The two women heard the altercation but were locked in separate rooms, so they couldn't tell what was happening. It sounded like a fist fight and perhaps a knife fight, then suddenly men were coming through the door, to grab each of them, undo the shackles that had held them to the bedposts and hustle them off into a closed sedan. At least they were together. But what was happening...And Betty Jo was really worried when she didn't see Carmine's man at all. In fact, the men taking them were all new to her, and she was trained to observe so that meant bad news. As to where they were being taken, well, that was lost to them too, as the usual wretched smelling burlap bags hid their eyes again.

The car travelled bumpy dirt roads with few curves, but then the island was pretty much flat from what little she knew. Then they seemed to be climbing and the number of curves multiplied, so perhaps they'd reached the hills she knew existed toward the southern end of the island, no where near where the auction was supposed to take place.  Betty Jo could only hope that the sudden change was being monitored by someone.

And indeed it was.

Chance held onto the laptop with one hand and braced himself against the door of the land rover as Tobie took the next corner at speed.  With his free hand he pressed the earpiece into his ear and  called Laz.  When Laz answered he used as few words as possible.  "The've been snatched and we're following. Trevor is on his way to the site."  Laz acknowledged and instructed him to change frequencies.  In less than a minute Paul joined them on the new channel.

"Who took them?" Laz asked.

"Unknown," Chance said.  "They showed up, went in and in about fifteen minutes or less came back out with the women.  That was less than five minutes ago.  We're about a quarter of a mile back and headed south."

"We're about fifteen minutes behind, and catching up," Laz said.  Then he switched channels and called Trevor.

Trevor had men headed to the site to check out the situation. It was only a few minutes later when Trevor reported Carmine's man, and all the others, were dead.  Whoever had taken the women were competent and deadly.

"We've no idea who grabbed them," Trevor said onto the channel.  "Be careful. They took out Carmine's man and he, at least, was no amateur."

"Yeah," Laz said and relayed it back to Paul and Chance, ignoring the look Anja flashed him.

"They're heading into the mountains," Chance said a few minutes later.

"I have you on the screen," Laz said.  "According to the map there's nothing up there, not even goats."

"Must be why the road sucks," Chance said, bracing himself more firmly and steadying the laptop.  After that there was silence for a while.  Then, "looks like they're stopping," Chance reported.  "We'll get as close as we can and wait for you."

"Roger," Laz said, watching the screen.  He could see the blinking lights that were Betty Jo and Jolie slow and then wobble and then come to a stop.  He could also see the blinking lights that were Tobie and Chance slow and then start moving slowly towards the two lights that were the women.  He could picture Tobie and Chance working their way towards the women, moving slowly over the unfamiliar terrain, using night vision goggles to compensate for the pitch black night.  He was shutting down the laptop and had his gear and hers out when Anja pulled in next to the land rover.  Without a word he passed hers over and was out of the jeep, waiting while Paul and Natha joined them.  Then, navigating with a small, handheld tracking device they went the rest of the way on foot, catching up with Tobie and Chance about a quarter of a mile further up the road.

They'd cut back into the brush off the road and taken up a position on a rocky over look that provided a fairly decent view of a single story stone building.  There were faint lights showing in a thin line from the shuttered windows and a thin trail of smoke coming from a chimney on the roof.  From where he was laying, flat on his belly, he saw no power or phone lines going to the house.  They were maybe two hundred yards back and above the building and from where he was he couldn't hear a sound that didn't belong to the night.  Paul and Natha were spread out on one side and Anja on the other.  Tobie and Chance were working their way around the house, trying to get behind it.  In his ear he could hear Trevor demanding an update he wasn't prepared to provide.

Trevor had barely finished updating the Refuge when Marc, locking onto Trevor, zapped in. Carmine was on the phone with them, he was tied up with Princely things and dare not change his plans openly, but Malachi was with him and he could be zapped off to join them if necessary. It was Ian Trevor was most worried about. Ian was a lot like Marc, in that he had a temper that tended to wipe away logic when it stirred.  If he were aware that Betty Jo and Jolie were in trouble he might want to go charging in there despite the fact it could destroy everything.

Marc looked haunted, dark circles under his sunken eyes. He'd lost weight and his eyes burned with a fervor that was nearly feverish in its brilliance. "Our people are there. I'm about to contact Ian and Spence," Trevor informed him.

"Wait a bit," Marc suggested. "Let's find out what's happening, first."

Trevor didn't like it. He knew Ian would be furious he hadn't been told immediately. Spence, not a fighter, not magical or awakened, had to rely on Julian and Julian was, as Trevor well knew, off doing something else essential for at least the next few hours. So he sighed and asked again for an update from Laz.

Laz relayed the bare facts, those being all he had to offer at the moment.

Trevor turned to Marc. "I want to end the op now. I want to get them out of there now."

"No," Marc replied quietly. "They knew the risks. We know they're alive and we've got people just outside. If anything goes down they can get in there and get to them. Give it some time, Trev. Please."

And outside the house, Anja stood frozen in position, only her stillness and her tension giving away how this was affecting her.

Laz ignored it, like he was ignoring the clawing in his gut.  They were distractions.  He could hear Chance in his ear describing the rear of the building.  Other than the sounds of the night and his own breathing he couldn't hear anything else.  They'd been here about twenty minutes and it felt like forever.  According to Chance there was no way to get a look inside the building without giving themselves away.   He acknowledged softly and switched back to Trevor.

"Suggestions?" Trevor asked Laz curtly.

Laz considered the building and the site.  He ran through everything they didn't know and calculated how long until dawn.  "It'll be dawn in less than two hours.  So unless you've got a way to tell me what's inside that building besides the women, we wait if we can."  While he waited for Trevor's response he sent Anja to move the vehicles out of sight and bring up the canteens, among other things.

"No sign of any activity?" Trevor asked, just to be sure.  When Laz replied in the affirmative, Trevor sighed. "All right. We'll give it a few hours."

Laz grunted and settled in to wait.   Over the next two hours he checked in with Trevor every fifteen minutes reporting essentially no change and no news.  When the sky began to lighten with the first hint of dawn he took a swallow of water and ignored the flat, tinny taste while wishing at least one of the women was bonded to a dragon.  And as the thought flashed through his head so did another and he wanted to curse.  He switched back to Trevor and said, "Is it possible the mages could get a look inside?"

Trevor replied, "Yes. But I've been afraid to call for Ian. He's not going to be rational about things."

Laz did curse then, and bit back his first response.  "Then the sooner he finds out the sooner he can get over being irrational and start being useful," Laz said.

"He nearly killed me once when he was mildly irritated. Do we want the op to go on?" Trevor hissed back.  "You tell me.  Marc's here and is adamant it does."

"Is there another alternative?" Laz asked.  "It's that or we keep waiting or go in blind.  Can't Julian do it?  Or Malachi?  Or is Ian the only bloody mage in the universe?"

Trevor looked over at Marc. "Call Ian in," Marc said. "I'll control him."

Trevor opened his mouth and shut it with a snap. He dialed Ian's cell phone. At the terse, "yes" when Ian responded, Trevor said, "We need you."

It was only a scant second later that Ian popped in. "Situation?" Ian asked.

It was Marc who described things.

"Two hours..." Ian hissed. "You left them in there for two hours?"

"'They have the spell, they have the escape route. They've not activated either," Marc replied coolly.  "We need you to go in magically and tell us what is going on."

Ian was furious but fought for calm. I need a quiet place. Don't disturb me. Protect my body for me Trevor, while I go out of body."

Trevor nodded, and showed Ian the room where a camp bed was set up for rest periods.  Ian locked himself in, lay down on the bed and composed himself.  He murmured a spell he knew well, and sank into the familiarity of a ritual he'd done a thousand times. He refused to allow himself to feel, instead concentrating on the mechanics of leaving his body and freeing his consciousness to roam.

It hurt the way it always did, like severing a vital organ, then he was free, his mental sight looking down at his reclining body.  His spirit looked around, oriented itself, found a chink in the boards that made up the room and streaked off southwards.

He found the building and slipped in through a slight gap in the shutters and found himself in a primitive kitchen.  There was an old wood burning cook stove and a sink filled with dirty dishes that had no running water.  A half full water barrel stood next to it.  On the table that dominated the room were the remains of a meal and a man seated and drinking tea while he sharpened a knife.  He moved into the main room of the house, dimly lit, sparsely furnished and occupied only by a man asleep on a bed roll on the floor, his hand resting on an Uzi, his finger against the trigger.

He moved towards the back of the house, drawn by the sounds of movement.  The doors to the two rooms were open.  In the first three more men slept on pallets, Uzis close at hand.  In the second he found Betty Jo and Jolie, naked and half unconscious on pallets on the floor.  There were two men guarding them. They were tied spreadeagled, their bonds secured by d-rings sunk into the floor.  The sounds of movement that he'd heard were the two other men, raping them.

Quicker than a heartbeat and Ian was back in his body and zapping to the shack. Marc moved to stop him but not quickly enough, so instead zapped off after him. Trevor sent a panicked "Go!" code to Laz and his folks. By the time Marc arrived the two men who'd been raping Jolie and Betty Jo lay dead along with the two guards, and Ian had wrapped Betty Jo in his arms, tears on his cheeks.  Marc cursed, and whirled in time to send a bolt of energy into a man who'd thrown open the door and was coming in, Uzi at the ready.  He fell dead on the threshold.  Sounds of gun fire punctuated the early morning as Laz and his people moved in. It was over in a matter of seconds. Julian, with Spence in tow, zapped in only a second before healers from the Refuge arrived.

"Jolie?" Spence gasped as he dropped to his knees next to her, only barely willing to move aside for the healer there trying to see to her. He took off his coat and covered her with it.

Doni didn't even try to get Ian to move, nor did she object when he magicked up a blanket to spread over Betty Jo, she just ignored him, concentrating instead on Betty Jo.  Doni stabilized her breathing and then searched for any serious injury.  She found only bruising and contusions.  She dealt with those and then began to help Betty Jo's body clear the massive amounts of rohypnol from her blood stream.  When she surfaced finally Betty Jo was just beginning to return to consciousness.  Next to her Thea had already finished with Jolie.

Anja stood in the doorway, all the bad guys having been finished off by Laz and his group. Marc stood off to one side, his arms crossed on his chest, his face blank of emotion. Ian was holding Betty Jo, stroking her hair. Spence sat next to Jolie holding her hand, his complexion white with fear for her.

Trevor zapped in courtesy of Julian. "Christ," Trevor said, looking around at the carnage. Not merely of bodies, but of their plans.

Laz swallowed the bile that rose in his throat.  "Fish can still put them in the auction," he said his voice quiet and hoarse, a sound like a mourner at a funeral home staring at the coffin.  "If they're still willing."

"No!" Trevor said. "No," he said more quietly. "We've got to find another way."

Laz glanced at Marc and then at Jolie and Betty Jo.  The room smelled like Bangkok.  He wanted a drink and the way his gut was crawling he wasn't sure he'd keep it down.  "There isn't another way," he said.

Trevor walked over to kneel down beside Betty Jo who was coming around. "I'm so sorry we waited," was what he said, although it wasn't necessarily said to her, but perhaps more to everyone.

"No more," Ian said, glaring at Marc. "No more."

"It isn't up to you, Ian," was all Marc said, not having moved at all.

Trevor held his breath waiting for a flash of magic to shoot out at Marc. But somehow Ian held onto his temper and just looked back down at Betty Jo, who was stirring in his arms.

Her eyes fluttered and opened, the blue of the iris a match to the blue of the veins that showed under her pallor.  She looked up at Ian and her eyes clouded with confusion before closing again and reopening.  She tried to speak, her mouth working but the words kept sticking to her tongue and the only sound that made it past it was a rasping moan.

Ian held her tightly and zapped up some water for her which he held to her lips. "Don't speak. You're safe now."

Spence, still as pale as Jolie, just held her.

Betty Jo swallowed the water and then turned her head, looking over at Jolie who was still unconscious.  Then she shifted, sitting up in Ian's arms, taking in the others.  She cleared her throat and tried again to make her mouth work, the result a barely audible, "What happened?"

"You were drugged, and you and Jolie were.." Ian's voice cracked.

"You were raped," Marc finished, from where he stood watching over them all. "Trevor wants to end the op."

Betty Jo jerked, her eyes opening wide.   Then she felt a tremor start from somewhere inside and she clenched her jaw hard, willing it to stop.  When she was sure it was safe to move again she looked over again at Jolie who was starting to stir.  "It's not his call," she said, measuring out each word before she said the next.

"Can we get them out of here," Spencer said, his eyes hard, staring at Marc. With a nod, Marc zapped all of them back to the infirmary at the Refuge. He was so charged up from the use of his coffin he didn't even have to break into a sweat to do it.

Betty Jo looked up at Ian who hadn't let go of her and tried to smile at him.  She knew from the way her mouth reacted that she hadn't succeeded so she resorted to words again.  "I'm okay," she said, speaking to the question turning in his eyes.

"And I'll make sure you and Jolie stay that way. No more," Ian replied. "You did enough. We'll find another way."

She shook her head and looked at Marc.  "There isn't another way.  If we give up, we're giving up on Dinah and Jolie won't do that."

"There has to be another way," Ian insisted. "Look at her, Betty Jo. She's not .. She's not trained for this."

"I know," she said.  "Which is why if she won't give up I can't either."

Ian groaned.

"Jolie," Spence was saying to her. "Honey? You're safe now."

She opened her eyes.  "Sp...Spence?"

Spencer let out the breath he'd been afraid to exhale. He managed a smile. "Things kinda went south. They pulled you out. We're back at the Refuge."

She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears.  "No," she whispered.

"Honey, I... Please... There's only so much you can do.."

She glanced up and saw Marc leaning against a wall watching them.  Then she looked around and found Betty Jo before she met Spencer's eyes.  "I have to," she whispered, her voice breaking on a sob.  "I'm sorry but I have to."

Trevor was nearby listening to the comm in his ear, but he heard her. Marc smiled at her.  Laz left the room without a word while Betty Jo turned and buried her face against Ian's neck.  Jolie never took her eyes off Spencer.  "Please," she said, her mouth trembling, her hands griping his arm.  "I...Spence..."

Spence just wrapped her in his arms more tightly and nodded, too miserable for words.

Anja, standing off in a corner, turned green and headed outside for fresh air.

They met again in Stephen's office a few hours later.  Trevor, Marc, Laszlo, Carmine, Ian, Spence and of course Stephen.  The two women were resting. Betty Jo had wanted to attend to argue her case. Jolie had said there was no case, she was doing it no matter what they all said.

"Here's what we know," Trevor began, having gotten all the intel together. "The men who killed your man, Carmine, and the others were hoping to sell the women at the auction themselves. I doubt they'll be missed, and we can merely put it around that Fish's men killed them for the attempt and decided to hide the women until the last moment to forestall additional attempts to steal them.

"From what I've seen Jolie won't be talked out of going on with this, although she is terrified. Betty Jo won't give it up so long as Jolie won't. Marc is in favor of continuing on. " Marc indicated affirmatively at this point.  "Spence," Trevor said, meeting that young man's eyes, "feels he cannot demand Jolie stop.  Ian is vocally against continuing on.  Carmine?"

"I do not like it, Caro Trevor. Still, it seems to be the only way we have at this point, no?  Julian was here earlier and said he can change the spell to be effective even if they are unconscious. Which might help us all to deal with things."

Stephen made a noise indicative of neutrality.  "What's your opinion, Trevor?"

"If it were Maggie, I'd lock her in a cell and sit on her."

"If it were Doni I would too," Stephen said.  "Laz?"

Laz stirred in the corner where he was leaning against the wall.  "I actually polled the others on this one.  None of us like it but if they're willing the consensus is to keep going, absent any other viable alternative, or not only will they have been raped for nothing, but Dinah will probably die."

Trevor nodded miserably. "Ian?" he asked.

The English mage had been standing by the windows looking out over the peace of the Refuge. At the question he glanced over at Marc and the two shared looks which made quite a few of the others uncomfortable.  Finally Ian said, "I'm reminded I have no say in the matter."

"Well, now that we're all clear on that," Stephen said, "I'd like to hear your perspective."

"My perspective is that unless we have someone connected to them mentally at all times it is criminal," Ian replied.

"Is that possible?" Stephen asked. "Magically, I mean?"

"I know several mages who can go out of body and watch over things. I cannot do it alone however. I could, perhaps, set up a way to talk mentally with Betty Jo at certain intervals to insure she is all right."

"Trevor?" Stephen said.

Trevor ran a hand through his hair, thinking hard. "Okay, so let's do this. Set up some way they can check in with us periodically. If they miss a check-in, Ian can go out-of-body and have a look see. They still have the laughing spell, which Julian is trying to alter so it works even if they are unconscious. And they have the emergency extract thing. How does all this sound for everyone. Spence?" Trevor asked putting a hand on the young man's shoulder.

"I.. She's ready to go regardless. Me, I'm not sure anything can make me feel better about it at this point."  Spencer's voice revealed his profound mental exhaustion.

"I know," Trevor replied.

Marc opened his mouth as if to say something but decided to remain silent instead. He closed his eyes and stayed as he was.

Laz nodded.  "I good with it.  We can test it out between now and the auction and use the auction itself for a run through in public as it were."

"So, we only need to put them back in place and re-set up our network," Trevor concluded, looking around the room at everyone.

"We stage Fish's men going to the house and taking them back," Laz said.  "Then we put them someplace secure for the next forty eight hours.  After that Fish's men move them to the auction site and we go from there.  And the sooner we get them back there the better.  Carmine, how long will it take with Fish to get set up?"

"He needs 6 hours in Oman,and an hour only before the auction itself."

"So in six hours we fake an assault on the house, leaving it, I think, in flames just in case and hand the women back over to Fish's men.  Who will you put with them?" Laz asked.

"I will arrange for some men who owe me a great deal to hold them.  They will not touch the women, this I promise you," Carmine said, looking at Spencer first and then at Ian.

Laz lifted his shoulders from the wall, pulling his cellphone out.  "Okay, I'll get started setting up the assault," he said when neither man responded.  "We'll need a place in Oman to stash them, or do you already have one in mind?"

"Fish has told me of a cheap hotel in the town near the auction. I will have my vampires there tonight to make it secure. Things will be in place when you need it," Carmine replied.

Laz nodded and headed for the door.  "I'll be in touch.  If you need me let Trevor know," he said.  Then he met Marc's eyes for a moment and was gone.

While the men were in their meeting, no women in there to say a word of protest, Anja re-entered the infirmary and sat with Betty Jo and Jolie, both of whom were feeling considerably better but being kept there mainly to build up their strength and wait for whatever decisions were being arrived at.

Anja met first Betty Jo's eyes and then Jolie's. "You are both feeling.. better?"

Betty Jo and Jolie were sitting next to each other, legs tucked up under them, proximity being a measure of comfort.  Betty Jo smiled.  "Better is a very relative term.  At the moment I'm just feeling tired.  As you must be," she added.

"I am terrified for you but honor your decision," Anja said quietly.

"Terror is going around these days, I guess," Jolie said, looking up at her.

"I understand, perhaps better than you know," Anja replied, coloring. "It helps me. Fear I mean. It can be a powerful and useful tool.  It also helps me to remember that I am the only person who can truly humiliate me. Others, no matter what they might do to my body, cannot change or touch what I am. That is what I hold to when I am terrified."

"Well,"  Betty Jo said, "an advantage of being drugged is that you don't remember the details, a fact that makes me very grateful.  So long, anyway, as I don't let my imagination try to supply some."  She looked at Jolie and rubbed a comforting hand along her arm.

"I was just thinking," Jolie said after a long moment, not looking up, "that people are more afraid for us than we are for ourselves, if that makes sense.  I mean, I've never been so scared but I don't have to sit around and wait like Spence has to or Ian."  She glanced at Anja and then dropped her eyes again.  "They're the brave ones.  I just wish there was someway to make it easier for them, for Spence."

"He hates it that you are in danger. He loves you. It is natural. I wish that you could make it easier for him. And that Betty Jo could for Ian. And that we all could for Marc," Anja agreed. "I think the only way is to get Dinah home safely.  I have nightmares about Marc, about his own terror and how he must just go on and do what he has to day after day.  I do not for Dinah, because.. because I know she is fighting with all her strength to get through this, and knows we are coming to get her."

"Yeah," Jolie said.  "She's probably mouthing off to him.  Just to prove she's not scared."

"But she is afraid. Terrified, I'm sure. It is how she deals with it.  And you don't have that luxury since you are forced to appear docile and compliant," Anja pointed out. "A far harder thing to do, I think. At least it was for me."

"Docile and compliant is certainly safer," Betty Jo said.  "In most cases anyway.  I can't picture Dinah as docile or compliant, though, ya'know?"

Jolie smiled.  "Nope, never happen."

Anja shrugged. "We do what we must to survive. And to gain our objectives. In this case, finding Dinah and bringing her and her children home safely."  There was noise in the infirmary and movement. "Ah.  The meeting is over. I suspect Spence and Ian want to see you. Please, just know we are with you at every step," Anja said as she let herself out of the room.

"Thank you," Jolie said.  When Anja was gone she went and leaned back against the door and looked back at Betty Jo.  "I know that if it weren't for me you wouldn't be in this."

Betty Jo drew Jolie into a tight hug.  "Don't go feeling guilty about me, honey.  If I didn't want to do this I wouldn't be here."

Jolie blew her nose hard and tried to smile.  "You and Dinah.  You're a lot alike.  Independent as hell."

"Likely why we both like you so much," Betty Jo said.  "You ready for this?  "Cause they'll be in here in a second."

Jolie blew her nose again and wiped her eyes.  "Doesn't matter if I am or not," she replied as the door opened.

Spence was the first one through the door. He looked at Jolie's empty bed and panic filled his eyes for a second. Then when he saw her standing nearby he relaxed and found a smile. "Hey," he said.

Jolie slipped into his arms and stayed there, her head tucked into the curve of his throat.  "Hey yourself," she said, as the door closed behind Betty Jo.

"They spent the time trying to figure out how to go on. And how to try to keep you two ... safer. They've got a plan."

"That's nice," Jolie said, her voice muffled.  "What's your plan?"

"My plan?" he asked, after he'd swallowed. "Uhm, keeping busy. Trying to remember what a smart and wise woman you are."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.  I hate what I'm putting you through."

"Uhm, it hardly compares, Jolie. I'm just.. you know, doing the usual thing. You're the one in danger."

"It does compare," she said, her arms tightening.  "It does.  You're miserable, worried to death.  I bet you haven't been able to concentrate to read since I left."

"I'm fine. Don't you worry about me, okay? You just remember that I'm gonna be really, really mad at you if you aren't careful."

"All I have to do is go with the flow.  I keep pretending I'm an intern again and it's no problem at all."

Spence laughed, with just the slightest edge of panic in it. "It really was that bad?  Being an intern I mean."

"Worse," she confided.  "Much worse.  Here there's no pop quizzes during rounds, no competition and no grades."

He grinned.  And ran his hand down her arm, as if just needing to touch her, feel her. "You really do need to do this, don't you."

"Yes," she said.  "Dinah and me...we just sort of found each other when we were both five years old, the first time we rode the bus to kindergarten.  It was like, I don't know, like we were twins separated at birth or something, we just fit together so well.  Even when we disagreed or got mad at each other...it's like we were part of each other.  And there's never been a time since that day when we weren't there for each other, no matter what."

He nodded. "Yeah. You've gotta do it then."

She pressed close to him again.  "The only thing I mind about all this, about doing this, is what it's doing to you.  I love you so much, I'd do anything to make it easier...all you have to do is tell me."

"Just come home safe with Dinah. That's all you can do. I'll be fine. I promise."

"You better be," she said.  "I'll be really mad if you aren't."

He managed to laugh. "So, I'll plan our vacation for afterwards shall I?  Hawaii?"

"Wherever you want.  As long as I've got you all to myself."

"Maybe some ski resort where we get snowed in. Just us."

"Just us," she repeated.  "Now do you remember how to kiss me?"

He showed her that he did.

Meanwhile Betty Jo had walked out into the infirmary proper to find Ian coming through the door in search of her.  "Hi," he said as he walked up to her. He stopped about half a foot away and just looked at her, head to toe, making no move to touch her.

She allowed him the distance.  "Hi," she said back, making no effort to hide the inventory she making of him, or the care she was taking to make it complete.

"You're still determined to go through with this?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"All right. Then we need to spend some time together. I think I can set up a magical link, where I can contact you or you me, at specific intervals. If you miss a check in, I can do what I did earlier. Go out-of-body to see what is happening and we can get you out if we have to."

"Okay.  But tell me, is that the only reason we need to spend some time together?"

"I... I'm afraid if I touch you I won't let you go through with it."

"How about if I touch you?"

"Jesus, Betty Jo, you expect miracles from people."

She flinched and stepped back.  "I apologize for not understanding.  I guess...what do I need to do so this link can be set up?"

Ian turned then and put his fist through the wall.

She fled.

Ian turned around and with his back to the wall sank down to sit on the floor, his head in his hands.

Betty Jo had no clue where she was going. She just knew she wanted to be out of there now. She ran out of the Infirmary and headed down the hallway toward the offices, looking for somewhere she could get herself together.  A side door opened and Leroy, wrapped for the winter weather, stepped through it. Next thing he knew Betty Jo was in his arms. He didn't even have a chance to get his gloves off.

"Hey," he said gently, as her head was buried in his shoulder. "What's wrong? This coat is cold, let me get rid of it." He zapped it away and then his gloves and wrapped both arms around her. She was shivering.  He steered the two of them into the nearest office and just hung onto her, patting her a bit awkwardly on the shoulder as he whispered, "Hey. It's okay. Tell me what's going on."

She couldn't explain it to him because she didn't understand it herself.  She shook her head against his shoulder and let the tears come.

"Okay, never mind," he said and just held her.  "Ian not taking things too well?" he asked after a few minutes.

She lifted her head enough to wipe her eyes.  "I don't know," she wailed.  "All of a sudden...I mean he's afraid to touch me and there's this wall and I don't know."

"Ah, I see," Leroy shook his head sagely.

"Well I don't," she said, the tears starting again.

"He's the one who saw what was happening to you.  I bet he can't get it out of his head. And, well, having to agree to let you go back where he's afraid it will happen again. It's not an easy thing, you know."

Betty Jo went from flushed to pale under the tears.  "He...he saw them...me?  The...what happened?"

"So I understand it," Leroy replied. "They were worried about you and he kinda left his body behind to go in to check on you."

"Oh Jesus," she said.  "oh God...Leroy now what am I gonna do?"

"He'll be fine. You just worry about what you've got to do. He's kinda, you know, in love with you and it goes against the grain to just stand aside and let you risk your life, you know?"

Meanwhile Julian came sauntering into the infirmary. Ian was just getting up from the floor. Julian's eyes took in his state and the hole in the wall and tsk'ed. "Oh, nice, Ian. Make the woman feel loved, you do."

"Oh shut up and go away," Ian hissed at him.

"I know," Julian replied quietly. "Really I do. Still..."

"Listen. She's afraid of me now."

"Yeah, right," Julian scoffed.

"Anyway," Ian continued, ignoring the interruption, "I was going to set up a link so we could check with her, and vice versa, like at regular intervals. And if they missed a check in, then, well, then we'd go in and get them."

Julian frowned thinking about it. "Yeah. Not a bad idea."

"Would you do it? I don't think she wants me in her head right now."

Julian eyed the English magician with a raised eyebrow. "Of course I'll do it. If that's what she wants."

"Yeah, that goes without saying," Ian replied. "If that's what she wants."

"Okay, where is she?" Julian asked.

Ian waved vaguely. "Around. Somewhere."

Julian with a shake of his head went off searching for Betty Jo.

He found her heading back to the infirmary with Leroy.  "Spence is with Jolie, in the infirmary," she told him.

"Well, I'm looking for you. Leroy, can you let me have a little privacy with Betty Jo?"

Leroy looked from one to the other. "Okay, I guess. Scream if you need me to whack 'em, BJ."

She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.  "Thanks, bro."

Leroy rubbed his cheek. "Yuck, girl cooties," he said then grinned and walked away.

Julian eyed her for a moment and then they headed into a waiting room. "So," Julian said, flopping down into a comfortable chair. "What's up with you and the mad magician?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, he put a hole in a wall, and you've got tear-stained cheeks. Rather telling that. Or are you and Leroy an item these days?"

"He...he needs some space," she said, her voice small.  "After what happened, you know."

"Hmmm.  Well, you gotta admit, he's emotionally involved and can't do a damn thing except sit around on his duff and worry."

"Yeah, I gotta admit that," Betty Jo said.  "What's he got to admit?"

"That it is your decision and he has to let you do it," Julian answered. "He's not used to being emotionally involved, you know. Keeps cool, does our Ian. No emotional involvements, that's his plan to get through life."

"Why?  Why's he so afraid of getting involved?"

"Feels vulnerable. Blames himself for his wife's death. Is afraid if he has a relationship that puts his enemies on notice that he's got a weakness. And he's got a load of enemies.  As do most of us who've been around awhile, I might add."  Julian frowned. "Some have good reason to hate him."

"I never supposed he was what you might call a nice man, Julian."

"That's a good thing, Betty Jo. An interesting thing too. Why is that?"

She rolled her eyes.  "Because I didn't fall off the turnip truck yesterday, because daddy's not a nice a man, because I work or worked in law enforcement, because he's defensive as hell, because he expects people to not like him and has convinced himself he doesn't care, because I'm a smart girl who pays attention...and all those things made it plain that he's a dead on honorable man who has his own set of ethics and those aren't necessarily yours or mine."

Julian whistled.  "Pretty damn spot on. I'm impressed.  And you're a good woman, who ought to fall for a good man, who'll keep her safe and love her and give her babies and live happy ever after and grow old with her."

"No, which proves you don't know me at all.  I'm just like my mother.  I don't want a nice man, or a good man.  They're boring, they're vanilla and wonder bread, and missionary position.  I want a man who'll make my toes curl, my thighs sweat and force me to use my brain and work at it.  One who'll challenge every part of me, who couldn't care less about my looks but who can't keep his hands off of me and likes that he can't."

Julian laughed, then said, "I said you OUGHT, I didn't say you did. So, let's get you through this operation and worry about you making up with Ian afterwards. He asked me to set a magical link up with you. You want one with Ian too?"

"Too?"

"Too. As in both. As in I'll set it up and I can fix it so if you want to, or he wants to, you could, uhm, attempt some sort of half-ass communication.  I'm not saying you'll understand one another, but it might make him feel better to know you're okay."

"Please," she said.  "Though I'd like it on the record that I'm not the reason the communication is half-assed.  What did he say to you?"

"He said he was madly in love with you and he wants to give you his child."

"I see.  How does Nimue stand you?"

Julian smiled winningly. "Because I pout so beautifully. Now sit still and let me see what I can do about this magical connection thingie."

She sat still.

She felt a gentle touch in her mind and lost track of time for awhile. Then she heard his voice in her head. -There. How's that?  Too loud? Just for the record, I don't think Adele would like it if Ian gave her to you.-"

"-That's good, 'cause I don't want him too,-" she said and realized she hadn't spoken aloud.

"Just think of me or Ian and you should feel a connection. We'll do the same with you," Julian explained. "You're done. Now, why don't you go find that bloody Brit and give him a good solid kick in the knickers."

"What makes you think he'd benefit from it?"

Julian grinned. "I was thinking it might benefit you, sweet lady."  He was laughing as he got up and walked away.

Betty Jo watched him go and decided Nimue could keep him.  She realized as Julian disappeared from sight she had no idea what she should be doing, if anything, or what they'd decided.  The door to Jolie's room was shut and she figured Spence was with her.  All in all that was probably the best thing for her right now.  The question was what was the best thing for her?  Absent other information or access to a bar she decided a cup of coffee would have to suffice.  Unless the Refuge cafeteria excelled in tea making.

Betty Jo saw the little tin pots and the Lipton tea bags and headed over to the coffee bar, getting a triple shot latte.  Her sisters would have made warning noises if they'd known she'd had them make it with half and half and then asked for chocolate syrup and topped it off with real sugar.  She took a sip and smiled.  Things weren't great but they were looking up.

She turned to find a seat and felt someone watching her. It was Ian. He was sitting at a table near the windows noticeably alone. He waved at the seat opposite him, indicating she was invited to join him if she liked.  The walk across the room to the table felt like it was a hundred miles long. She sat and found, somewhere, a smile.  "Hi."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Me too," she said.

"I, uhm, it's been a long time since I cared for anyone. I'm a bit old-fashioned about that sort of thing."

"Old-fashioned as in protective?"

"Amongst other things, yes.  And sending you back there..." his voice faded away.

She looked at the cup warming her hands.  "I didn't know you'd seen what happened.  I didn't understand."

"We should have been more careful. We're idiots."

"If you were omniscient, perhaps."

He shrugged, looking down at his cup.

"Ian, honey...don't blame yourself, don't go there."  She wanted to touch him and didn't dare.  "Julian set up the link," she offered, having nothing else she could give him.  "So that it works between you and me as well as with him."

He looked up at that. "You agreed to that?"

"Yes.  Only I don't know when I'm supposed to check in or if the only time I can use it is for official business."

His lips twitched. "Who's going to know?"

"I don't know," she said.  "You're the expert."

"I'll encrypt our conversations, how's that."

She laughed.  "128-bit or higher, please.  And when am I supposed to check in?"

"Say every four hours, or more often if things are changing.  You can always shout if you need us sooner, or let us know you won't be able to check in on time."

"What else did you all decide?"

"We know it is your decision. Yours and Jolie's. We're going to put you back and I expect Carmine is selecting men to watch over you who know what he will do to them if anything happens to either of you."

She drank some of her latte watching him from under her lashes.  "When, do you know?"

"In about five hours," he replied quietly.

She looked at him then.  "Three hundred minutes."

"You should rest," he said. "You've got an ordeal ahead of you."

"I'll have lots of time to rest in Oman," she said.  "To rest and count the minutes in four hours."

"Or two, or one, if it will help to hear from us more often," he replied quietly. Then, "Tell me how I can help you."

She thought about it for a while.  "I don't know.  I can't ask you to not worry or not be afraid for me.  I know there are parts of this we haven't gotten to yet where it's going to be hard for both of us- probably more hard for you than me - and I can't do anything about that either.  But knowing you're just a thought away...that's more help than you know."

He reached out for her hand but hesitated a second, meeting her eyes. "Betty Jo... I'll never forgive you if you don't yell when you need me."

She gripped his hand tight.  "I know and I will, believe me."

"And no being a hero," he added, meeting her eyes.

"I'm never a hero, I look terrible in medals."

He smiled. "Hard to believe you look terrible in anything."

"It's true," she said, lifting her hand in the Boy Scout salute, "swear to god.  Puce is problematic as well."

"Hmmm. I looked wretched in frills, so I do have some sympathy."

Angus McNeill put down the newspaper and laughed to himself.  He found it hilarious that his picture was spread across every paper from here to kingdom come in an effort to find him.  He was less amused by the million dollar reward and gave some thought to trying to find a way to collect it himself since the terms were any information leading to his whereabouts, not his capture.  He was inclined to think he could pull it off and was revolving different ideas about how through his mind when he finished his breakfast and left the dining room, totally ignoring the woman who had been hovering, ready to serve him however he wished.  The woman let out her breath and moved swiftly, clearing his place and returning the room to its usual immaculate condition.

McNeill dropped the paper on his desk and then pushed a button on the underside of it.  Across the room a bookcase slowly began moving away from the wall revealing a door.  He keyed in a combination, gave the sensor a retinal scan and then a voice print.  When he was finished he opened the door and stepped into an elevator, where he punched in another code into another key pad and then pressed a series of buttons to get the elevator to move.  It than took him five stories straight down.  When he got off the elevator he locked the control panel and headed down the hall, ignoring the sounds that came from behind the closed doors....sounds of fear and loneliness and despair...pleading voices that begged not for freedom but for the sight of another human being...freedom was a hope long extinguished and all that was left behind was a prayer for some small kindness for their children and sometimes themselves.  He ignored as well the guards that watched each cell on CCTV, the monitors that showed the status of the equipment that dampened all -pathic abilities and would sound an alarm if any not matching his own brain waves occurred.

At the far end of the hall he keyed open another door, providing a retinal image and a voice print and made sure it closed after him.  Here was where he kept his special prizes, in the cells that lined the right hand side of the corridor.  On the other side was the exam and delivery room, and the nursery where the babies were kept for so long as he allowed them to live.  And at the very end was a very special room with a very special guest.  Thinking about her made him almost quiver with pleasure.  Not because she was pregnant, but because she was so unique and she was his daughter, stolen from him when she was child and now snatched back to serve the purpose for which he'd bred her in the first place.

He'd already harvested her genes and taken samples of the embryonic fluid from each fetus.  He'd almost gloated over what he'd found, as he'd seen the unique sequences in all three helices.  He'd fantasized about them as he'd lain in bed last night, playing with himself.  He planned to harvest the eggs from her ovaries after she delivered, mating them with his own sperm, certain that such a breeding would produce the result he sought.  But now he felt a need to talk to her, to let her know who he was, to force her to acknowledge him and his genius.  He was smiling, just thinking about it, as he unlocked the door.  But that would be after she explained how she'd gotten her ovaries back and where the gene strands he'd seen in her helix had come from.

She should be coming around about now, he thought, since he'd ordered the injection to counteract the drugs he was using to keep her unconscious over an hour ago.  He was gratified to see she was stirring as he took a seat across from her, far enough away so she couldn't reach him from where she was restrained to the bed.  He waited while her eyes fluttered open and she looked around blankly, not knowing where she was or what had happened.  He saw her hand go automatically to her belly, rubbing the bulge of it while her expression shifted and, he surmised, she checked on the state of her fetuses.  He wondered idly as he watched her what he was going to do with the brats when they born, since except for their genes and the stem cells he would harvest he had no interest in them at all given their parentage didn't include him directly.

Eventually she shifted her eyes to him and shock flared in the sea green that was so like her mother's.  Then she tried to sit up and moaned as her hand went to her head, holding it as if she were in pain.  He frowned for a moment and then remembered how he'd had to hit her when he took her from the hotel.  "My darling daughter Dinah," he said to her as she let go of her head and gave him her attention again.  "Sorry about the cosh on the head, but it was necessary.  I do so loathe violence, unnecessary violence, that is.  When it's necessary well, it's necessary."

Dinah squinted at him, like she was trying to understand what he'd just said to her, as indeed she was.  But her head was spinning and her vision was kind of funny and she couldn't seem to think through the cotton wool that was engulfing her head. Eventually he must have understood some of her trouble because he brought her a paper cup filled with water and moved out of range again.  She drank it all, the moisture on her throat and the taste of it in her mouth the sum of all her desires.  Then she tried to move the cotton wool away as she replayed his greeting.  She heard again the word daughter and then blanched as it registered.  "You're Angus McNeill?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, and cracking from disuse.  It never even occurred to her to refer to him as her father.

"The light dawns," he commented, a slight grin on his face as he saw fear flare in her eyes. He liked fear. She should be afraid of him, it was only right. Because of anyone, she had to know him best. She was of him, after all. A depth of connection he had with so few.

Her eyes flickered around, trying to imagine where she was.

"Not to worry, darling. No rescuer will be coming. This will be the last view you have, and my hand will be the last one that touches you."

"Still as full of delusions as always, I see,"  she said, casually mocking him as she continued to take stock of her situation and trying to ignore her fear.  She felt like her mind was all packed up tight and not available for work.  "It really is too bad your father didn't let you have the chemistry set when you were younger."

He laughed delightedly. "Well, at least you show a tiny bit of spunk. Entirely unlike your mother,  I might add."

"Ah so you've relabeled her boredom with you as a lack of spunk, have you?  Well denial's denial. no matter the form," she told him disdainfully.  Then she looked him up and down, frankly appraising him. "And you are a pretty unexciting specimen aren't you?" She brought her eyes to his as she said it, keeping her face carefully blank of all emotion except scorn.  The fear and the rising panic that she couldn't use her mind she shoved firmly to the rear.

She'd scored a hit, but now began to wonder if that had been wise. His eyes flared with anger, and he leaned toward her. "So tell me how your ovaries were repaired. I'd made quite sure they were useless, as useless as the rest of you."

She shrugged.  "No idea.  Spontaneous regeneration maybe?  Or, as is more likely, you just screwed it up like you do everything else."

His hand went back and then he flat handed her on the side of her face, whiplashing her neck around, and leaving blood on her lips where her teeth had been driven into them.  "You'll tell me everything. One way or another."

She wiped the blood of her mouth, leaving a smear across the back of her hand and just grinned at him.  "Did it make you hard?" she asked. "Mother always said you had such trouble in that area she was surprised you ever got her pregnant."

"And what feckless excuse for a man got you pregnant?''

"One who could keep it up all night long.  Kindda makes you wistful, doesn't it, for what's dead and should be buried.  But no worries, I'll introduce you to him when he gets here and he can tell you what it's like before he kills you."

His hand went back again, and this time it was harder. Blood flew from her mouth and her head snapped back to slam into the wall behind her. Blackness swallowed her.  Her last thought as she went under was Marc's name, a scream in her mind that contained all she felt.

He started to swear when he realized she was unconscious and then stopped himself.  She'd wake up again, and it wasn't like she was going anywhere anytime soon.

They were set up in in Oman but it would be two days yet before the auction. They were monitoring Betty Jo and Jolie and so far so good. Apparently the fact that Carmine's man didn't screw around and had slit someone's throat along the way had convinced the others who'd brought them to the auction that the merchandise was off limits to the likes of them.

Trevor's operation was efficient and reassuring, at least so far as it went. If only they had a clue about where Dinah was, Marc wouldn't be hovering over Trevor's shoulder, reviewing the readouts every two minutes. The man needed rest and a tranquillizer, Trevor thought for the hundredth time.

"Marc, will you go... I don't know. Go see Christopher who's having a fit you're gone too,"  Trevor suggested. "Hell, go surfing!"

Marc just looked at Trevor with haunted eyes and Trevor shut up. Despite his irritation with Marc, he really did understand and suspected he'd be no less driven if it were Maggie.

Marc, meanwhile was struggling just to keep sane enough not to follow the slightest hope of her, rather than a real trail. He wanted to kill, and if he didn't have Angus McNeill in his hands to rip apart almost anyone else would do.

He frightened himself at this point, because he'd come right back into Abaddon, the personality that had ripped worlds apart and killed millions. He knew he was there. If he found Angus and thought he'd killed Dinah, then there would be nothing left of anyone within miles of Angus, including any of their own people. He felt the volcano that was his insides and knew that once he let it loose there'd be no stopping it. Despite having begun to believe he'd changed, as oh so many people had assured him he had, that basic streak of violence was still there and all it took was something like this to bring it up to the surface, and reignite the passion and the power that was fueled by fury.  All he needed to do was lift a finger. He wouldn't need Stephen now, he could grab every bit of power, steal minds, coerce them into doing as he bid, and use them in a metaconcert to blow the whole bloody planet to kingdom come which was all it deserved if it grew men like this. The universe wouldn't miss them at all.

He passed a hand over his eyes, trying to stop the thoughts of destruction and death that were haunting his every waking moment. Even Christopher was afraid of him at this point, and well he should be because he'd yank Christopher's mind and those of Doni's twins and add them into the death ray he already had shaped in his mind.

He sank down into a chair, and put his head down into his hands. Trevor was reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder, asking him if he were all right - as if there was any way in hell or heaven he'd be all right at this moment, when he heard her.

His head came up and he screamed aloud, not even realizing he was doing it as he sent his mind streaming out into the universe after the bare secondary bit of desperate call she'd managed to send. His mind tore across the planet, from the deserts of Oman northward and eastward, ripping through minds along the way, heedless of the damage he might do searching for the trail that that thought had left.

It was only the tranquillizer Trevor finally stuck in him several hours later, that stopped him from searching for forever.