WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS STRONG LANGUAGE. If you are offended by such please don’t read those particular words.

"Okay, Malloy, let’s take it from the top." Frank Stevenson sat at the end of a stark metal table, watching the suspect before him. He was tall, powerfully built, with wheat-coloured hair. He was in his thirties but appeared to be years younger. He was the senior FBI officer, his partner standing quietly behind him. He kept his voice even. "Start from meeting the kid."

Taking a deep breath, Trent started his story for the third time. It was getting extremely hard to keep focused as his mind kept wandering back to Jessie. Was she okay? Was Carlos with her? Why wouldn’t they tell him anything about her? He feared the worst.

"So, why didn’t you contact the Rangers at your office about what you were doing?"

"I didn’t think they would appreciate a 15 year old kid doing what they couldn’t. And I wasn’t even sure that John could find her. I figured I would check the place out and call them if it was Oates."

"But you didn’t call them."

"Look, he had a gun and he was heading back into the room where she was. After seeing how angry he had gotten before, I thought he was going to kill her."

"Did you know she was there?"

Trent rubbed his hand across his face, as if trying to wash away some imaginary dirt. "No, but it was the only place she could have been."

"And you say he had a gun?"

"Yeah. He pointed it at me. That was when I hit him." The officers exchanged glances. "Look, can’t you just tell me how Jessie is? I mean is she okay?"

"Then what did you do?"

Trent sighed heavily, frustration building. "I guess I hit him. He fought back. I just wanted to get to Jessie."

Silence hung heavily in the air. Finally, the younger agent spoke. "Come on now, Malloy. That’s not how it happened is it? You were pissed off at watching some guy trying to rape your girl. You lost it and broke his neck, didn’t you?"

Trent took a second before answering, knowing that they were trying to make him angry. "Yeah, I was angry but he had a gun. I fought in self-defense."

"Then why can’t we find a gun?"

**

"Carlos." The Hispanic man looked up to see Sarah standing before him. His mind had been lost in thought and he hadn’t even heard her approach. Now she stood before him, flanked by an older couple. Rising, Carlos looked at them. The man had a strong square jaw and skin that testified to his years of working in the outdoors. His pale blue eyes belied the pain beneath his tough exterior. He put out his hand as Sarah introduced him.

"Carlos, this is Mr. and Mrs. McNamara." Carlos grasped the hand presented before him and was quickly told, "Call me Jim."

Mrs. McNamara then extended her hand, introducing herself as Eve. It, too told of years of manual labour, and provided a window in to the woman herself. There was a surprising strength underneath a somewhat fragile appearing exterior. She tried to smile, idly trying to pat down a stray strand of dark hair. Carlos could see Jessie had inherited features from both her parents.

"It’s nice to meet you both. I just wish it was under different circumstances," Carlos told them sincerely. "Have you seen Jessie yet?"

"No, we just got here. Sarah here was nice enough to pick us up at the airport and bring us right over." Sarah smiled, trying to maintain a strong façade for the couple. The truth was, she was having a tough time dealing with the situation. It just seemed a little too familiar. Every instinct in her told her to run away, but she had tried that once and knew it didn’t work.

"I’ll take you to her room, " Carlos said, moving past them and out the door, with them following behind.

At the door, Carlos paused. "I just want to warn you," he said gently. "She’s been beaten pretty badly. Don’t be shocked by her appearance. They had to do reconstructive surgery to repair her cheekbone but there is no sign of brain injury. It’s just matter of time." Slowly, he opened the door.

Despite the warning, neither Eve nor Jim was prepared for what they saw. While Eve made no effort to hide her tears, Jim fought desperately to control his emotions. As Eve took Jessie’s hand, Jim stayed back and turned to Carlos.

"How’s Trent?" he asked

"I haven’t had a chance to talk to him. I think they are charging him with murder," Carlos said quietly.

"Well, when you see him, you tell him I’ll contribute every spare nickel I have to his defense." He turned on his heel and approached his daughter’s bedside before anyone could see his tears.

**

He smiled a large tooth grin that had become his trademark. That down-home boy grin. This case would be a perfect opportunity to make a name for himself. He would be the ‘no-nonsense’ DA who would become a ‘no-nonsense’ senator. Jacob Pitts. Everyone would know his name as the man who prosecuted the vigilante. True, there was a chance that the public would feel sorry for the defendant, and believe he was just protecting his girlfriend. But that was okay. He might just kill two birds with one stone. He would get Alex Cahill to assist and if anything went wrong he could blame her, and justify firing her. Yes, he thought, this is going to work.

**

"WOOOOHHH. Hey pretty boy!!! We’re gonna have some fun with you!!" Trent ignored the catcalls as he was walked out to the visitor’s room. With his martial arts training, he had no fear of the other inmates. His only thoughts were of Jessie.

As he entered the dingy gray room, he saw his best friend and business partner. Finally, someone would let him know about Jessie. Picking up the phone as he sat at the glass partition, his first words were, "How is she, Carlos?"

"She’s okay, Trent." The look on his face told otherwise.

"Tell me the truth."

Carlos sighed. "Her cheekbone was smashed and she had a few broken ribs. They are keeping her sedated but she doesn’t seem to be coming around. I think it’s more mental than physical."

"Damn!" Trent hung his head, slamming his fist on the table, making the other visitors jump at the sound. "I just want to see her."

"I know, buddy." Carlos tried to change the subject. "How you holding up?"

"Okay. Got a lot of guys wanting to be my special friend." Trent forced a smile. "It’s not looking good, is it?"

"No, manno, it isn’t. Problem is, they can’t find the gun," Carlos told him.

"It was there, Carlos," Trent told him, looking for any sign of doubt in Carlos’ eyes. He found none.

"I know. Gage is feeding me a few things and so is Walker. Problem is, they are trying to keep Walker as far from this as possible, because of your connection. But you know him." Carlos chuckled. "Just keep your chin up. And don’t drop your soap in the shower."

Trent smiled at his friend’s attempt to lighten the mood. Both were trying very hard not to accept the gravity of the situation. Finally, after a few moments silence, Trent whispered, "Take care of her, Carlos, and tell her I love her."

**

"What?! You want me to prosecute?" Alex Cahill wouldn’t have been more surprised if she had just won the state lottery. She looked at her boss, Jacob Pitts, in disbelief. "I can’t," she implored. "I won’t…"

"You can and you will." His tone was stern. "I realize you have a personal connection to this but I am short of manpower. And you are the best prosecutor I’ve got."

"But I don’t believe he is guilty."

"Not guilty? Alex, he killed the guy. Federal agents heard him threaten to do it. Now, do you honestly believe that he should be allowed to run round killing whomever he wants?"

"No, but…" Her argument was cut off.

"Then prosecute him."

"Jacob, please be reasonable. My husband has known him for over 25 years." Alex couldn’t imagine how she would tell Walker.

"No, Alex, my mind is made up." He turned to take a file from his bookcase, Alex not seeing the smile playing across his face. He was dismissing her. As Alex turned to leave, she heard him speak. "And I’m sure I don’t have to remind you of the consequences if you don’t give this case your all, Alex."

**

"Jessie, I know you are in there," Sarah spoke softly. "It’s okay, now. No one is going to hurt you."

Jessie sat on the chair across from her roommate, staring out at the institutional white wall. Her eyes were unseeing, her features unresponsive. She hugged her knees tightly to herself.

"No one is going to hurt you," Sarah repeated. She had been trying to get some response…any response out of Jessie for days now. It just seemed like no one was there. "Boy, I wish Trent was here. I know that’s who you need, Jess. You know he’d be here if he could."

**

Jessie heard the voices but they had become nothing more than background noise. She was safe now. Safe, where no one could hurt her and no one she loved could get hurt. She would just stay here forever, until she could see Trent again. She would see him soon, in heaven.