Charlie and Mike had called Clarke from the hotel in Tecates, Mexico and explained what had transpired. They left out a few details but the story was fairly accurate. Clarke had ordered them out of Mexico and told them to report immediately to him in person when they arrived back in LA.

While they were driving, Clarke had checked to see if anyone had looked at Paul Briggs' alias Paul Evans' records and was surprised to see it had been accessed a few times in the last week. The system was supposed to report that to him when it happened; so much for technology. The report showed what he assumed was a hit on the record by a local Mexican police office and then several from a Mexican prison. It seemed to confirm that Paul Briggs was probably in jail somewhere in Mexico.

"I don't know how this happened," Clarke remarked to Mike and Charlie sitting across from his desk in the FBI building in LA. "I am supposed to be notified immediately when that flag is raised. Anyway, I have some contacts down in Mexico and I have made some inquires, but it may take a few days to hear back from them."

"Aren't you worried since Rafael Cortes worked for the Federale and he was corrupt that there might be others? That we might be putting Paul's life at risk by alerting the authorities down there?"

"I understand your concern Charlie but rest assured, I only made a few inquiries to people I have known a long time and trust. That is why this might take longer than if I used official channels, but I think it is safer."

Charlie and Mike nodded to show they understood.

"By the way, are you guys any closer to finding Odin Rosse?"

Charlie looked Clarke straight in the eye. "No. I thought I had a solid lead but it turned out to be a bust."

"And Cortes, did he have any idea?"

"Nope. Clueless as us I'm afraid."

Clarke sighed. "Well all things in their time I suppose. If there is nothing further to discuss, I suggest you head back to Graceland and get some rest. And Charlie, get that head checked out."

"Will do Boss," she said as she and Mike rose from their chairs.

"I'll let you know the minute I hear something."

On their way out to the car, Mike glanced over at Charlie. "You have no intentions of seeing a doctor do you."

"Hell no," she replied pushing the door open to the outside.

Once they were seated in the car, Mike asked his next question. "What do you plan to tell Paige, Jakes and Johnny…about Briggs?"

Charlie rubbed her arm and stared out the window. "That is a bit tougher. There are no secrets in Graceland right?" Turning, she looked at Mike. "Did you know Briggs was a heroin addict?" Mike didn't even have to answer; Charlie saw it in his eyes. "Never mind. I can see it. You have to work on that tell Mike."

"I don't have a tell," he said defensively.

"Yeah, you do. How long have you known, about Paul? Since before I used?"

Mike hedged a bit. "About the same time."

"How did you figure out, that Paul was a user?"

"I followed him. To a NA meeting."

"You, followed Briggs?" she snorted skeptically. "Are you sure he didn't let you 'catch' him?"

Confusion registered on Mike's face. "Why?"

"Who the hell knows why Briggs does half the stuff he does. But one thing I do know, he's good… very good…and if he doesn't want you to know something…"

On the drive back to Graceland, Mike pondered what Charlie had said. Was Briggs 'confession' an attempt at misdirection; was Briggs involved in something bigger than being an addict?

Parking in front of the house, Mike shut off the engine but when Charlie started to get out, he reached over and placed a hand on her arm. "You think Briggs is involved with Odin, don't you."

Charlie shut the door and sat back on the seat. "Something like that," she replied cagily.

"You don't suppose Briggs is Odin?"

Charlie exhaled in frustration. "The possibility has crossed my mind. I mean it explains a lot Mike."

Mike thought back to the missing heroin that Juan had told him about. "Yeah, maybe more than you know." With that, Mike told Charlie the truth of how he came to Graceland and his assignment. He told her about the bureaus suspicions on Briggs to include the missing drugs.

"Damn Mike. That explains a lot and certainly backs up my theory that Briggs and Odin are one and the same. But why would he do that?"

"Revenge." Mike filled her in on the little he knew about run in with Jangles.

"So Briggs creates Odin to ultimately get to Jangles, aka, Rafael."

"One monster to get another."

Charlie laid her head back against the seat. "The implications, Mike. This has to stay between us." Mike glanced over at her. "There you go with that tell again Mike. Who already knows?"

Mike ignored the tell comment. "I told Paige I was investigating Briggs and he was a user but that is all."

Charlie thought back to Briggs comment on secrets and burdens. "For now, I say keep this between us. If anyone starts connecting the dots don't confirm or deny. Let Briggs deal with his secrets; they should be his burdens not ours." With that she got out of the truck and slammed the door resolutely behind her.

GRACELAND

Briggs had only been asleep for an hour after his visit to the doctor when another guard came up to the cell and demanded his presence. He was handcuffed again and lead out of the cell block, but this time in a different direction. Briggs could practically feel the hate radiating from the guard who was escorting him. He was taken to a small room with no windows and a lone table in the center of it. There were two normal chairs on one side of the table and a single chair, bolted to the floor, with shackles on it. Briggs was pretty sure what chair he was going to be sitting in.

The guard removed the handcuffs after he had attached the other shackles to his wrists and ankles. Briggs could only move his arms and legs a little, not enough to retaliate when the guard deliberately punched him right in his wounded shoulder before leaving the room. Paul bit back a curse and rode out the wave of pain in silence.

The same two men in the dark suits entered the room, sat in the chairs and placed a manila folder on the scarred wooden table. Paul eyed them warily.

"I am Officer Torres and this is Officer Andino. We have a few questions for you."

"Wow, names this time. I'm honored."

Torres opened the folder on the table. "Everything you say is being recorded so you need to reply to all questions verbally. Are you Paul Evans?"

"Yes."

Torres glanced down at the file. "And you are a legal resident of the United States of America?"

"Yeah."

Leaning back in his chair, Torres folded his arms across his chest. "What are you doing in Mexico, Mr. Evans?"

"At the moment I am chained to a chair being asked questions," Paul replied flippantly.

"Let me rephrase that. What brought you to Mexico?"

"Business."

"Would you like to elaborate?"

"Not really."

"Do you know there is no record of you crossing at any of the legal border checkpoints? At least not under the name of Paul Evans. Did you enter this country some other way? Or under some other name?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

Paul leaned forward in his chair as far as his chains allowed. "I was kidnapped in America by a lunatic who drugged me, stuffed me in the trunk of a car, drove me to the middle of nowhere in Mexico, carved on my like a thanksgiving turkey and then tried to kill me."

"And do you know who this man was…who kidnapped you?"

Paul remained silent.

Torres shuffled some papers in the file and pulled out three photos and laid them on the table facing Paul. The first one was Rafael Cortes, a head shot probably from his police badge. The second photo was also a head shot of the man he'd shot, again it looked like a police badge. The third was a picture of Charlie, lying on the ground, eyes shut, taken at the cabin. It was impossible to say if she was dead or alive when the photo was taken.

"What can you tell me about these people?"

Paul studied the pictures for a minute. "Nothing."

"I see. Please, Mr. Evans. Don't play games with us. I know you know these people."

Paul remained silent and deliberately looked away.

"Ok, how about this, I will tell you what I think you know. This man", he said tapping Rafael's picture, "was stabbed in the chest four times with a knife that had your fingerprints on it. Do you have anger issues Mr. Evans?"

Paul refused to rise to the bait so Torres moved on. "This man, he said tapping the next picture, "was killed by a gun with your fingerprints on it. That gun belonged to this man," he said pointing to the first man again. "Comments? No? So we move on. This attractive woman here," he said tapping the third photo, "she is attractive is she not?"

The second man in the room finally spoke. "Si, very pretty. Too bad." Paul's eyes flicked over to Andino, trying to interpret that remark.

"Too bad," Torres echoed. "Ballistics determined that her wound was made by the same gun that shot him," pointing to picture number 2, "owned by him," pointing to picture number one, "and covered with your," he pointed at Paul, "fingerprints. So what conclusion might we draw from all this? Here's one. You stabbed him," pointing to Rafael, "with the knife then took his gun and then shot this man," pointing to the second man, "with said gun and then finally her," he concluded pointing to Charlie."

"Is she dead?" Paul found himself asking. Now it was Torres turn to remain silent. Paul could read nothing from the man's face. "Answer me," he screamed trying to lunge from his chair but was stopped by the chains. He fell back, totally frustrated.

Torres let him stew for a while realizing he had found the chink in this man's armor. "I have done a lot of talking so far. Now perhaps it is your turn. You tell me something and maybe I tell you something. Let's start with this; do you have another interpretation of what might have happened in that cabin?"

Paul figured he was screwed no matter what so why not tell them the truth; it was not like they were going to believe him anyway. "Fine. You want my version. Mine comes with some names since I cannot point like you can," he said as he raised his arms to rattle his shackles. "The first guy in the picture is Rafael Cortes. International murder. Works for Caza. Likes to carve people up. Carries a large set of keys hence the nickname Jangles. And oh yeah, seems he is Policia Federale." Paul studied the faces of the men opposite him but they remained totally bland.

"So like I said before, Rafael kidnaps me and my, acquaintance, Charlie let's call her, from a motel in LA. He drugs us, stuffs us in a trunk and drives us to a cabin in the middle of nowhere Mexico."

"Outskirts of Tecates, though quite remote," Andino supplied.

"Yeah, whatever. I wake up tied to a chair with this madman slicing patterns in my chest with a knife. After he is done with his carving exhibition, he threatens to kill me and my acquaintance,"

"Charlie," Andino said.

"Charlie, then he leaves the room. I'm not going to sit there and wait to see what this creep does next so I work to free Charlie and me from the chairs. I succeed but hear him retuning so we play possum to lure him in. He approaches me with his knife and I turn the tables on him, taking the knife away. Charlie starts to run for the door and Rafael pulls out a gun. I'm in possession of the knife so I throw it at him but not before he shots Charlie. I pick the gun up and head over to check on Charlie when I hear the door open and this man, whose name I don't know, enters the room, gun drawn. I can only assume his intentions are hostile since he is with Rafael so when he points the gun at me and Charlie I shoot him."

"Without warning," Torres clarified.

"I had every reason to believe he had hostile intentions."

"But Rafael had four stab ones not one," Torres questioned.

"He shot Charlie," Paul returned matter-of-factly.

"Your acquaintance."

Paul sighed. "Very close acquaintance."

Torres cocked his head to the side. "Lover perhaps?"

"I don't kiss and tell."

"You are the one that placed the 911 call," Torres said.

"Yeah. Took the phone off of mystery man."

"You stayed behind. Didn't try to escape while you had the chance."

"Where would I go? In the middle of nowhere. Without a car. And Charlie was hurt, needed medical attention."

"So she was alive...then?" Torres questioned.

"Yeah," Paul replied, his voice breaking slightly. "At least I thought she was when they put her in the ambulance." Paul got lost in the memory, trying to remember if he'd been wrong. Had she already been dead?

"That is quite a tale," Torres said putting the photos back in the file, closing it, standing up and heading towards the door with Andino in tow.

Paul twisted as far as he could in the chair. "What about Charlie!" he yelled after them as they left the room but the door shut firmly behind them without any answer. Paul cursed at them in a combination Spanish and English until the guard came in and smashed him across the face.

"Shut up you animal."

Paul spat blood at him from his spilt lip which earned him a second beating. After Paul was subdued, the guard took him back to his cell. He staggered thru the door and clumsily climbed into his bunk, turning his back to the door. Fred, who had gotten a good look at Paul's face when he came into the door wisely chose to leave his roommate alone.

GRACELAND

A few days later the universe aligned and Clarkes' inquiries into Paul Evans whereabouts reached Torres ears from a friend of a friend. Thinking he might have found the missing link, Torres gave Clarke a call.

They played cat and mouse on the phone for a while, each trying to feel the other one out. Finally, Torres asked point blank if Paul Evans was in some sort of law enforcement. Clarke hesitated than admitted Paul was an undercover agent. Once the trust was built, the two men shared information freely.

"There is no doubt your man killed Rafael Cortes as well as Jorge Lupe, another cop. However, I do believe his story that it was self-defense. I too have been chasing Cortes, Jangles as you call him, for a long time. I suspected he might be one of our own but I was not able to prove it. And now, well it doesn't matter I guess since he is dead. And Lupe, he was a known associated of Rafael so he got what he deserved too."

"That is pretty harsh," Clarke ventured.

"That is reality, especially with these drug cartels. And I abhor a dirty cop," he said matter-of-factly.

"So where does that leave us with Paul?"

"He is currently locked up in prison as I said. I guess we let him go," Torres remarked.

"Yeah, but that will blow his cover and in his line of work that is not a good thing."

"True. And I would hazard a guess he is a good agent."

"One of the best. I have an idea. Since he is an American, what say you give him back to us to stand trial in the USA?" Clarke requested.

"He is wanted on charges in your country?"

Clarke chuckled. "I will update Paul's back-story myself. I think we'll stick with murder, of a cop. That should be reason enough for us to ask for him back. Do you think it will work?"

"I have some friends in high places too. I will make sure it happens without blowing Paul's cover," Torres assured him.

The two men went on to work out the details and when they were finished, Torres requested one last thing. "Please apologize to Mr. Evans for me implying Charlie was dead. It was the only foothold I could find. I feel rather bad because I think he is truly fond of her."

"They are partners. I'll be sure to tell him."

GRACELAND

Paul lost all interest in the world believing Charlie was dead. He may not have pulled the trigger but he had put into place every event that had led to Rafael capturing and killing her. He lay in his bunk, only leaving it when forced. His body grew gaunt and he always sported a bruise or two from the guards who hated him for killing two of their own.

It was late morning when the guard walked into his cell, cuffed him and led him out of the cell block. Paul was so worn down he didn't even care where they were taking him; a firing squad would be preferable to how he felt.

He meekly climbed into the van they took him to and allowed himself to be cuffed to the seat without any fuss. The ride was long and hot since the back of the van did not have air conditioning. He tried to lean his head against the side and meditate, but the ride was too bumpy. By the time the van stopped, he was drenched in sweat. The door opened and the bright sunshine streamed into the dim interior. A guard released him from the seat and led him out of the van where he was handed off to another guard. He was then taken over to a different van and if he'd been paying attention he would have noticed it had California plates on it. But he was too apathetic to even care and he blindly went where he was told which was into the back of the new van where he again was handcuffed to the seat.

Another long journey commenced but at least this time the van was air conditioned though the ride was still quite bumpy. Eventually, they pulled up to a prison where, after a series of checks, they drove through the three well-fortified gates. When they stopped, two new guards escorted him into the building, down a series of halls and into a small empty room. The cuffs were removed and he was left alone. Paul glanced around the room then wearily sank to the floor. When the door opened, Paul didn't either bother looking up.

"Paul," a voice called out and for an instant, he thought it sounded like Charlie. He slowly raised his head and Charlie got her first look at his battered countenance. "My god Paul. What did they do to you," she cried as she rushed across the room and crouched in front of him.

Paul blinked to clear his eyes, not believing what he was seeing. Charlie reached out and gently stroked his cheek and Paul leaned into her touch.

"You're not dead," he croaked. "They told me you were dead."

She carefully held his head between her hands and looked him straight in the eye. "They lied. I'm fine."

He blinked at her stupidly before leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. "What are you doing in Mexico, Charlie?"

"We're not in Mexico. You are back in California. Let's get out of here and I'll tell you all about it."

Dazed and still not fully comprehending what was going on, Paul struggled to his feet and with some assistance from Charlie, left the room. Charlie led him down a hall that eventually came to an outside door where Mike was waiting for them with a car.

"Mikey," Paul croaked with a small smile.

"Good to have you back. Some vacation huh," he joked.

Paul started to sway and Mike put a supporting hand on his housemate and he and Charlie helped Briggs in the backseat of the car. Charlie climbed in beside him and Mike drove. They cleared all the gates and headed for the freeway.

"Where we going?" Paul asked after a few moments.

"Home," Mike replied.

A bit of the old Paul surfaced. "Don't lie Mike."

"We're going home... eventually... after you get checked out," he added awkwardly.

"If by checked out you mean a hospital you can stop right now. I am not going."

"But Paul, you look like hell," Charlie tried to reason with him.

"Nothing a hot shower, food and sleep won't resolve. Trust me I have suffered worse. Take me home."

Mike glanced in the rear view mirror at Charlie who nodded in agreement.

"Ok Paul. Graceland it is."

"Thanks," he said as he let his head fall wearily back against the seat. He didn't intend to, but he slept for the rest of the journey back to Graceland.

When he walked in the door, or more accurately was assisted thru the door, his remaining housemates greeted him enthusiastically, but after seeing the state he was in, quickly allowed him to go upstairs to his room.

He knew he really should take a shower, but he made the mistake of sitting on the bed which became laying, which turned to sleeping. Charlie covered him up as Paige watched from the door. "You know he is going to have to burn those sheets after sleeping in them like that," Paige remarked.

"Small price to pay," Charlie replied.

Closing the door behind them, the girls walked downstairs. "Guess you have a lot to talk about, when he recovers," Paige said.

"Yeah, I'm trying not to think about that yet. I'm just happy he's alive...so I can kill him myself," she half-joked.

There was a lot that she, and the whole house, was going to need to discuss with Briggs. Charlie had no idea what the future held for Briggs but for now she was just going to focus on the fact he was safe was enough to start.

The End