead. You need me."

Chris felt his eyes closing and he let the low voice wash over him and, partly due to the drugs still in his system, and his desperate need for comfort, he found himself believing the words.

Finally, seeing that his captive was sleeping Jacobs stood up and quickly pulled the pants onto the prone agent.

"Sleep well Chris. I'll see you in the morning." he whispered, dropping a kiss onto his lips before leaving.

"Sam" whispered the American in his sleep.

*******

The preparations were going well. The resources of CI5 were exceptional and all had been utilised to set up the trap. Although not entirely convinced that Keel was alive Malone knew that if there was the slightest possibility that the Agent had not been murdered then he would move heaven and earth to find him. Not only because of the information that Keel held in his head but also because he was one of his men, a man who he admired for his tenacity and drive. He would never admit it to any of his Agents but he considered them all his sheep and he would do his utmost to try and keep the flock together.

He watched as the dark Englishman and the petite Canadian worked with a fervour, their hopelessness of the last week wiped away. He did not want to consider what the consequences would be on both of his top agents if they found out that Keel had been murdered in that cellar.

He looked up at a knock on his office door and saw that Curtis was stood there. He waved him in and looked at him expectantly.

"All set?" he asked.

Curtis nodded and began to set out the plan. "We've got the place surrounded. We've scouted out the most likely places for a sniper and got them under observation. The local Police are putting a cordon around the area and the local press has been tipped off that the President will be landing in the area. " He looked down at his hands.

"I only hope it's enough. It's the only chance we have of getting to Chris."

Malone nodded in agreement. "Good work. What time is the chopper due to land."

Curtis looked at his watch. "11.30am. Myself and Backup will be on board and the stand-in will be suitably kitted out."

"Buckskin and beaver skin" muttered Malone. "Where did that come from?" Curtis smiled weakly. "You don't want to know Sir."

Malone could only agree. "Good. Get yourselves ready - I've a feeling it's going to be a long day."

Curtis nodded and left the office.

Backup smiled wanly at the tall Arab sat before her. He was dressed in the buckskin jacket and was holding the beaver skin hat on his lap. Underneath his unbuttoned jacket he wore a Kevlar vest to guard against the possibility that the sniper would not be picked up before he could get a shot off.

"Do not worry Miss Baccus, I am quite used to being in the Presidents place. My job is well paid." he said.

Tina nodded and glanced at her companion. Curtis was talking with the pilot and she saw the tension in his stance. She knew that he was pinning his hopes on Keels death being a ruse and she was frightened of his reaction if they found out that her theory was wrong. It would be like losing his partner again and she prayed that the American was still alive.

Nodding to the pilot he turned and called "10 minutes from the landing zone. Make sure Ali is ready."

Tina turned to Ali and saw that he had understood and had already begun to button up his jacket. Nodding her approval she turned her attention back to Curtis.

"Sam, any news from the ground?"

She saw him shake his head.

"They've got the whole area staked out but our gunman hasn't shown himself yet. I don't think he'll make a move into the open until he hears the chopper."

Tina nodded in agreement and again turned her attention to the Arab.

"We can only presume it is a sniper. You know what to do don't you."

Ali nodded grimly. "I follow your every command. I understand Miss Baccus."

"It's for your own safety you understand."

"I know. I will not let you down. I don't know what your plan is but I have been told to follow your orders without question. You need not worry for me."

She smiled again and pulled the hat from his hands and placed it on his head.

"Here, let's make sure you impress the locals with your new outfit."

He heard the blades of the helicopter and lowered the binoculars from his eyes. He had watched as the dark speck had increased and he was now sure that this was his target. Slowly slipping out of cover he lay down on his belly and put the viewfinder of his sniper rifle to his eye. His orders were simple. If a man came out of the helicopter wearing a buckskin coat and hat then a bullet must be sent straight through his heart. He was confident of his abilities, he had been trained by the Israeli intelligence service and he had never failed an assigned task. He smiled to himself. This job was worth a lot of money to him and although he would have to keep a low profile for the next few months he was sure that his recuperation would be spent somewhere sunny.

Spencer lowered the high powered binoculars and called on his throat microphone.

"I see him. He's on top of the Nat West bank building, near the air condition unit. By the looks of it he's got a sniper rifle and he's aiming right at the landing zone."

"Got that" replied Malone looking up towards the building. "Move in, team 3. Quietly, remember we need the sniper alive."

His team leader called in his confirmation.

Mike Brennan spoke quietly into his mike briefing his team. They had all heard Spencer's report. "Remember boys, we need him alive."

After hearing the acknowledgements he indicated the way and they began to climb quickly towards the roof.

The sniper saw the helicopter hover for a moment before settling down onto the grass in a billow of dust. He cursed the dry condition of the ground as he would need to wait for the dust to settle before he could get a clear shot. Flexing his finger he waited patiently until the blades stopped turning and the door swung open. Stepping lightly out of the craft he saw a tall dark man dressed in a black overall. In his hand he held an automatic machine gun. He let out a small laugh. It was an ideal weapon if they were expecting to be overrun by terrorists at close range but useless against a sniper. He saw the dark man swiftly make a standard perimeter check and then indicate to someone inside the craft. The snipers finger tightened on the trigger as he saw the flash of a brown jacket and he watched as his target climbed from the helicopter followed by a smaller bodyguard. Getting a clear shot he was just about to press the trigger when he heard a noise behind him. Ignoring it he pulled the trigger just as he heard the scream of "down" coming from behind him.

He turned quickly and his hand went to his side where he held a loaded pistol. Reaching down he managed to put his hand on the butt before a bullet slammed into him, throwing him back against the side of the air conditioner. "Screaming in rage and pain he once again tried to pull the gun out but his arm was unresponsive and he looked down and saw that the bullet had shattered his forearm. He looked up and saw the barrel of a gun pointed at his face.

"Give it up sunshine" growled Brennan and grunted in satisfaction as the sniper surrendered and held up his uninjured hand.

"You are too late" he hissed. "I have already got my shot off and I do not miss."

He was right, the bullet had not missed it's target. Ali had been knocked back by the force of the bullet entering his chest. Immediately, Curtis and Backup had covered him, laying down and aiming their guns out, just in case this was a diversion. No further attack came and they heard a satisfied "We got the bastard" from Brennan. Turning her attention back to her charge Tina pulled the jacket open.

"I am afraid that I have put a hole in your fine jacket" gasped Ali, the force of the impact having winded him. Relieved to see the bullet lodged in the Kevlar vest she gave him a wry grin. "It was a good shot" she commented "right over the heart."

"That has got to hurt" commented Curtis offering his hand to the brave Arab.

"I said before that I get paid a lot of money. What are a few broken ribs for the sake of peace in my country."

Sam nodded in approval and turned around to see Malone and several of the Syrian security agents coming towards them.

"Are you alright Ali" asked the leader, a short squat man with a balding head.

"Yes Sir. I fear that I have added a few more cracked ribs to my collection but as you can see I am still breathing."

"Good man. He turned and spoke to another agent "Eftel, make sure that he receives the best medical attention."

"Sir" he acknowledge and helped the injured man towards the paramedics.

Malone felt Curtis's eyes boring into him and turned his attention to him.

"Did you get him Sir?" he demanded and was relived to see the nod directed towards him.

"Yes, Mr Curtis. He was winged but we will be able to interview him as soon as he has received medical attention."

The Syrian security agent cleared his throat.

"We will interview the assassin Mr Malone. It was a threat against our President."

"Mr Maladrin, I have already explained the problem we have with a missing agent. The sooner we talk to him, the sooner we can get the situation under control."

Maladrin stood firm. "Mr Malone, I understand about your missing man but this assassin will have information on a plot against our President. I do think that that it is more important to find out the plotters first."

Curtis reacted in blind anger. "We have a major difference of opinion on that" he snapped taking a step towards the Arab.

Malone thrust out a hand stopping him. "Mr Curtis stand down. Mr Maladrin knows the urgency of the situation. Until we know whether we have a security leak or not, all of CI5 ‘s recent operations are at risk. Believe me, I have expressed my opinion firmly to the upper echelons of the security service. After all, without Mr Keel, the assassination plot may not have been uncovered in time. I trust Mr Maladrin to make sure that any clues on the whereabouts of our missing Agent will be passed on immediately. "

He looked at Maladrin challenging him to disagree.

"Certainly, Mr Malone. I will pass on all relevant information as requested."

"Thank you." said Malone, shaking the Arabs hand. He saw understanding in the Arabs face and was confident that he would be making every effort to help out CI5.

"Come on Sam" whispered Tina putting her hand on his elbow. "Let's get back to base.

Sam glanced down at his arm and then back to her before nodding. They walked down the hill and met Spencer standing waiting for them. He greeted them and they chatted briefly on what had happened.

"I had a thought on the way over. I was wondering how the gunrunners found out about the observation point. I want to go over the phone records and photographs with you. Maybe we can pick something up from there." said Spencer.

"It's worth a go" Tina agreed and they nodded their goodbye to Malone before walking towards Spencer's land rover.

*******

His head was now clear, the final dregs of the drug had finally been flushed from his system. He had drunk gallons of water and had slept for most of the last day and was now feeling more like the old Christopher Keel. He was aware of his situation and was playing along with his captors. He was experienced enough to recognise the old hurt and comfort routine, where one captor was the bad guy and the other more friendly. With drugs in his system he had been weak willed but he now felt more in control of his actions and he had begun to make plans. There was no doubt that he was totally on his own. He could not expect a rescue. If he was to escape, it would have to be entirely on his own initiative.

He played the role of a subservient broken man, mumbling and stammering his way though the many questions thrown at him over the last few hours. Most of the answers he gave had a thread of truth in them but were so general, he was convinced that very little damage would be caused.

Finally, he had feigned tiredness and had curled up on the bed as if he needed to sleep. His body was still sore and his ribs and belly ached from the heavy bruising but he was finding the discomfort more bearable as the days went on.

He watched as the older of his two captors left the room leaving his ‘friend' Jacobs behind.

Jacobs moved over and sat in the seat next to the bed.

"You were close to your partner weren't you?" he asked, surprising the American.

"We had been together for over 3 years. You get kinda close to a guy when you've been watching each other's backs for that long."

"Do you know that you called out for him when you were in your delirium?"

"Like I said. We we're together a long time."

"I bet it's cut him up watching you ‘die' like that."

Chris swallowed and looked down at his hands.

"I guess it was tough but I know Sam and Tina. They're both strong. Shit happens in our job - you just have to get on with it."

Jacobs nodded.

"Were you lovers?"

Chris looked up sharply. Did Jacobs know the truth? Hell, what had he said in his feverish dreams. He thought quickly.

"Who, me and Tina?" and was relieved to see him nod.

"We have a rule in CI5. It's called rule number 1 - no personal attachments. It makes a lot of sense."

"Hmm. What about personal attachments for you Chris. Was there anyone special in your life."

"No."

"What never?"

"Well, there was someone once but that was a long time ago."

Jacobs leaned forward and put his hand on his arm.

"Did she leave you for another Man or did you walk out on her."

Chris felt the emotion of that statement roll through his stomach.

"Neither, she died. End of story. " he said, looking up and challenging him.

Jacobs met his gaze and held it for what seemed like an eternity.

"I am sorry Chris. All of us need someone to love."

Chris realised what Jacobs was doing. He was being softened up for the next stage of the routine. Once the captive was broken, he was befriended and then slowly his feelings of isolation were used against him, making him dependant on his friend and desperate for his good will. If the scenario panned out as Jacobs and his other captor planned then Chris would begin to have an attachment to his friend. It was classed as "Stockholm Syndrome" and in some cases had resulted in the prisoners falling in love with their captors. Chris grimaced, there was no way in earth or in hell that that would ever happen but he needed to make them think they were succeeding if he was to be able to escape.

He looked down and fiddled with his hands. They had been handcuffed again as his captors had realised that the drugs were wearing off.

"I just want to go home." he whispered, seemingly in despair.

Jacobs smiled in sympathy. "I know you do but you also know that that is impossible. Chris, you must realise that you are dead. You're old life no longer exists. You'll stay with us." He looked up. "For how long? When you've finished with me you'll just kill me."

Jacobs couldn't deny it. "I don't know how long Chris. It may be a few weeks, it may be a few years. But you must realise that you don't have to suffer for all that time. Let me be your friend, help us and we will make your stay with us comfortable."

Chris looked up at the dark man and tears glistened in his eyes.

"I don't want to be alone." he cried and felt Jacobs move towards him offering him his shoulder to cry on.

He murmured comforting words before the American pulled back.

"I don't want to be alone tonight. Please, I want you to stay."

Jacobs pulled back, suspicion in his eyes. This was too easy, his plan working quicker than envisaged. Chris saw the hesitation and dropped his eyes in defeat.

"I'm sorry."

Jacobs raised his chin with his hand and gently rubbed away the tear tracks. He knew the Agent was tired and in pain and his emotion seemed too raw for it to be faked and he made a decision. Leaning down he kissed Chris, their lips moulding together. He was satisfied when he felt the Agent returning the kiss with fervour. After a while Chris tried to put his arms around Jacobs but bumped his arms into his head.

"Sorry" he muttered. "I think it would be easier if you take the cuffs off."

Jacobs sat up. "No."

The American pleaded. "Please, I want to hold you." "That's impossible"

"Then you don't trust me."

Jacobs gave a harsh laugh. "You're a trained killer. Do you think I'm a fool."

Chris mentally cursed. This was going to take longer than he thought. He licked his lips and made a decision.

"Then I'll just have to do this without hands." He knelt down and tugged at Jacob's crotch with his teeth.

The dark mans eyes widened as he realised what his captive was trying to do. Looking down he felt the stir of desire and dropped his hand down to cradle the back of Keel's head, rubbing his crotch in his face.

Perhaps he had misjudged his captive. Maybe his need was so great that he was willing to go all the way. Deciding to go along with it for the time being he dropped his hand down and slid the zipper down. Reaching into his pants he pulled out his semi-erect cock and guided it into the Agent's eager mouth. Chris cringed inside at what he was doing but the situation was necessary. He felt the hot penis thicken and lengthen as he used all his tricks to bring it to a quick conclusion. Jacobs gasped at the extereme sensations flowing though his body and jerked in ecstasy as he felt his seed explode into his captives mouth. Chris swallowed it down and smiled up at the dark man who had a silly smile on his face. Reaching around with his arms he pulled Jacob's pistol from his shoulder holster and shot him, point blank, through the groin. Jacobs screamed in horror and pain and fell back, blood spraying from his severed genitals. Chris had no compassion. This bastard had put himself and his friends through agony. He searched through his pockets and found the key to his handcuffs. Manipulating them clumsily, due to his still stiff fingers he managed to get rid of them before going to the door. He was certain that even if the gun shot had not been heard, Jacobs pitiful screams which were filling the room certainly would be. Throwing open the door he ran towards the end of the corridor, the gun held out in front of him. Coming down the stairs he saw three men, all heavily armed and he shot one relishing the thud of the falling body. The other two men stopped and found the cover of a doorway.

Jeb carter cursed, This was not part of the plan. From the screams coming from the room in front of him Jacobs was injured, and by the sound of it probably dying. The CI5 Agent had played them for fools and he only now realised the tenacity of the man. He poked his head round the doorway and pulled back quickly as a bullet barely missed him.

Hearing more of his men coming down the stairs he shouted up to them to stop and to work their way around the back.

Chris heard the call and his heart dropped. He had no indictaion of how many men he faced. In their interrogations there had only been two captors and he had assumed that that was all there were. Faced with a deadly foe in front and the likelihood of a deadly foe in the rear his mind raced as to how to get out of his predicament. Glancing behind him he saw another door at the end of the corridor and assumed that that was the way out. His only option was to exit out of the rear before the reinforcements reached him. Blindly shooting the rest of the bullets in his gun he twisted and ran towards the door. He nearly made it but his damaged knee collapsed at the most inopportune moment and he stumbled and fell headlong into the door. In an instant he was pounced on and he felt the gun snatched away from his hand and his arms pulled painfully behind his back. Screaming in pain and frustration he bucked up but a sharp blow to his kidneys knocked the air out of him and he collapsed forward in defeat.

Carter knelt on the agents back and saw the fight leave him.

"Hold him" he snapped at one of his men as he climbed back to his feet and returned to the bedroom. Jacobs lay on the floor quietly whimpering, his blood spread around his body. Squatting down carter looked at his friend and saw the agony that he was suffering. Moving his eyes reluctantly to the gory wound he felt a rage rise within him and he raised his pistol to the dying mans head.

They had been friends for a long time and had worked together well over many years. Their eyes met in a last look of trust as Jacobs closed his eyes and carter shot him between the eyes.

"Goodbye my friend" he whispered before rising to his feet.

As he walked back into the corridor he removed his belt. He would not kill the prisoner, he was too precious for that, but he would make certain that he suffered the agonies of hell. As he reached the disabled American he kicked him savagely in the kidneys again and then indicated for his men to move back. He brought the belt down hard on the exposed back and heard Keel scream in pain. Again and again he beat him, the leeather marking the skin in wide welts. Chris screamed until he could scream no more but the beating went on. Eventually, one of his men stepped forward. "Mr Carter, you will kill him."

Carter put all his power into one last lash and saw the prisoner jerk weakly."

"That was for my friend. I will make you suffer Keel, every hour of every day and no-one will be able to help you. You'll wish you were dead." Keel could only moan as the pain shook his body. His back and legs felt as if they were on fire and as he was roughly lifted,the agony lanced through his body and he welcomed the blackness of unconciousness.

*******

"Tina, look at this." Backup looked up from the notes and took the picture that Curtis handed her. "Do you recognize this character."

She studied the photograph carefully her alert eyes noting the appearance of the dark man in a heavy gray coat. She looked at Curtis and saw the conviction in his eyes.

"It is him isn't it?" he asked desperately looking for confirmation.

Tina nodded. That man's face had been indelibly seared into her mind the day that he injected the poison into Keels neck.

Spencer saw the look pass between them.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"The man who ‘killed' Chris." muttered Curtis. "Spencer. Can you put this photo through the records. Maybe we can come up with a name."

"I'll get right on it. Look, it's going to take some time. Why don't you two get something to eat. You've been on the go all day."

Tina looked at Sam and nodded. They both needed a break "Ok. We'll bring you something back."

Spencer nodded absently, his mind already processing the task of identifying the man in the photograph.

Walking to the 4th floor canteen they grabbed a sandwich and a drink each and sat at a table near the window. It was quiet at that time of day and they were the only two in there.

"We're close Tina. I can feel it."

"Don't get your hopes up too far Sam. We don't know for certain whether Chris is dead or alive. And if he is alive, what kind of condition he'll be in."

"He's alive Tina. I've felt it. We have this bond. I don't know how to explain it but I'm certain he's alive."

She joined her fingers in his hand. "I hope he is Sam." she murmured.

Her feelings were mixed. Purely selfishly she mourned the loss of their new found closeness. If Chris was alive then she would again become the outsider. On another level though she saw the desperate hope of Sam and cursed her own selflishness. How could she deny him his happiness. He had lost the single most beautiful thing in his life and now he had the chance of regaining it. How could she resent that. She loved Sam with all her heart but she also wanted him to be happy and Chris made him happy. She felt Sam give her fingers a squeeze.

"I know this is hard for you Tina. Maybe if things had been different you and me ….."

"Don't say it Sam" she warned. "I love you but I also love Chris. No regrets. What we did was just two sad and lonely people desperately in need of comfort."

"Thank you Tina. However it turns out. Thank you."

She smiled ruefully. "How many times to I have to tell you to stop thanking me Curtis."

Her comment caused the intensity of the moment pass and they slipped into an easy silence, each holding their own thoughts on what the next 24 hours would hold.

They walked up the stairs together into the ops room and planted themselves next to Spencer. Looking up the dark agent greeted them.

"Tuna mayo. I hope that's ok" said Tina handing him the sandwich.

"Great" replied Spencer taking the can of coke from Sam.

"Any news?"

Spencer shook his head. "It's still running though the files. I reckon it'll be about another half an hour before it finishes. Mr Malone came back about 10 minutes ago." he indicated to the office.

Curtis got up and walked over to the door. After knocking he was admitted and walked in to see a tired Malone rubbing his eyes.

"Sorry to disturb you Sir but I just wondered if there was any news from the Syrians?"

"Nothing at the moment I'm afraid. I do know that they have patched him up but apparatently he is proving to be very hard to break down. Maladin thinks it may be days before he can get any useful information."

Curtis sighed and rubbed his own eyes.

"And in the meantime Chris is suffering god knows what."

Malone looked up "I made sure that they know the urgency of the situation Mr Curtis but even Harry Malone has limitations."

Curtis smiled gratefully. "I know you're doing everything you can and I am grateful for it Sir. It's just the not knowing that is killing me."

"I understand Sam. It's hard on all of us but I cannot even start to imagine what you are going through. I'm proud of you. Weaker men would have buckled by now."

Curtis smiled and dropped his eyes at the compliment.

"We may have another lead."

Malone looked up in surprise. "Tell me more"

"Spencer suggested we look at the bust gunrunners observation. We know they were tipped off and he wondered if we recognised anyone from the photos."

"Any luck?"

"Yes Sir. The bastard who injected Chris. Spencer is running it through the computer now to see if we can ID him."

Malone smiled for the first time that day. "Good God. Maybe we won't need to wait for the Syrians."

"I hope not Sir. I got a cold feeling before. I don't know how to explain it but I feel that our time is running out."

"Get back to your work Mr Curtis. As soon as you have some news let me know."

"Yes Sir."

Malone watched as the dark Englishman left his office.

"For your sake Mr Curtis I hope that you're in time" he murmured before turning to the pile of files on his desk.

"Jeb Carter" read Backup, leaning over the screen. "Known connections to the middle east, convictions for assault several years ago. Whereabouts unknown. Damn."

She looked up at the two men near her and saw the disappointment in their faces.

Curtis grimaced and scanned the screen looking for more details.

"At least we've got a positive identification. We'll have to cross reference the known intelligence on his activities and see if we can come up with something postive."

"It's going to be a lot of work Sam" commented Spencer looking at him in concern. He saw the Englishman nod.

"I've got a few friends at MI6 that may be able to help." said Sam as he looked at his two companions. "Come on guys. I know it's pretty thin at the minute but we just need a lucky break."

Tina was unconvinced that they would be able to uncover any relevant information but she knew how important it was to keep Sam's mind active.

"Alright Sam. Where do you want to start?"

Sam cast a grateful look at Backup, knowing full where the reservations she was holding back.

"Let'