“Not weird at all,” Chris replies solemnly. “It’s always been in you.”

“Everyone that came with me,” I say, “are all here because they believe in you. They respect you. Because we need you back.”

“I’m here now.” He presses soft, lingering kisses along my shoulder. “What happened to your wrist?”

“I sprained it.”

“I can see that. How?”

“Bumpy helicopter rides. Always wear a seatbelt.”

He chuckles. “I’m sorry.” He kisses my fingers. “Cassie, how did you get me out of the Holding Center? I don’t remember anything.”

“Maybe we should cover that later,” I say, pulling his head down to mine. “Just kiss me.”

He laughs.

“Fair enough,” he agrees.

It’s a good agreement. The best one I’ve had in a long time.

Our wait at the rendezvous point can only last for so long. Eventually we will have to move on. I hope Derek shows up soon. The longer we wait here, the more of a chance Omega has of finding us.

Chris’s head is in my lap. We’re sitting in the couch in the back of the bedroom. His wounds have been tended to by the medics. He was suffering from a concussion, extensive bruising from the beatings and torture of Omega interrogation, malnutrition and extreme dehydration when Manny found him in the POW truck outside of the helicopter at the Holding Center. We’ve been at the rendezvous point for six hours, now. Most of the militia team is asleep. We’re exhausted, and most are wounded to one degree or another. If we want to have enough strength to make it back over the Tehachapi Mountains, this is a necessary rest.

“Tell me everything,” I encourage Chris, twisting his hair around my fingers.

“It’s not pleasant, Cassidy,” he replies.

“I think that’s obvious.” I dip my head down and kiss the tip of his nose. “I didn’t come all this way for you to keep things from me. You don’t need to protect me anymore. Those days are over.”

He gazes up, capturing my hand.

“Yeah,” he says sadly. “I guess they are.” Silence hangs between us before he finally begins. “Back at the Chokepoint, when I sent you into the drainpipe with Jeff and Sophia,” he starts, “I was right behind you. It was just one of those things. I was shot in the shoulder. Here.” He pulls down the collar of his dark blue tee shirt. There’s the bright red scar of a recent wound. “It nailed me. I just couldn’t make it fast enough. I’m sorry.”

I stare at the ceiling.

One of the worst moments of my life was realizing that Chris wasn’t following me out of the battlefield — that I was returning to base without him. It was a nightmare.

“What about Max?” I ask softly.

Chris stayed behind to help Max, our resident explosive professional, after he had been wounded. Uriah abandoned both of them on the field. It’s for that reason I’ve had such a hard time forgiving Uriah for his cowardice. You could almost say that it was his fault that Chris was captured.

“Max is dead, Cassie,” Chris whispers. “There was nothing I could do.”

I close my eyes. Tears burn like acid in the back of my throat.

Goodbye, Max. You were a good man. You saved my life once.

“I know,” Chris says, stroking his thumb across my hand. “I’m sorry. Believe me, nobody’s more sorry than I am.” He lets the horrible news sink in for a moment before continuing, “I was pretty banged up. All I know is that they didn’t kill me outright because they knew who I was. Harry gave orders to take me alive, if possible.” He shrugs. “Next thing I know, I’m beaten, knocked down, tied up and in a truck headed south. By the time I was halfway conscious, I was in a cell in the Holding Center. Ten by ten room, no windows, standard jail cell.” He sighs. “Harry’s motives for keeping me alive are a lot more personal than they are critical to Omega’s war effort.”

“He wanted revenge,” I state. “He always hated you for showing him up when we were camped in the mountains. He hated me, too.”

“No, I don’t think he hates you,” Chris replies. “I think he wanted you dead merely for the purpose of exacting revenge on me. He knew it would kill me if anything happened to you.”

“Why was he so obsessed?” I ask.

“Selfish pride,” he says. “Ego. Maybe a little bit of insanity.” He shrugs. “Does it matter? He interrogated me for a week on militia strategy and battle plans. I didn’t give him anything except false leads and nonsense. Nothing.”

“Of course you didn’t,” I smile. It’s a sad smile, though. “I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is,” he answers. “I think he realized I was worthless to him for information, but I still made good bait. That’s when he moved me to a different cell. I was in there for almost a week…I think. It’s hard to say.”

“Manny found you in the end,” I say. “He saw the POW transport truck on the tarmac. If it wasn’t for him, we never would have found you in time.”

“Harry was leaving?” Chris looks puzzled. “That son of a…he wasn’t kidding.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He kept talking about going ‘up north,’ to some Omega gathering,” he explains. “He was hoping to have both of us there. As trophies of war, maybe. The founders of the militia groups in the central valley? It might have scored him extra points with the high ranking Omega officers.”

“Up north?” I wonder. “I wonder where he was going?”

“I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “He was taking me with him? That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does if you’re an egotistical sociopath,” I say. “You’re right. He was probably hoping to use both of us to earn brownie points. A public execution would have gotten him another promotion.” I slam my fist against the couch’s armrest. “I don’t understand. There’s got to be more to this picture than what we’re seeing. This isn’t right. It’s just…there must have been a good reason. More than just revenge.”

“I don’t know.” Chris nuzzles my waist, drawing me closer. “Thank you.”

“For…?”

“For being you,” he says. He sits up slowly, drawing me close to his chest. “There aren’t a lot of women that would do this for a man.”

“You’re not just any man.” I lean my cheek against his skin, listening to his steady heartbeat. “And this isn’t just any normal situation. This is war. And I love you, Chris. There wasn’t a question of if we could come for you. It was when.”

“I know,” he laughs. “Like I was saying. You’re one of a kind.”

He kisses me. Deeply, heavily. It’s a kiss of relief and desperation and hope — all of those things wrapped into one. He gently squeezes my hips and I sit on my knees, my hands tangled in his hair.

“Cassie,” he says softly, cupping the back my head in his hand. “There’s something you need to know. I’d rather tell you now…”

“Tell me what?”

“Just—”

Someone knocks on the door. I bolt upright, flushed with color, breathing hard. Chris grins and pulls me back to him. I laugh softly and kiss his cheek one last time.

“Commander?” It’s Uriah’s voice. “Derek and his team made it.”

Thank God!

I get to my feet and open the bedroom door. Uriah’s eyes are wide as he assesses me, red cheeks and all. Chris is lounging on the couch. He gets up — slowly — and walks to the door. He’s a good four inches taller than Uriah. That doesn’t take the hurt out of Uriah’s eyes, though, seeing the two of us together.

“He’s okay,” Uriah reports quietly. “He’s downstairs.”

He pauses, then,

“Nice to see you back, Commander Young.” Uriah nods respectfully. He looks between us a few times, doing the math. “Congratulations, Cassidy.”

“Who came on this mission?” Chris asks.

“All militiamen,” I reply. “Vera, Derek, Manny, Uriah, Me…” I shrug. “Everybody. Alexander’s alive. He’s here, too.”

“What about Sophia?” he says, leveling his gaze at me.

“She… chose not to come.”

“Where you go, she goes.”