Chapter Five

Jake slowly opened his eyes to the darkness of the abandoned house.  He sat up slowly, rubbing his swollen jaw, trying to remember how he got in the unfamiliar house.  Frank!  Damn you, Donovan!  He stood quickly as anger overshadowed his memory and a stabbing pain brought back the recollection of his bullet wound and he sat back down quickly. 

He wondered how long he had been out and check the time on his watch.  It was nearly dawn...he had been out all night!  He promised himself he would beat the hell out of his boss when he saw him again...he just prayed he would—and soon!

He looks so tormented and vulnerable while he sleeps, she thought.  She had sat by his side; unable to touch him or comfort him in any way during the many hours he lay unconscious.  Her hands were cuffed behind her back and she had merely been able to murmur softly to him while he called out in his sleep or shook violently with the aftereffects of the electroshock.    

Darkness surrounded him like a thick blanket and he fought against it.  A sense of urgency heightened his awareness and he finally broke through the veil of unconsciousness when he felt something shake him and an annoying noise filled his ears.

"Hey," Fallon called again, bumping her shoulder against the cot, jarring Donovan, hoping to bring him out of unconsciousness.  "Hey, wake up!"  She said louder, shaking him again.

"Please...be quiet," Frank growled, although he soon realized it wasn't the female agent's voice that had grated on his nerves, it was the awful buzzing in his ears.  Fallon had a soft, melodious voice that would normally sound pleasant and enthralling, but the headache he received for his troubles felt like it was going to split his skull in two and any noise was amplified 100 fold.

"Hey, I'm just trying to get you to wake up," she snapped, looking the man over carefully.  "You okay?"  She asked, her voice softening immediately.  She knew he couldn't be doing too well after the torture he went through.

With eyes still closed, he nodded his head slightly and immediately regretted the action when the throbbing increased.  Okay? he thought.  Hell no!  My head's about to explode and every muscle in my body aches!  "Yeah," he lied, opening his eyes, seeing her sitting on the floor next to the cot, her hands cuffed behind her.  "You?"

Fallon thought about it.  Her entire body ached.  "Yeah, fine," she lied in return. 

"How long have I been out?" he asked, struggling to turn on his side to work on the ropes that bound his hands behind him.

"I don't have a watch...not that I could see it, but I'll go out on a limb here and say about 16 hours."  She nodded at the look of disbelief on his face.  "Hey...I'm surprised you even woke up."  She leaned back against the cot, struggling with her own bonds, her head braced against his bare chest.  "Who are you?"  There was something oddly familiar about the handsome agent and yet she couldn't quite place it.

"Frank Donovan, Justice Department," he said, wondering if there was something wrong with his hearing.  He was having trouble hearing her over the loud roaring in his ears.  He grunted when she jerked suddenly and her head contacted his chin.

"Oops, sorry," she said, grinning as she turned to look at him.  "JD?  Why the hell would DEA send you?"  She wondered. 

"Special ops," he explained, stretching his neck in all directions trying to relieve some of his pain. 

"Sorry for you," she said, hanging her head slightly as she again struggled with the cuffs that held her.  "You were their target."

"Me?  Hell, I don't even know Jorge Espinosa, although it was apparent he is not the man in charge," he stated, watching her closely.  She was a looker--that was for sure.  It was apparent, even through the bruises.  Her skimpy dress left very little to the imagination and he could see why Jake wanted to save her so badly.   

"You're right, Jorge's not in charge...that was just a front," she explained quickly, hearing the sounds of people approaching.

"That is the truth, Frank Donovan," Roberto confirmed, looking down at the agent lying on the cot.  "I have waited a long time for my revenge."

Donovan's expressionless eyes wandered over him.  "I have no idea who you are."

Roberto shrugged.  "It makes little difference.  I know who you are, that is what is important."

"What do you want?" Donovan asked, taking on the appearance of complete composure.

"Your head on a platter...or your brains scattered across that wall behind you.  That will do for starters."  Roberto smiled evilly, shoving a gun under his chin.  "Yes, that will do nicely."

"Roberto, why?" Fallon asked, still unable to put any of the pieces to this absurd puzzle together.

"Tomorrow...tomorrow is the anniversary of my brother's death."  He trailed the tip of the gun up Donovan's cheek and pressed it into his closed eye.  "You knew him...Agent Donovan.  You helped to have him killed."

Donovan's mind raced...a year ago.  A year ago they were sent to bring Armando Uribe back to the United States to stand trial.  Uribe had a brother?

"I can see your mind is working through the circumstances surrounding my brother's death.  Let me help you.  Because of you, Armando was killed while in prison awaiting trial in your United States.  So...Agent Donovan...you have until sunrise to live.  That is when a bullet will end your life and release mine." 

Fallon let out the breath she had been holding as soon as Roberto left the room.  "Sweet Jesus, what is he talking about?"

"Armando Uribe," he replied simply.

"Now I know why you were so familiar to me.  I studied your reports and some of your missions here in Colombia with the CIA.  I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, but somehow I have a feeling you'd rather be somewhere hanging out with your friends drinking beer or eating pizza."  She smiled softly, thinking that he did not strike her as a man who did either of those things.

"Jake," he whispered.  Just before they were attacked Jake had been talking about eating pizza and drinking beer...with her.

"What did you say?" she asked, her face clouding with pain as she jerked against the handcuffs.

"Jake...he said the two of you went through Quantico together," he explained.

"Jake Shaw?  Daay-um," she cursed.  "How's the little street punk these days?"

"Shot and bleeding about three miles from here," he disclosed.

"Shit." 

Donovan nodded and was amazed he had the urge to laugh at her even as his head protested the movement he made.  "Yes, that sums it right up...shit."

"Argh," she grunted and let loose a stream of four-letter words.

"What are you doing?" he asked, frowning. 

"Trying...to...dislocate...sonofabitch," she hissed, pulling her left wrist out of the cuff.  "Dislocate my thumb so I could get out of these friggin' things."  Fallon grabbed her left hand with her right and, with another string of obscenities, jerked the thumb back into place.  She attached the dangling end of the cuffs to her right wrist before kneeling next to him. 

"Thank God, they only tied you."  She worked at the knot until it gave enough slack for him to slip his wrists from the bonds.  She helped him sit up.  "You think you're up for making a run for it?"  He looked pale and weak and she worried that he would not be able to travel the jungle on foot.

"I'm sure as hell not going to stick around here to see what other little pleasantries Uribe has in store for me," he said, angrily. 

She nodded.  "You might want to put these on," she said, tossing him his sweater and pulling his boots from underneath the cot.  "Not that I'm complaining about the view, mind you."  She licked her lips enticingly and ran a hand softly over the muscles of his chest.

He gave her an odd look as he slid his feet into the boots.  He saw the mischievous glint in her eye and forced himself not to grin.  "You have an odd sense of humor."

"Oh, you think I'm joking?" she said with a smile as she laced his boots.  "I may be a captive, but I'm not blind...or dead." She pushed the sweater down over his head.  "Put your arms in the little holes," she teased.

He rolled his eyes as he put his arms into the sleeves.  "Why is it undercover agents are so odd?"

"Odd that I think you're yummy?" Fallon teased, trying to keep his mind off his pain.

He had a feeling he wouldn't win with this girl.  Deciding to change the subject, he gave her a quick once over.  "You won't last long out there, wearing that outfit and traipsing through the jungle without shoes."

"Unless you brought me a change of clothes," she said, standing on tiptoe to check the window that was high up on the wall.  "I think I better keep this dress on...that is...unless you want me naked.  That might be arranged," she said with a wink.

Donovan blinked.  Was she completely insane?  Jake had said something about her propositioning him at Quantico...

"Hey, I'm just kidding.  Coast's clear," she said, opening the window.  "Give me a boost, will ya?"

He shook his head and cursed himself for the movement.  He had to remember to stop agitating his headache.  He placed his hands at her waist and lifted her to the window.  He gulped audibly when he realized she had nothing on under the dress.  Giving her a boost upward gave him a clear view of what her dress didn't outwardly reveal.  He felt a twinge of guilt and quickly averted his eyes.  When she pulled herself up, she sat on the sill and held her hand out to help him up.   The effort made him slightly dizzy and he fought back the wave of nausea that came with the spell.

As soon as they cleared the window, Fallon headed for the seclusion of the nearby jungle.  He ran after her, holding a hand to the back of his head.  The knot that formed from the crack to the head he took was enormous and was covered with dried blood.  He was starting to feel dizzy again and wasn't sure if he could keep up with Fallon, who had gotten quite a lead on him.  He was amazed how quickly she traversed the terrain in her bare feet.  Of course, when you're being chased by the devil, you don't stop to remove a pebble from your shoe.