A/N: Words can't express my gratitude for my beta, seren_ccd, for going above and beyond to beta this story for me when she had way more important (and fun) things to do – especially since I was so slow in getting this story written and sent to her.

Warnings: Non-graphic descriptions of attempted rape, torture and violence. Strong language and non-graphic sexual situations.

Spoilers: Pretty much everything in the series (including the comics) is fair game.

*/*/*/*/*

Part One: Now and Then

Now - November 2008

Heather immediately knew something momentous had happened from the look on Beck's face when he rushed into her office. As she rose to her feet she began to run through the possibilities (Constantino? The President? A new outbreak of HRV? Ravenwood? The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?) and how quickly she could activate the various contingency plans.

"They found - they found - " he stammered and stopped, for once at a loss for words.

Heather blinked, trying to get her racing mind to shift gears, trying to think of who could have been missing. The President was always surrounded by security and Jake and Hawkins hadn't left town in weeks. So that meant Jake and Hawkins couldn't be the ones in trouble...for a change. What they were getting up to while they were in town was anybody's guess.

Heather shook her head and refocused on the issue at hand. "Did something happen to the perimeter patrol?" she asked, her brow furrowed in thought. "Who was out -?"

" No, no, no - my...my - Leyna - my wife - they found her in a refugee camp in Louisiana -"

" Oh. My. God," Heather breathed. The blood drained from her face and her eyes became so huge they seemed to take up her entire face. She sat suddenly, her knees giving out on her.

Beck watched her, his posture rigid. Written all over his face was a confused array of emotions: joy, relief, excitement...loss. Regret.

She understood.

Heather licked her lips, and stuttered weakly, "Th-that's wonderful." It would have been more convincing, she was sure, if she hadn't been choked with tears, and if she could have kept looking him in the eye as she said it.

With an effort she stood, came out from behind her desk and threw her arms around him. He buried his face into her shoulder and held her tight. She felt his tears scald the skin of her neck.

"They'll be here in the morning," he managed.

"I'm so happy for you," she whispered, trying to ignore the sick pain uncurling in her stomach. This moment was not about her - it was about Beck and the fulfillment of his most cherished dream. She loved him enough - she could be big enough - to be happy for him.

Even if her heart was breaking.

*/*/*/*

Then - November 2007

The night was cold and calm, cloudless. Even in the moonlight, the stars were brilliant and appeared so close, Heather felt she could simply reach through the windows and pluck them from the sky. She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of footsteps and smiled in the semi-darkness as Beck approached her. He would have looked as remote as ever in his army uniform and boots except he was carrying two plates of cake and two beers as he made his way towards her in the dim light of the anteroom. The food and drink somehow humanized him, made him seem like just another citizen of the town and not someone who'd once declared them insurgents and imposed martial law.

"You finally made it," she smiled as he came to a stop by her side.

He nodded and offered her a beer and a piece of cake before settling himself beside her. They ate for a moment in silence.

"Beer and cake?" she finally asked lightly.

Beck shrugged, but his sidelong glance was amused. "Not the best combination, I know, but it was either this, some of Mary's moonshine, or Stanley's home-made wine."

Heather grimaced, the look on her face saying it all. Then she said diplomatically, "To be fair, he's improving."

"Would you like me to get you a glass of that instead?" Beck asked, perfectly deadpan.

"No!"

He grinned at that and she shook her head, chuckling as she ate another bite of cake.

"So," he said casually, "why are you sitting in here by yourself?" He nodded towards the noisy party behind them. "You're missing all the fun."

"I just wanted a break," Heather shrugged, concentrating on her cake.

"It's not because you're having a tough time watching Jake and Emily celebrate their wedding?"

Heather chuckled. "I was maid of honor, remember?" She shook her head. "No, not a problem - and I'm looking forward to dancing some more after lunch." She slid a teasing sidelong glance at him. "Maybe I'll even manage to convince you to dance, Major Beck."

Beck hid a smile behind another bite of cake. "Is there a pool among the women in this town as to whether or not I'll take to the dance floor tonight? I've never been so popular before."

"Lots of invites?"

Beck nodded. "And one or two were even just to dance."

Heather choked on the sip of beer she'd just taken. He kindly patted her on the back as she coughed. She stared at him, her eyes luminous in the moonlight streaming through the windows.

"Better?" he asked solicitously.

She continued to stare at him, a puzzled frown now wrinkling her forehead. "Did you just make a joke?" she asked incredulously.

He gave her an arrogant look. "Maybe I'm just stating the facts."

"Well, you don't need to look so smug about it!" she blurted as he took another bite of cake.

He turned to face her, eyebrows raised, his eyes dark and warm in the moonlight. Heather's gaze dropped to his lips as he slowly pulled the fork from his mouth, sucking it clean. Her breath caught in her throat and she was suddenly extremely aware they were, for all intents and purposes, alone in the dark. The noise of the party in the hall behind them faded into the distance as she watched his mouth. She flushed furiously when she forced herself to look away and met his wickedly teasing eyes.

He quirked a half-smile and her eyes dropped back to his mouth again. She swallowed.

"It's flattering," he murmured, his voice warm silken honey stroking across her jangling nerve endings. She shivered. "But I haven't accepted any of the invitations." His voice lowered even more seductively. "Yet."

If possible, her eyes got even larger. She nervously licked her lips. "W-why not?" she stammered, and bit her lip in embarrassment at the breathless tone in her voice.

"Because the right woman hasn't asked me," he replied simply in that same seductive tone. She watched, fascinated, as he leaned closer. "Yet," he breathed as his lips settled gently against hers.

His mouth was firm, warm, and he tasted of chocolate and an indefinable flavor that Heather realized was just...him. She sighed and opened her mouth to him, an invitation he accepted, but only for a moment, his tongue lazily sweeping across hers before he pulled away after one last nibble on her lower lip.

She stared hazily at him, stunned, her lips slightly parted. He took a bite of cake and gave her a lazy smile.

"Eat your cake," he urged gently.

She blinked, blushing even more hotly, and turned her attention back to her plate.

"So is there a pool?" Beck asked with great interest after a few moments of electric silence.

Heather bit her lip then nodded. "I - I think so. I heard some women talking -"

"You're not a part of it?"

She shook her head. "For some reason I don't think they thought I'd play," she said drily.

"Or maybe they knew it would be a sucker bet," he murmured as he finished his cake and put the empty plate on the table behind them. He took a sip of beer as he watched her take another bite of cake.

"Sucker bet?" Heather frowned distractedly. She was dimly aware of the band starting up again in the hall behind them, but her mind was still on the kiss they'd just shared. She'd feel guilty later, she decided, but she was curious as to why Beck, the devoted husband and father, had chosen to kiss her.

Heather squeaked in surprise when Beck took the empty plate from her hands, tugged her up into his arms and whirled her gracefully out onto a bare patch of floor in the anteroom. Or as gracefully as he could while he was wearing army boots.

"Sucker bet," he confirmed. "After all," he murmured, the ghost of his breath across her ear making her shiver and her fingers involuntarily dig a little deeper into his shoulders. "When have I ever said no to you?"

She closed her eyes as they swayed to the music and fought the urge to moan with pleasure.

Instead she sighed, "What's gotten into you?"

He pulled back slightly and frowned at her. She met his gaze steadily, although she was obviously trying to puzzle out this strange behaviour. "Don't get me wrong," she hastened to clarify, "I - I like it! I haven't really danced to a slow song since I moved to Jericho, and I haven't been kissed since -" she stopped and bit her lip, flicking her eyes towards the hall where the noise of the wedding party was swelling again now that lunch was over and the band had restarted.

Beck glanced over to the hall door before meeting her puzzled eyes, eyebrows raised in enquiry.

She blushed then shrugged sheepishly. "I once kissed Jake - he avoided me for a month. And that was that."

Beck's eyebrows inched higher.

"You're not going to ignore me now, are you?" Heather half-teased.

Beck's half-smile faded and he was suddenly very, very serious. "We're deploying in forty-five minutes," he said.

They stopped moving as Heather stared at him, the blood draining from her face.

"I added an extra hour to the departure time so I - we - my troops - could say good-bye. I may very well not speak to you for a month - or longer - but it's not intentional."

Heather blinked against the burning tears in her eyes. She suddenly realized she was clutching his upper arms, her fingers digging into the flesh beneath his uniform sleeves. His arms tightened around her.

"I didn't come here intending to kiss you," he said, his voice low and urgent, "or to dance with you - but I'm not sorry. May my wife forgive me, wherever she may be. But I didn't intend this to be some...some...love 'em and leave 'em...thing."

That penetrated her dismay. She blinked at him then relaxed slightly. "Some love 'em and leave 'em thing?" she teased weakly.

"I'm trying to make a point here," he grumbled.

Their tension eased and they started moving slowly again as the song merged into another ballad. "I never thought you intended to string me along," she said slowly.

Now it was his turn to tease. "String you along? We sound like we're living in the forties!"

"Yeah, the 1840s," she said, then added wryly, "not far off, actually."

He buried his face in her hair as he laughed softly, hugging her close. With a sigh, he set her away from him, his hands on her shoulders as he looked seriously at her. Now he was the Major Edward Beck she knew so well. Stoic, serious, remote and all army.

"I have to go soon," he said. "You've been an excellent liaison and my closest friend. You've supported me in a million ways in my dealings with Jericho, the ASA and in searching for my wife and daughter. I - I appreciate everything you've done for me, personally, for my troops, and for Jericho. I hope they truly realize how much of an asset you are to this town. I didn't intend to - to -" He pressed his lips together and glanced guiltily away. He sighed and met her eyes again. "I only intended to tell you we were leaving and to say good-bye. Then I was approached half a dozen times to dance before I even managed to find you, and - okay, maybe there was a little of that desire to not go to the front lines without...without a kiss and a dance with a beautiful woman."

Heather blushed, flustered. "You could have gotten both from...well, anybody."

"I doubt I would have enjoyed either of them as much."

She tried to smile. "Well, that's flattering. In an odd sort of way."

Beck tightened his grip on her shoulders. "I have to go," he said softly.

"I know," she said. "Can you tell me -?"

He shook his head. "The less you - or anyone else in Jericho - know, the better off you'll be. Now, listen to me," he said urgently, giving her a slight shake. "I want you to let Hawkins help you - listen to him. When the ASA comes here looking for answers, they'll zero in on you. You need to protect yourself. You need to have a plan."

"We've been planning for months," she reminded him.

He sighed. "Yes - to protect Jericho. I'm talking about protecting yourself. I can at least have some peace of mind knowing you have Hawkins, and Jake - hell, the entire town - to protect you."

"But who will protect them?" she asked.

His mouth opened and closed, then he shook his head. "I have to go." He dropped his hands from her shoulders. "I have to go."

"I know," she said. She placed her hands against his chest, leaned up and pressed her lips against his. The kiss was chaste, and short and neither made the effort to deepen or prolong it, although it took every ounce of self-control Heather possessed to keep it that way.

"Now I really have to go," Beck sighed huskily.

"I know," she said again and stepped away from him.

She walked him to the door and with one last lingering look, Beck left the hall. She stood outside, shivering, and watched him until he was swallowed up by the darkness. She continued to stand there until she heard the sound of engines driving off into the distance.

*/*/*/*

Now - November 2008

Jake rushed into Beck's office and skidded to a halt in front of his desk.

"Really?" he demanded, his dark eyes wide and excited. "They've been found?"

Beck leaned back in his chair, deliberately casual. His effort to appear relaxed and calm was lost on Jake, who simply gave him his "you're talkin' bullshit" look. Beck smiled ruefully and nodded. "Leyna, yes," he said. "No word about Elje, but I'm hoping Leyna will be able to tell me -" his gaze fell. "Give me a lead," he said squaring his shoulders.

Jake's charming, crooked grin lit up his face. "I'm happy for you, man," he said. "Truly." He stuck out his hand. Beck shook it gratefully, his own smile getting wider.

"Thanks, Jake."

"So! How are you getting ready?" Jake asked, rubbing his hands together.

"How -? I'm sorry?"

Jake laughed. "Heather was right! She figured you were probably not thinking of the mundane details. You know," he added helpfully at Beck's blank look, "clothes, food - shelter?"

Jake laughed even harder at the consternation on Beck's face. "Hell, you can't expect her - Leyna? - to camp out with you in that damn tent!" Jake shook his head.

Beck flushed. He hadn't been thinking straight since he got the news. After he left Heather and returned to his office, it had taken him forty-five minutes to read a simple report because he kept staring off into space, anticipating - and dreading - the reunion in the morning.

Now he was being taken to task for not even thinking about where they were going to live after tomorrow morning. And being taken to task by Jake Green, of all people. "I - I was going to deal with all of that when I got off duty tonight," Beck muttered, embarrassed.

Jake's eyes took on a mischievous gleam. "Don't worry about it," he said. "Leave it to me." He turned and quickly left Beck's office.

After a stunned moment, Beck leapt to his feet and hurried after him. "What are you up to?" he yelled after Jake's retreating back. Jake just gave him an airy wave and didn't even bother to turn around.

*/*/*/*

Then - August 2007

Beck had a ritual. First thing each morning he looked at the picture of his wife and daughter before placing it carefully in his helmet. He looked at it again last thing at night before he placed it on the stand beside his cot. And every spare moment was spent making phone calls, calling in favors, searching for his lost family and praying that today, today he would find them. As he geared up for the coming conflict, though, he had less and less time to follow up with his contacts, to touch base with his network of informants, to remind people to be on the lookout for these two individuals, lost somewhere amidst the displaced millions.

Needles and haystacks often came to mind.

He hung up the phone after another fruitless call and slumped back in his chair. He tried to ignore the voice telling him to give up; they were likely dead if he hadn't found or heard from them by now. He picked up his helmet and stared at the picture, asking the familiar and dearly missed faces to send him a sign. He wanted his wife back. He wanted his daughter back. He missed them so much it was a constant dull ache periodically interspersed with the sharp agony of fear and grief. No matter what he did or what crisis he faced, the fact his family was missing was never far from his thoughts. Some days he knew it was only his devotion to duty that kept him sane. As more and more time passed, he had to fight harder to keep his hope alive.

They were out there - he knew it. He could feel it. And he'd believe it until proven otherwise.

"I'm going to keep looking for you," he murmured now to his only picture of Leyna, caressing her face with his eyes, tracing the curve of her cheek, the shape of her mouth. He reminded himself of the sound of her voice, her laugh, the look in her eyes while they made love, the feel of her mouth and hands on his skin. "I'll never give up," he vowed.

"Never give up on what?"

Beck started and stared at Jake.

"Don't you ever knock?" he snapped.

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Technically, this is supposed to be my office since I'm still sheriff," he said, "and actually, I did knock." He glanced at the helmet in Beck's hands. "Whatever's in there had you completely enthralled."

Beck flushed but didn't drop his gaze. He tightened his lips and placed the helmet down on his desk, hiding the picture from Jake's curious gaze. "What can I do for you, Jake?" he asked leaning back in his chair.

"I think this may be more what I can do for you," Jake replied. "I've got a lead on a cache of guns and ammo - a big one. It's being held in one of the caves about three hours from here."

"How sure are you about your source?"

"I trust my source. Whether I trust my source's source - that's a different question."

Beck's lips twitched, then he nodded and stood. "I'll get some soldiers and come with you."

"Thanks. I didn't want to face this group with just the Rangers." Beck raised an eyebrow in question. "Ties to Constantino's gang," Jake elaborated, "and possibly to two or three others in the area. It's gonna be a battle to get the stuff."

"Isn't it always?" Beck said.

Ten minutes later a small fleet of humvees was on the road with Jake and Beck alone in the lead vehicle.

"Thanks for the humvees, too," Jake said after a moment of silence. "I didn't want to have to scrounge for vehicles and have Heather give me the safety lessons for Charlotte again."

"Charlotte?" Beck frowned.

"Her truck. Although she's made quite a lot of headway with it. I understand you no longer have to worry about it blowing up if you leave it running too long."

Beck's lips twitched again and his mood lightened like it always did when he thought of Heather. "That must be a comforting thought."

'Yeah - for everyone within eyesight of the bloody thing." Jake hesitated, looking at Beck as he drove. "What were you talking about? In your office?"

Beck took in a deep breath through his nose and held it. He forced himself to relax as he let the breath out slowly. But he didn't answer and he didn't look at Jake.

Jake gestured at Beck's helmet which was sitting on the seat between them. "May I?" he asked.

Beck hesitated then gave a short, sharp nod. Jake turned the helmet over, and looked in silence at the picture tucked into the crown of the helmet. Finally he said, "They're beautiful."

"Yes," Beck said simply.

"They're missing?"

Beck nodded. "They were in Santa Fe when the Attacks happened. I haven't been able to trace them since."

"Did you go to Santa Fe yourself to look for them?"

Beck glanced over at him, wondering if he'd imagined the faintly accusing tone in Jake's voice. All he could see was honest curiosity. "I've been a little busy. You know, trying to stabilize and rebuild the country," Beck replied drily.

"So - no."

"No. My duty to the country came first. Besides, by the time I got back stateside after the Attacks, they'd disappeared."

Jake frowned, his brow furrowed in thought. "Do you have any word at all as to when they were last seen, or -"

Beck shook his head. "Nothing. Leyna - my wife - had taken Elje to Santa Fe to visit family. My in-laws, and Elje's father and his parents. I haven't been able to gather any intel on them, either. That's not quite true," Beck corrected himself. "About two months ago, I had a report that Elje's father had died in some little town in New Mexico I'd never heard of before. That was about two months after the Attacks, and he'd apparently been alone." Beck shrugged. "For all I know, it wasn't even him - just someone with the same name."

Jake absorbed this in silence. "Why didn't you go to New Mexico yourself? The real reason, I mean."

"I asked to be reassigned to a battalion there but the request was denied," Beck admitted. "I couldn't simply go - we had enough enlisted soldiers going AWOL; officers had to stay the distance no matter how tempting it was to take our guns - hell, take our troops! - and just find and protect our families. Besides, we had - literally - millions of people looking to us for help. Needing relief." He again glanced at Jake. "Looking to us for hope. Besides, while we were pretty forgiving when enlisted soldiers went AWOL, for awhile -" he stopped, his lips tight.

"For awhile -?" Jake prompted after a moment.

"Officers who went AWOL were punished...severely once they were found again. We didn't look - but if we found them...well." Beck lapsed into frowning silence and concentrated on his driving.

Jake pondered this in silence, but to Beck's relief he didn't press for details. Instead, Jake said, "Would you like us to go to New Mexico? See if we can find their trail for you?"

"Who's "we"?" Beck asked suspiciously.

"Me. Hawkins. Maybe a couple of the others."

Beck hesitated, considering the offer, then reluctantly shook his head. "Jericho's going to need you at any moment," he said. "When we make our move, the ASA is going to come down on every town where we were last stationed. I hope my allies are getting their towns' defenses in place the way Jericho is, but I somehow doubt they have a Jake or a Hawkins in their corner."

Jake huffed a laugh. "You might be surprised. Heroes are made in these circumstances -"

"And so are villains."

Jake suddenly grinned. "But none of us are flying around in blue tights and a red cape."

Beck paused for a moment, frowning, trying to shift mental gears. Then he half-smiled. "Superman was born a hero. You're thinking of somebody like Spiderman - and he didn't have a cape."

"Batman had one," Jake laughed as Beck shrugged and conceded the point. Then Jake sobered. "The offer's there, Beck."

"I know - and thank you. You have no reason to offer your help. Not to me."

Jake considered this in silence and Beck knew he was remembering hot lights, exhaustion, desperate thirst and screaming muscles. Jake finally shrugged and looked out his window. "Heather would want me to help you," he said simply.

Beck shot a quick glance at his profile. "And we always seem to do what Heather wants, don't we?" Beck said ruefully.

"Well, she does have a way of looking at you like you're ten feet tall and bulletproof and you're just waiting for an opportunity to show your true heroic colours."

Beck's hands tightened on the wheel. "Makes it difficult to say no," he said mildly.

"Impossible, more like it." Jake sighed. "Funny. I can say no to Emily and never break a sweat. Heather? I feel guilty for days - and then I end up doing what she wanted anyway." He glanced over at Beck with a rueful look. "How about you?"

Beck laughed. "The only time I said no to her, I was completely in the wrong. It didn't take days to feel guilty - I was looking for evidence a half hour after I threw her in jail." He shook his head. "Those eyes of hers should be declared lethal weapons."

Jake nodded and slouched down in his seat. "Yeah. I guess we should just be grateful she's on our side."

*/*/*/*

Now - November 2008

"Major," the President said, amused. "You seem distracted."

Beck looked up, startled, then glanced guiltily from the President to Hawkins. Hawkins simply looked amused. Beck flushed. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I have no excuse -"

"Oh, I've heard differently." The President watched him shrewdly. "Your wife?"

Beck smiled almost bashfully as he nodded. For some reason, his usual respectful demeanour with the woman sitting across from him had deserted him.

"How long has it been?" the President asked.

"Almost three years," he said. "I'd been deployed to Iraq," he elaborated at the President's puzzled frown. "Once we knew about the Attacks, we were brought back as quickly as possible, and - well, it was chaos."

The President nodded, her eyes dark with memories of her own. "I remember," she said quietly. "Those first few days - weeks - when nobody knew which cities had been hit and which ones still survived -" The President shook off her memories and smiled at him. "I'm sure you'd like some private time to spend with her," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, "but -"

"No buts. You'll have to remain on call, of course, but I think we can muddle through without you for..." she raised her eyebrows, "two weeks?" she suggested.

Beck's eyes lit up as he nodded. "Thank you," he said gratefully.

The President smiled back at him. 'You've earned it - more than earned it," she said and they shared a glance full of remembered danger and terror, and of trust born under the most extreme circumstances. She said, "You realize, of course, it's a two week leave in name only?"

Beck chuckled. "Of course," he agreed, "but I still appreciate the gesture."

*/*/*/*

Then - March 2008

Beck and Hawkins were met by bullets slamming into the door frame high above their heads. They dove to the floor, scrambling to either side of the door.

"Madam President! It's Hawkins!"

"And Major Beck!"

"Shit!" Her voice was low to the floor and came from behind the overturned desk that was partially obscured by the smoke and dust. "Did I hit you?"

"Not even close, ma'am," Beck said as he and Hawkins regained their feet and, crouched low, hurried their way towards her.

"How we knew it was you," Hawkins said as they threw themselves down on either side of her.

"Asshole," she said without heat. She was covered with grit and dust and held the gun tightly with both shaking hands.

"Ma'am, we have to get you out of here," Beck said, his voice as calm and soothing as he could make it. "Are you ready?"

The President swallowed and nodded, then she glanced at her feet clad in attractive high-heeled shoes. "Wait," she said. She removed her shoes with one trembling hand, the other never loosening its death grip on the gun. "This pains me," she joked weakly, "but I can't run in these." She handed one to Hawkins and the other to Beck. They quickly snapped off the heels and she slipped the shoes back on. She nodded to Hawkins and Beck and they made their way to the door.

Beck's troops had done their job well, drawing the fighting away from the President's location and in the opposite direction that she and the others needed to go. Beck and Hawkins quickly checked the corridor then turned to the terrified but resolute woman behind them.

"If you're going to shoot that thing," Hawkins said, "aim high. Remember we're the ones trying to rescue you."

"Careful, Mr. Hawkins - I could shoot you on purpose." But she visibly relaxed slightly and gave him a glimmer of a grateful smile.

Beck chuckled. "I've been tempted myself." He glanced at her. "Ready, Madam President?"

She nodded as she quipped, "Under the circumstances, call me Rebekkah."

Beck met her eyes through the gritty, smoky haze, and was once again impressed by her courage and determination.

He nodded at Hawkins and with the President between them they made their run out of the building and towards the waiting helicopter.

The chopper lifted off just as the ASA ground forces came around the building, weapons firing. Hawkins, Beck and the four soldiers in the chopper returned fire until they were safely out of range.

The President, grim-faced, looked out the chopper windows at the devastated, burning city, and flinched each time the jets zoomed close to them, shooting down enemy planes and missiles. Then they were clear of Columbus and the thick of the battle, and they could see, dotted on the horizon for as far as the eye could see, columns of smoke, the other cities burning under the ASA onslaught.

The President twisted in her seat, and for the first time since he'd met her, Beck saw tears in her eyes.

She fumbled for the radio, and the soldier beside her helped her turn it on.

"Where to now?" she demanded furiously. "Where are we supposed to hide now?"

"There's only one place left, ma'am," Beck replied.

"And where, exactly, is that?" she bit out.

"Jericho," Hawkins said. "And we won't be hiding."

*/*/*/*

Now - November 2008

Beck and Hawkins left the President's office in what used to be Jericho's City Hall.

"You'll keep me in the loop?" Beck said. It wasn't really a question.

Hawkins nodded. "Of course." He considered Beck thoughtfully. "Congratulations," he added.

Beck gave him a glimmer of a smile. "Thank you," he said. "But you sound...cautious." Their gazes clashed and once again there was that mutual, respectful recognition that the other man was both a fellow warrior and a dangerous adversary. They were far more alike than Beck liked to admit, and he could almost read the thoughts racing through Hawkins' mind.

"Even though things are relatively quiet, there are still pockets of lawlessness, resistance and guerrilla warfare throughout the country," Hawkins finally said carefully, "and we've both heard rumblings that what's left of the ASA is getting ready to launch another offensive from wherever they've holed up. It's also no secret you're one of the very few people the President trusts." Hawkins shook his head. "I want to just be happy for you, but I've been black ops for too long. Why now?"

Beck pressed his lips tightly together, staring into the distance as they walked towards the sheriff's office. He slid a resentful glance in Hawkins' direction. "So, I'm supposed to look a gift horse in the mouth?" he asked.

Hawkins stared back, his eyes as soulless as a shark's. "I'm saying there may be somebody behind her, expecting to be paid for finding her husband." He blinked, and he was once again the man and not the operative. "Be happy," he said softly, sincerely. "Be grateful. But also beobservant."

*/*/*/*

Then - February 2008

Beck did his best not to pace. He called on every ounce of military discipline he possessed to remain stoic, composed and above all - still. He didn't know when the office door might open, and he didn't want to look as nervous as he felt. He'd gone toe-to-toe with generals. He'd commanded thousands of troops and had held the lives of thousands - tens of thousands - of civilians in his hands. But he'd never before been asked to meet with the President of the United States. Even if she hadn't actually been elected. Even if it wasn't quite the same United States he'd once sworn to defend.

Even if she was a different President than the one they'd come east to serve.

He glanced at the other officers waiting with him, the remaining members of the coalition he'd brought from Kansas. They'd all been fighting steadily for the last three, almost four months, and were all worn to the bone - and looked it. In addition, the effects of the events of the last four days showed in their eyes.

The door opened and everyone rose to their feet. Beck's jaw dropped when he saw the man who came through the door.

Hawkins' expression was deadpan, although his eyes were grimly amused as he met Beck's gaze.

Beck shook his head. "You know what? I'm not even surprised," he sighed.

Hawkins invited them in to the President's office, where he proceeded to introduce himself and provided them with a brief explanation of his role in the Attacks, in gathering the evidence Beck had used to convince them to join his cause, and how and why Hawkins was now in the room with them.

Beck listened with half an ear to Hawkins' skillfully manufactured story that left many pieces out while still providing the listeners with the information they needed. He was anxious to speak to Hawkins privately to find out what happened after he, Beck, had left Jericho. Beck also wanted to know where Jake was, since if Hawkins was here, Jake couldn't be far behind. And if both Hawkins and Jake were here, then who was defending Jericho. More importantly, who was protecting Heather.

Beck kept these thoughts in the back of his mind as he observed the President and found himself intrigued by her.

President Rebekkah Washington (fitting, Beck thought with grim humor) was a striking woman, her skin a slightly lighter shade of black than Hawkins', with a stubborn jaw and beautiful eyes that were dark, intelligent and, Beck realized, uncertain but determined. Beck admired her resilience and fortitude, especially in light of the fact that she'd been twenty or more steps down in Columbus' line of succession and had only officially become President two days before - two days after the ASA attack that left the former President and his cabinet dead or dying. It had taken that long to sort out who was left after the direct attack on the former President's residence.

The current President's eyes moved from person to person during Hawkins' explanation, observing, cataloguing, analyzing. Beck could almost see the wheels turn in her head, although he had no idea what she was thinking or what conclusions she was drawing. Her eyes met his and became even more thoughtful.

"Major Beck," she said once Hawkins had finished, "I understand you were responsible for these additions to our armed forces four months ago." She nodded her head at Beck's fellow officers.

"I gave them information," Beck replied. "They chose their own path."

"But you risked your life to share that information. Any one of these men could have betrayed you."

Beck glanced at his fellow officers, then back at the President. "It was a risk that needed to be taken."

They assessed each other for a moment, then the President slowly smiled at him. "Well, I for one thank you. And I asked you all here to meet you for myself and to hear the story first hand." She sobered, and again Beck saw that flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "Since I'm in need of military advisors, Mr. Hawkins suggested I meet with you and your coalition first. If nothing else, he promised you'd speak truth to me. Plus, unlike my predecessor, I think your knowledge of the ASA's inner workings could prove to be invaluable to me." She carefully observed the seven men in front of her. "We're losing the war, aren't we?" she asked bluntly.

Beck pulled himself into his most rigid military stance. "We've suffered an enormous loss," he acknowledged, "but we're not at the point of surrender yet. Ma'am."

"But we're getting there, aren't we?"

"Only if that's where you want us to go," Beck replied. "We still have a secure supply line, well-trained troops, and strong civilian resistance. The success of the ASA's attack four days ago was a harsh blow, Madam President, but we're still strong and still have a chance to win this war."

President Washington smiled at him again and turned to the others. "What do you think?" she asked.

The other six men glanced at each other, then at Beck, then back to the President. "Major Beck's been right so far," Major Coupland said. "We haven't lost yet, and it's too soon to think of surrender."

She considered them all then looked back to Beck, weighing her options. She came to a decision. "All right," she said with a sharp nod. "What do we do next?"

"I have an idea about that," Hawkins said.

*/*/*/*

Then - March 2008

"They already have her."

Beck reacted without thinking, grabbing Hawkins by the shirt and slamming him against the wall.

"Where is she?" he growled.

"I don't know," Hawkins rasped. "That's the whole point of this exercise after all. I'm waiting for word - when she finds Tomarchio."

Beck slowly let him go, disbelieving eyes on Hawkins' face. "You sent that...thatinnocent...child -"

"She's not a child, Major."

"She is when it comes to this! They'll -" he squeezed his eyes shut, abruptly let go of Hawkins' shirt and turned his back. He struggled to block out the pictures that formed in his mind. "They'll torture her, Hawkins," he whispered hoarsely. "They'll beat her - rape her -" He spun around to face him. "We have to get her out. Right now." Beck began to pace. He started running through his companies, which ones he could quickly redeploy to Cheyenne - or wherever the hell they'd taken her. He'd rip the entire west apart brick by brick until he found her.

"You agreed," Hawkins calmly reminded him. "Besides, Heather volunteered. And she insisted. They were looking for her anyway."

"To execute her for treason!" Beck shouted.

"She's been living in a cave for the last two months, Major," Hawkins snapped. "She can't hide forever. She wanted to help and - honestly - there's no one else the ASA wants more...except perhaps you. If this works, the war could be over in a matter of weeks, if not days."

"The chances of it working are what? Slim to none?"

"You agreed, Major," Hawkins said coldly. "The odds didn't seem to matter to you before you learned who'd volunteered for the mission. Personal feelings can't be taken into consideration."

"But I didn't know who -" Beck stopped, realizing he had happily condemned someone else to the fate Heather now faced. He slowly deflated, his breath escaping him in a long sigh. Then he glared at Hawkins. "If she dies..." he growled softly.

"She won't."

Beck ignored him. "If she dies -"

"She won't," Hawkins said firmly.

"Now you're lying," Beck said flatly, then spun around and paced in silence. He stopped in front of Hawkins, scowling. "You do realize this goes against all the rules of warfare?"

Hawkins smiled grimly. "I don't know if you've noticed, Major - but there are no rules in thiswarfare."

*/*/*/*

Now - November 2008

Jake immediately nabbed Beck as he left the sheriff's office at the end of the day. News travelled fast in Jericho, so Jake already knew Beck was officially on leave as soon as he walked out the door. With a teasing grin, Jake herded the other man west of downtown and refused to answer any questions as they walked. Ten minutes later, Jake opened the front gate to a charming two storey house and led the way to the front door.

Jake opened the door with a flourish and Beck stepped in to his new home and into a crowd of people applauding his arrival. He stopped, taken aback, then flushed and grinned as he entered into the midst of his friends.

They were all here, he saw. Jake and Emily, Hawkins and Darcy, Eric and Mary, Stanley and Mimi. Heather. And Gail Green, who bustled up to him and enveloped him in a strong maternal hug that brought back such vivid memories of his own mother he had to blink back the sudden rush of hot tears. Gail pulled away and cupped his face.

"I'm so happy for you, honey," she said and kissed him on the lips, much to the delight of their on-lookers. He was hugged and kissed by all the women, his hand was shaken and his shoulder slapped by all the men. If Heather's hug and kiss was more perfunctory than anyone else's, no one had the bad manners to mention it.

There was much laughter and teasing and then Beck said with an appreciative sniff, "Who's been cooking?"

"All of us," Gail said.

"Except Emily," Jake chimed in, "otherwise you'd be too sick with food poisoning to meet the convoy tomorrow." Everyone laughed as Emily smacked Jake on the shoulder.

"You may have a lot in common with Leyna," Beck teased. "She never learned to cook either."

Heather kept the smile on her face with an effort as she listened to the bantering.

Then Stanley placed a bottle on the table with a flourish. It had the effect of a pebble being dropped into a pond as everyone simultaneously leaned away from it.

"Hey now!" he protested. "This is one of my best efforts!"

Gail clapped her hands together before anyone could answer and turn the evening into a verbal brawl. "Okay, before we start eating and drinking, and leaving the dishes for Beck to clean up," she winked at Beck's startled face. "Why don't you give him a tour of the house, Heather, while the rest of us get the food ready?"

Heather's eyes flew to Gail, consternation written all over her face. Gail gave her a meaningful look and Heather nodded meekly.

"We'll start upstairs," she said and invited him to follow her with a tilt of her head.

"What was that about?" he asked softly as they walked up the stairs.

Heather sighed. He always noticed too much, she thought. "Gail thinks we need a chance to talk," she replied. "I don't necessarily agree."

By the time they'd toured the two upstairs bedrooms and the main floor and were standing in the fully developed basement, Heather was chattering like her life depended on her explaining why they'd chosen the house.

"I know it seems big, but you need room to meet with - with - well, everybody, and Leyna may, you know, want her own space for awhile and who knows, you might find Elje soon or have more children or adopt - or - or - or not," she added hastily at his look. "I mean, there's so much you'll have to talk about when Leyna arrives, and really, the future is still so uncertain, and it's none of my business and I'll shut up now."

Beck was standing back, his arms crossed, amused and sad. He considered her in silence as she stood before him, her hands twisting together nervously.

"I know this isn't easy for you," Beck said quietly. "You didn't have to do any of this." He encompassed the house, the furnishings and the noisy crowd upstairs in one slight tilt of his head. "You have every right to simply leave me to muddle through this on my own."

Heather gave him a twisted smile. "First and foremost, Beck, I'm your friend. You were completely honest with me when you came back six months ago, and told me right away you'd received news Leyna was still alive. It's not like you ever tried to..." she hesitated, then she raised her chin and looked him squarely in the eye as the memory of a warm kiss that tasted of chocolate drifted across her mind. "We were always just friends, Beck, and friends do these kinds of things."

Beck considered her thoughtfully. "You know we're a little more than "just" friends," he said quietly.

Heather shook her head. "One kiss a year ago doesn't mean anything," she assured him and hoped he'd accept the lie. She gave him a rueful smile. "If we'd pursued a relationship when you came back, we'd be having a very different conversation."

He smiled slowly at her. "I'm sure we would," he agreed. Then he sobered, his eyes solemn and sad and filled with regret for what might have been. Lurking beneath it all was still that hint of fascination he always had whenever he looked at her, like he couldn't quite believe she was real.

After a long moment, Heather looked away, glancing around the basement. "So," she said, her voice deliberately cheerful, "do you think Leyna will like it?"

Beck looked around. "What's not to like?" he asked. Leyna would have hated it Before; too old fashioned for her tastes. Now? She'd probably think it was a little piece of heaven.

Heather nodded in relief. "I'm glad," she said. She moved past him to go back upstairs. He stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. She stopped short, feeling his heat through her thin sweater.

"Heather," he said softly. She looked up at him, and he was again struck by the honesty in her eyes. He hesitated, then he said, "Thank you. I wouldn't have made it this far without you."

She blinked at him then smiled a bit shyly. "You would have been just fine," she said quietly, "but thank you."

"Things are going to change," he continued, "but your place in my life won't."

Heather blinked back tears and realized that it was her turn to accept the lie. She placed her hand on his where it rested on her arm and gently squeezed. "I know," she said quietly. She looked into his eyes and for a moment was tempted to lean forward and kiss him for all she was worth. A good-bye kiss to remember, she thought, before she dropped her hand from his and moved away, his hand sliding off her arm.

"We should go eat," she said, "before all that's left is Stanley's wine."

Beck blinked, suddenly cold as she walked away from him. As he followed her back upstairs, he realized he missed her already.

*/*/*/*

The next day dawned crisp and cold, the smell of snow sharp in the air. Beck was tense, strung tight, as he waited for the convoy from Louisiana to arrive. He tried to stay still, but he was twitchy, ready to jump out of his skin at the slightest sound.

When the corporal finally came to tell Beck the convoy had cleared Jericho's eastern checkpoint, Beck's face said it all. His eyes were wide, and Heather's heart clenched at the vulnerability in his eyes and face as he hurried past without seeing her.

Beck stood, waiting nervously as the humvees pulled up to the sheriff's office, each beat of his heart shaking his body.

He caught his breath as the doors opened. A woman emerged, a slender, brown-eyed brunette. She carefully looked around before meeting his eyes. She said his name. They stared wordlessly at each other. Then - Beck didn't know how it happened - they were in each other's arms, and Beck had his face buried in her hair, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Heather turned and walked away.