It wasn't the noise that woke him; it was the intense vibrations of another helicopter landing. A check on the wall clock advised he'd slept only four hours. It was enough. Every sense snapped to instant alert. Then he heard voices, raging anger was obvious. They had discovered the damage to their greenhouse.

Tyler attempted to distinguish one voice from another. He counted four, but there well could have been more. They were coming this way, fast. He reached across and woke Jess. There wasn't time to warn Arthur and Kenni. The attackers were too close. Fear swept over him, He was unarmed. He had wasted his last four rounds firing into the ground on the golf course. Calin Roberts would never have acted in such a frivolous fashion. Nor would he have slept through the sound of an approaching aircraft. Where was Calin when he needed him? Then Tyler heard the sound of salvation, the slide of a window opening.

***

The sun hadn't yet appeared over the horizon but the darkness of night had yielded to the nearness of morning. Arthur watched the helicopter set down and then, from the sparseness of his bedroom, observed the panicked response of the arrivals as they discovered the de-walling of their garden.

Their every action reinforced Arthur's assessment, they weren't soldiers they were hired thugs. They lacked in discipline and reacted in anger. Their voices grew in volume and intensity. Violence assumed control. The muscleman led the way as they charged for the house. Arthur slipped through the window, Kenni followed. It was two against four. Arthur drew comfort; with surprise on his side two against one was almost an advantage.

He smiled on seeing their first mistake. They had left the helicopter unmanned. Their second error was even worse. All four charged into the house, they left no back-up.

***

The door burst open. Their hostility didn't concern Tyler, their lack of control did. They didn't talk, they screamed, all four simultaneously, panic and rage combined. There was no leader, no plan, just fear and hate. Fear of the men whose greenhouse had been sabotaged and hate for those who had inflicted the damage.

Tyler knew a gun in a sane hand was dangerous but when in the hand of a madman the same weapon had the potential to reduce a target's life expectancy to a single heartbeat. He experienced the helplessness of a prisoner facing a firing squad. It was too late for words and too late for begging. The countdown to execution had commenced. Where was Arthur? Had he and the police woman, he couldn't recall her name, been taken out?

His eyes found Jess, they sought her forgiveness. A woman's scream shattered the silence, it came from outside. Two of the gunman turned in the direction of the sound. Their foreheads caved in, victims of a head clash with a Police bullet. Their colleagues fell forward, blood spurting from the back of their skulls.

"What were you waiting for?" asked Tyler, relief apparent in his voice.

"Wanted to see how good Calin Roberts was under pressure," Arthur answered.


*


Jess's crying bordered on hysterical. All logic surrendered in the face of reality. Four people were dead and she was an accessory to the killing.

Circumstances no longer mattered. Her every thought centred on the image her brain would carry to her death. The twin sights of a face exploding, and the spray of the victim's brain and blood erupting from the back of the skull. She wanted to throw up but her stomach refused to cooperate.

She pushed Tyler away; she wanted nothing to do with him. Again he'd reverted to Calin Roberts, a man who placed no value on life. The fact he'd taken no part in the shooting was irrelevant. It was his lifestyle. Death would have been preferable to the guilt and memory she knew she'd be burdened with forever.

Jess heard a voice, but the words were incomprehensible. Who was talking to her? Calin had stepped aside and a woman came forward. Who was she? She carried a gun, a weapon she'd just unloaded into the heads of two of the men on the floor.

The slap on her face stunned her. The deliverer of the slap was female and calling her name. "Jess, Jess, it's all right." Calin, or was it Tyler again embraced her. Jess wanted to strike back but she had no energy. She wanted to push him away but she needed support to remain on her feet. And the crying wouldn't stop.

Then she heard someone singing, she'd heard the words before.

Go to sleep, go to sleep
Go to sleep little girl
Go to sleep, go to sleep
My precious white pearl

She wrapped her arms around Tyler and tried to speak. She managed only two words. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Jess." Kenni was the first to respond. She reached across and planted a kiss on Jess's cheek. "And I'm the one who should apologise." Jess shook her head and broke away from Tyler's embrace. She then reached out with her hand, the police woman held it.


Arthur had taken no part in the conversation. Ever the professional he'd turned his attention to those on the floor. All four were beyond help. He then scooped up the weapons. Finally, he looked to his companions and rated their performances for future battle. Kenni had been superb, her marksmanship first class. She'd also displayed initiative and authority in controlling the hysterics of Jess.

In contrast, Jess had buckled under pressure. While it was understandable, it highlighted the obvious; she didn't possess the necessary skills for whatever lay ahead. She would be retired from further action. She was the weak link.
During the helicopter flight with the General Arthur had read and studied every Calin Roberts mission report. Tyler had become his idol. He was fearless, flawless in his thinking and planning, ice cold under pressure and a ruthless killing machine, the perfect Calin Roberts. But now Tyler disappointed him, the legend had failed.

He had allowed himself to become emotionally involved with someone. The obvious had become apparent; he had fallen in love with Jess. He now had an Achilles heel, a weakness the enemy could, and would exploit. Her presence reduced his focus. Calin Roberts survived by maintaining a single minded determination, one man, one task. Every external influence was eliminated. It had to be.
They needed to talk. It wouldn't though be a conversation; it would develop into a heated argument. But it had to be done. Survival demanded tough decisions. And there was no time for procrastination.

"Guys," said Arthur. "It's time we started facing facts. Are you up to joining the discussion, Jess?" She nodded.

"Before we go anywhere," said Tyler. "I think we should lay some ground rules." His tone suggested he'd read the mind of Arthur. "And the first rule is this. The minute anyone wants to leave, they go. And the second is the reverse of the first; nobody is forced out against their own wishes. If this is unacceptable, I'll walk out now."

"Not on your own, you won't." The voice was scratchy, but the determination undeniable. She had pulled her hands free from Kenni's grasp.

"Can I state my case?" asked Arthur.

"Didn't they teach you abonalare?"

'Abandon only as last resort," Arthur replied. "That program has been replaced by one called RAOP. It's an acronym for realistic assessment of progress and that is what I'm suggesting."

"We both know the truth, Arthur. Their fancy names mean nothing, it's all bureaucratic bullshit. Every program has one purpose, the protection of the Pentagon policy makers. Abonalare, for example, wasn't about saving your partner. Its real purpose was ensuring your partner wasn't taken alive. A dead man spilled no secrets."

"Are you always this cynical?"

"I prefer the word realistic, Kenni. And I speak from experience. My orders were never committed to paper and they were delivered in whispers. Field operatives were like diapers. Sent in to clear the shit and then cast off as disposable waste when plans went awry.

"Don't misunderstand me, I'm not looking for pity, I knew and accepted my conditions of employment, or what I thought those conditions were. I just wasn't aware of the betrayal clause. I understood the need of denial should I ever be captured, and the torture I could expect, but I always believed I'd be protected on American soil. But I was wrong. I was treated like a traitor and given no explanation. I underwent interrogation, was accused of espionage and beaten extensively. Why?

"Had I failed my last mission? What and where was that mission? I was drugged and brainwashed, leaving me with no memory. Then I was set up on that farm. Set up as a cold blooded killer who would be terminated in the apprehension process. I made the mistake of surviving."

"Are they really that ruthless?" asked Kenni.

"Judge for yourself Kenni, judge for yourself," said Tyler. "They've perfected the practices of destruction of evidence and concealment of truth. And it's all justified by labelling it 'a risk to National Security. Potentially another 9/11.'"

"Maybe we're looking at this the wrong way. Maybe it's not what you did or didn't do, but rather some snippet of information you learned," Kenni persisted. She directed her next question to Arthur.

"Who issued you with the instruction to terminate Tyler?" No sooner had the question emerged than a new thought triggered a revised plan of attack. "Perhaps it's time to change tack. Become more aggressive.

"Arthur, how well do you know the Director?"

"I've never met her."

"Perhaps then, it's time you became acquainted."

"Where is all this going, Kenni?" asked Arthur. "I'm afraid we're diverting off course."

"Not diverting, Arthur, just redirecting. I feel it's time for us to stop running and launch our own offensive."

"How do you propose to do that?"

"Not me, Arthur. You."

"I'm listening." While he doubted it would work, Arthur found no fault in her logic. He reached for the phone.

"Before we do that," said Tyler. "We should get out of here. Who knows how long we have until our friends here are missed? We might not get so lucky next time. Arthur, can you fly that little bird?"

"If it's got wings or rotors, I can fly it."

"Let's get out of here."

"Where are we going?" asked Kenni.

"Somewhere closer to Washington," answered Tyler. "That's where it all started, and that's where it will finish."

"Should we take their weapons," asked Kenni?

"We won't win it with weapons," Tyler replied. "We need evidence that proves our claims." Nonetheless they loaded a number of guns onto the helicopter.

"Is that all," said Jess. "And I thought we were in trouble." Her attempt at humour lightened the mood.