"Go over it again."

"I just did."

"Go over it again!"

"We've been over this a hundred fucking times..."

"That's right - and we'll go over it and over it until I'm satisfied. You got a problem with that?" Terry Thorne lit up a cigarette and perched one leg on a chair facing Nick Costello. "Any of you like to challenge me on this one? You finding this tedious? Wearing on your nerves, mate? Boo hoo! What you expecting will happen if they rumble us? Jesus Christ - what are you, a gang of fucking pussies?"

The three younger men looked down and took his onslaught. The boss was not taking any prisoners these days. They were soldiers and they were used to army discipline - there was no one here who was realistically going to push their luck and take him on. The fact was they had been at this for hours and they were word perfect - what was the point of simply hammering them into the ground? Everyone was tense and the hanging around was getting on all their nerves. The Colonel acted like he was the only one under pressure here.

Terry looked from one to the other of the younger men sitting round the interview table. They hung their heads and shuffled papers. All except Costello, who raised his and stared his senior officer out in defiance. He would have problems with this one. They were five weeks into an intensive orientation course at a selected safe house way out in the Vermont countryside, deep in snow and pretty as a picture. Not that they had time to enjoy the scenery. The tension was mounting and tempers were wearing thin.

A team of retired intelligence officers and ex-K and R men were working with him to bring the new boys up to speed in the skills that would be required of them in the coming months; although these three men were highly skilled combat veterans in their own fields, none had worked in the civilian sector and all had no experience of undercover work or the delicate art of negotiation. The trouble was that, as the golden boys of their particular disciplines, they thought they knew it all already and had scant regard for their commanding officer about whose career they knew little.

To them Lt. Col. Thorne was a desk soldier who hadn't been on active for years. They were aware he had taken time out from the army to work in the K and R field but that impressed them little. So he had been involved in negotiating with governments, bartering vast sums of corporate money from the luxury of hotel suites and plush offices. Who gave a fuck? As far as they were concerned he was there because they always put some useless dick from HQ in charge of everything. Terry was aware of the undercurrent among the men and knew he would have to prove himself before long, but it wasn't easy finding an opportunity. This sort of situation had to be played very carefully indeed.

The men chosen to accompany Terry Thorne were a disparate bunch. Nicholas Costello was probably the most difficult for Terry to assess. A Special Forces captain who had served in Afghanistan in covert ops - he had the credentials by all accounts and was a mean son of a bitch if his record was anything to go by. A useful man to have on any team but he was also cocky and thought he knew it all - he was the one who would exploit any perceived weakness most flagrantly, although Terry Thorne wasn't fooled into thinking that the others were any less likely to push their luck. But Costello clearly thought Thorne was past it; there was a perpetual sneer on his handsome face directed at him. He was looking forward to wiping it off at some point down the line.

He watched Costello now as he kept his gaze and leaned back in his chair, swinging on two legs nonchalantly with that subliminal disdain so perfected by teenagers. But he was no kid. At twenty-six, Costello was at the peak of fitness after having served a few tours in Afghanistan; he had been on a crack hunt and extermination squad who had lived for months at a time in the hostile mountain terrain cut off from contact. That meant he had killed at close hand and had lived like a desert rat. His courage was not in question - but his bull-headed arrogance was wearing. 'We've all been there, sunny Jim, thinking we're the toughest shit on the planet,' he thought to himself. 'Then we come a cropper and start to really learn about life.' That was the trouble with the army. It wasn't an organization known for its finesse. Their function was war and military types had the tendency to solve all problems with a strong show of force. But they were going to be in territory that was way off requiring this approach.

Of the other two officers, he was even less sure. Kyle Hewitt, the youngest at twenty-five, was a baby-faced, floppy haired blond kid who looked years younger than his age. He was skinny and tall and seemed to have a permanently baffled expression on his rather vacant pretty face. If he shaved at all it would probably only be once or twice a week. But it would be easy to be fooled. His dossier made interesting reading and suggested a much more formidable young man. Hewitt was fluent in Bahasa Indonesia and Cantonese after a childhood spent in Jakarta and Hong Kong where his father had been a banker. He'd joined the army at eighteen and seemed to have speeded through the ranks, ending up in a UN peace-keeping detachment in Africa - so had tasted active combat in one of the most war torn areas of the world. He was also a highly skilled communications officer. Not exactly the boy his baby face might imply.

Will Anders, the third man, had been seconded to them from the air force. He was a pilot, in his late thirties, a solemn, introspective man with a background in air-rescue and relief missions in trouble spots around the globe. Anders was quiet and soft-spoken, a good looking man with bright blue eyes and receding fairish hair but Terry read his eyes; he was thinking deep but preferred to keep his own counsel.

Each man brought something unique to the group and their combined skills and experience were formidable - but none but he had ever worked as civilians, and that concerned Terry. It was a long way from being a soldier to handling oneself in delicate K and R negotiations - even more further away from that was intelligence work. None of these blokes had been involved in counter-terrorism outside of their field ops - and that could be a recipe for disaster where they were going. He had seen arrogant soldiers walk with hobnailed boots into politically sensitive issues; the military were not famed for their patience or humility.

The past few weeks they had been undergoing intensive assimilation from a few retired K and R men who had agreed, for a sizeable fee, to go through the orientation with these rookies - and there had been some choice moments. So far, Terry had kept a lid on the situation but he had a feeling that a blow might be what they all needed. Time to crack a few heads, maybe?

There was no doubt, however, that they were as ready as they would ever be and it was just a matter of waiting for orders now. Dino was standing by with a legitimate function for them to be involved in, which would give them access to several Far Eastern countries, international companies stationed there, embassies and universities. The rest of the contacts were either his personal ones or those rooted out by the intelligence services; but Terry disliked using anyone whose character he hadn't assessed for himself and whose arse he hadn't run previously.

He hadn't seen Annie since she left for Australia with the kids. Six weeks now- and he had felt every day. They were in constant touch by phone and email; Zoe bombarded him with daily mails. It was unlikely he would get to see them before they shipped out and then - how long would it be? Could be months. He thrust the bitter taste  down and turned back to the men.

"So what's it to be? You know better than me? If you think that - you fucking walk now. I didn't pick you. But I have the final decision. Even now. If I don't think you make the cut - and frankly, I don't - then you're back to Oz with your fucking tails between your legs. A shitload of money's already been spent on this mission and heads will roll if you fuck up. And it won't be mine - ya got that?"

There was no response - just three heads looking down and contemplating their feet.

"Am I talking to my fucking self here? I just asked you a question. Ya got that?"

"Yes sir!" The three men mumbled in unison without much conviction. He could see they were tired and frazzled; days began at six with a couple of hours works out- five mile run, weights and then into the classroom after lunch for seven hour sessions broken by individual tasks and grueling simulations, psychological tests, role play - and then dinner and a few hours to unwind when most invariably fell asleep in the lounge of the old house that they had rented for the briefing.

"I detect a note that lacks conviction. When I ask a question, boys, I want an answer that shows me that you actually understand what I am talking about. I hope I don't have to explain myself further. Let me put it another way. Anyone here feeling a little less than confident in my leadership? I get a distinct sniff of the odour of insubordination here. I know it well. Smells like shit. So let's be honest. I don't trust you and you don't trust me. Why not? I don't trust you because I have yet to see any evidence that you can actually pull anything more than your own dicks. You don't trust me because you're so fucking up your own arses that you don't know the real thing when you see it. That a fair summary of where we're at, boys?"

This showdown had been building for days and he had been thinking carefully about how to handle it. Too much and he would look like some posturing idiot; not enough and he would look weak. But one thing he knew for sure. These men had to feel that they could trust his command or they were all fucked from the get go. That was the problem with working with the star strikers; they all wanted to have the ball and score. He knew that well enough - that had been the kind of young man he'd been. It was his job here to bend them into a well-oiled machine, and in the end only one thing would do that. He didn't blame them. Who does want to put his life on the line for a man for whom he has no respect?

"I'd like to know your qualifications for this job, sir!" Costello said with a hooded expression on his face and the ghost of a smirk on his lips. "We've all read each other's dossiers. But yours - never even seen the front page. Did they have to search for it in some archive somewhere? Still in the post? When's the last time you ever fired a shot in combat, sir?"

Kicking the chair from under the man, Terry grabbed him by his shirt collar and rammed him against the wall, his knee pressing in on his groin and his hand closing round his neck. "Go on...show me how you get out of this one...try one of your Ninja tactics on me! Just fucking try..." Terry spat in his face, tightening his grip on Costello's neck.

The two men stared eye to eye - Costello, to be fair, didn't even blink. Nor did he retaliate. "Think I couldn't, sir? But I'm not falling for it. I wont attack a senior officer - that's what you want isn't it, sir?" The man gasped out.

"We're not in the army anymore, mate. Take me if you can...go on...let's see if you're man enough. Before your little sidekicks...you know how you've been boasting that you could have me...here's your chance, you little fucker."

Costello went for it, head butted out and tried to catch Terry off balance as he leaned away from the blow - but he was outclassed. As he swung his leg, he received a punishing kneecap in the groin and found his legs then taken from under him. Seconds later he was on the floor, face down, hands held and immobilized. No one else had moved.

Terry threw him down and stood up, wiping his face and trying to hold his temper. His adrenalin was pumping and he was close to going in and doing some real damage. That worried him. He should have a better line on his emotions than that. "Get up. Now what was your fucking question again?"

Costello pulled himself to his feet, grimacing at the pain in his testicles but not backing down, breathing heavily but still standing proud. He could make another move. Terry wondered if he would and whether he would be as lucky this time once he'd lost the element of surprise. Then he saw the capitulation as Costello dropped his arrogant chin, nodded abruptly and sat back down. "Reckon that answers my question, sir."

Terry shot a look at the other two. "You want to ask anything?"

They shook their heads. "No, sir."

He nodded. "Let's call it a night, then. Early start in the morning. My dossier will be on the table at eight. I don't blame you for asking. It was a fair request." With that he picked up his attaché case and walked out, leaving them in stunned silence.

"You all right, Nick? I fuckin' felt that!" Hewitt asked.

"Might have to lay off sex for tonight. Oh right...there isn't any cunt in twenty miles anyway, how fortunate! ...Jesus Christ!" he lit up a cigarette and gripped his balls. "They were blue before...they'll be black and blue now..." he started to snigger. "Mate, that is one bad tempered dog. Reckon he needs to get laid. Hard fucker, though. I thought I had him then. Man...he's good. So that's one of our worries off the list. Thornie's got the bottle. And he has no problems using it. What d'ya reckon?"

Will Anders stood up and gathered his papers together. "I reckon you got off lightly. And you're a fucking fool. Any tosser could see he's the real McCoy. You really think they're gonna put some nobhead in charge of this mission? I've heard of him. Here and there. Not much but they speak of him with hushed tones. He's one of the few, mate. And he might just be saving your sorry arse one day." He walked out and slammed the door behind him.

Later that evening, lying on his bed staring at the ceiling, Terry wondered if he had read it wrong, whether tomorrow he would find them even more truculent than before.  He was a long time from his years as a commander of men and had preferred to work alone since then. Maybe he was past it? Was he a liability to combat-fit troops such as these men? Was it arrogance to think he was the man he used to be?

His phone rang and he glanced at the clock. Ten fifteen. Probably Annie with some gripe. Jesus, he could do without this tonight...

"Thorne."

"Hey...you sound all tough and businesslike... so sexy...."

"G'day, love. What's going on?" he answered, not really in a mood to start flirting long distance.

"Don't get me started...it's so bloody hot and there are fires everywhere and these packers are driving me nuts. The kids are a pain - I wish they were in school...wait a minute...Liam wants to say hi..."

"Dad? Mum won't let me bring my bike. She says there's nowhere to ride it. Tell her, Dad, tell her, Dad..."

"Liam, put your Mum back on. Do what she says. She's in charge...I said put your Mum on, mate..."

"...Daddy? I don't want to leave. I'll have no friends and who will look after Trixie?"

"Trixie?"

"The cat...Mum's going to put her in a home....Daddy, I don't want her to go in a home. That's like an orphan and she's one of us. Her surname's Thorne. I baptized her...Can't we stay here. I don't really like America...."

"Zoe...princess...just put your Mum on....I'm sorry, Zoe, but I'm not in the mood for this....NO! She's a bloody cat. Who cares what she thinks?"

"Terry! What did you say to her? Now she's crying! Haven't I got enough to contend with? They're whining around me like two banshees and then I have had all sorts of shit from the Uni about cutting my contract too late and have you any idea what it's like to have all these men wandering about the house so-called packing? One walked into my room when I was changing! I mean he didn't even knock! And they broke that statue my parents bought us for our wedding anniversary..."

"You hated that statue..."

"That's not the point. They broke it."

"Claim it. We're insured."

"Don't you understand? I'm under so much pressure here. I can't even talk to anyone! Everyone is wondering what we're up to. It's embarrassing. I hate it. And I've been running around like a bat out of hell and I'll never get everything done in time. Why is it always me?"

"You? What the fuck are you talking about? You think I like this any more than you do? Jesus Christ - if you can't manage to handle it, then just bloody say so. I'm sick of hearing about how you're suffering. Grow up, why don't you? Christ Almighty - can't a man hear anything but complaints when he rings home? Like that he has a bit of support?"

"I rang you. You never bloody ring me. That would be an admission of not being tough enough now, wouldn't it? I don't know why I bother! Go and play with your little boy soldiers. Grow up indeed! Yomping around playing war games while this family is ripped apart? That's real grown up behaviour, mate!"

Annie slammed the phone down and ran upstairs, locking herself in the bathroom and having a good cry. She hadn't meant to say that. Any of it. She hadn't meant to complain about things. It just all came out when she heard his voice. Damn! Damn! Damn! She hit the wall in temper. She had wanted to tell him that she loved him and that she wasn't sleeping at nights for thinking of him and when she did sleep she dreamed about him and that she wanted to touch him and hold him and how was he dealing with it all...Not to mention those things that she would never say to him, those night time fears. He hadn't told her much about this mission but enough for her to know it was very secret and very dangerous and that there were real risks. He had warned her not to tell a living soul what he had told her, that already she knew too much. To everyone else they were moving to New York temporarily as he was changing career and when they knew where they were best settled then they would come back to sell the house.

Sitting on the floor hugging her knees and resting her head back on the cool tiles, she breathed deeply and cursed her own quick tongue and the way she had flared up at his words. He must be under tremendous pressure and in a situation where he couldn't be expected to take on the extra worry of the domestic problems she was laying on him. It was integral now that he kept his head clear and that nothing - nothing - add to his stress levels. He must think that everything was hunky-dory back at home.

Wasn't it? Of course, it wasn't. The night he had told her in New York, she had said very little, stunned by the facts and aware that what he needed was to know she was behind him. She was behind him. No, not behind him. At his side. This time she would not let him down or put her own needs first. This was bigger than them both and it was a tribute to the kind of man he was. This was about saving people - maybe the most important security operation ever mounted in the southern hemisphere. She was proud that he was the only man deemed worthy of the job and for what he may be about to do to secure peace and safety for many Australians.

But.

He was her love. The only man she had ever really wanted since the day she met him. He was the father of her children. They were still so small. They needed their father. Why should they have to be the ones to lay it all on the line for everyone else? Annie knew why, but it didn't ease the pain, still the fear, stop her nightmares that he wouldn't come back, that some hideous fate was out there for him. There were people who would brutalise and torture the body she loved so well and think nothing of it. The sheer horror of that thought almost broke her heart in two.

"Mum...Mum...Dad shouted at me. Why did he shout at me? Doesn't he care about Trixie?" Zoe's voice at the bathroom door made her take a hold of herself, stand up and wipe her eyes.

"I'll be out in a minute, love...I just need to call Dad again..."

Terry heard the click and threw the phone away from him. He groaned and put his head in his hands. Why had he spoken to them like that? He knew how hard it was on Annie. The whole responsibility of the family, the move with no support, not to mention the subsequent months alone in a new city were a tall order for anyone. She would be isolated and with no one she could confide in. 'I am such a fucking bastard,' he thought. 'Those pricks annoy me and I take it out on her? And the kids? Jesus Christ!'

The memory of the night he had lain in her arms, his head on her breast and told her what they had to face, was still etched on his mind. Annie had listened without any comment - unusual for her- and then she had taken him and held him close. All she had said was, "It will be all right. You are the man for this. We just have to accept that. I'm proud of you...so proud of you..."

"But what about the kids...us...our life...everything is on hold...?"

"We'll still be here when you get back. I'll take care of them for you. You know I will..."

This time they had made love, slow and easy as it should have been, his rage and urgency gone, little desire even to come. He just wanted to crawl inside her so that in the months to come he could close his eyes and remember what was waiting for him, who he was doing this all for. Deep in the night they writhed together, each lost in their own private place, needing and giving even as they took strength from the other.

"I love you...I love you," she whispered into his ear as he thrust down softly, her body quivering its own response to his... 

Snapping out of his reverie he picked up the phone and replaced it on the receiver, banging out the number then waiting. Two rings. It was picked up.

"Baby...?"

"Terry? I'm sorry...I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to speak to you like that!"

He smiled. "Hey...I just rang to apologise -don't steal my thunder! Put the kids on, I was so bloody hard on them...I'm just such a miserable bastard. I miss you all too much. Comes out all wrong. You sure you're OK? What can I do?"

"Nothing! I'm a big girl...I just needed to let off some steam..."

"Same here. Guess we only have each other for that, eh?"

"At least we have that. Terry, I'm so ashamed of what I said..."

"Hey...we just gonna try and outdo each other in the sorry game? Forget it. Let's talk. When you leaving for London?"

"Friday. If I get everything done in time."

"You will. I know you. Little Miss Has A List For Everything..."

Annie giggled. It sounded like a young girl. "What about you? How's it going?"

"So so. Had a bust up with my team today. Bit of a sore point at the moment."

"That explains it. Go and have a beer with them. Bit of male bonding. Isn't that what Aussies do after a blue? Smash each other's faces and then a few glasses?"

She had a point. Maybe it was time to start some serious male bonding with them. Break them down and build them up. Wasn't that how it worked? Trust Annie to come up with the answer even when she wasn't trying. She was one smart girl. Even if she had a tongue that could cut diamonds. 'Don't let me think of her tongue...'

"Where are you? Alone?"

She snorted. "No...two little faces looking at me. They want to talk."

"Fuck!"

"No chance, lover. Anyway check the calendar. You'd be solo."

"Even that's better than nothing." He shook his head and smiled at the absurdity of it all. "Put the kids on...I'll save this for that little blonde down in the town..."

"You better not dare, mate! Here they come...and I warn you, Zoe is not a happy bunny...."

They filed in for breakfast, the three men, hair still damp from the shower after the run on a freezing but clear morning, Thorne saying nothing, just jogging along with them stony-faced. You had to give it to him, they'd thought. He was fit; he had matched them stride for stride cross country and in the gym. Helping themselves to food from the selection on the warmers at the side of the room, they sat down, to find three folders set by their places.  Lt. Col. Thorne settled down and ate his breakfast, ignoring them; they flipped through the sheets.

When he was finished, he stood up. "Class starts at eight thirty. Got a long day ahead of us. You read enough now?"

"Some serious shit here, Thorne." Costello said, again catching his eyes and holding them.

"I know what's there. That's not why you're reading it."

"Still some serious shit."

"Yeah. Now eat up and shift your arses."

"Says here you got little kids..." Hewitt said.

"So I'm not firing blanks...big deal...you finished?"

They shrugged. 

"We got a heavy schedule. We break at five today so a lot to fit in. Night off, boys. Meet down in the hall at 1930 hours. Couple of drinks and then I got us a room in the local cathouse. Don't say I don't do anything for you..."

As the door closed the three men shook their heads and laughed. "Fuck, he's got class..." Anders laughed.

"The local cathouse - in this place? You call that class?' Costello grinned.

"You got a better idea?" Anders replied. They smirked and finished their breakfast - it looked like today had already improved immeasurably already.

"Watch your step in here, lads...no trouble and leave the accompanied girls alone. These small towns don't take kindly to smooth operators moving in on their women. We're low profile - so keep it low. Consider that an order - or another lesson- whatever..." They entered the bar lounge, stamping to remove the snow from their boots, banging their hands together to get warm. None of them was partial to the cold.

It was an unremarkable bar, half full, a midweek night. They bought a round of drinks and Hewitt sauntered over to the jukebox.  A few girls were sitting nearby and he struck up a conversation. Next minute he indicated over to his mates at the bar and the girls shouted for them to join them. Costello picked up his drink and sloped over, Anders went to follow him. "Boss?"

"I'll just have a quiet drink, mate. Go be neighbourly," Terry answered.

Anders shrugged his shoulders and joined the others; Terry grinned and watched them settle in with the girls. He almost felt paternal. 

"Not with your pals?" A voice from across the bar asked. He turned back. The barmaid, a tousled haired redhead with a grungy style of dress and a gothic taste in nail varnish was eying him up.

"No...they can play by themselves..." he answered softly with a grin..

"I'm surprised. You look to me like a boy who likes to play," she purred back as she pulled another glass of beer and slapped it down in front of a customer further down the bar, before returning to where he was sitting.

"Whatever gave you that idea, Miss?" Terry smiled.

"Casey. My name's Casey. And you are?"

"Thirsty..." he raised his empty glass. 

Casey pouted but went to fill it up. "You staying at the big house? What you up to? Town's dying to find out. My money says you're a terrorist cell."

"Yeah...that's right, love. Planning to blow up Disneyworld. Never could stand Mickey Mouse..."

At that she laughed. "So what do you do there?"

Terry picked up his drink and bit his lip before answering. Annie would have known straight away he was lying. "Management conferences. Team building. You know?"

"You're Australian?"

"That a problem?"

"No! I like tough guys. I once read that you could break rocks on an Aussie's dick. That true?"

Terry laughed and lit up. "Now I'm hardly gonna deny that, am I?"

Casey grinned back. "You run every morning..." and then as if in answer to the quizzical eyebrow he raised... "I live near the lake. You pass my window."

"That's early to be up and about. You got your eyes on one of my boys?" Terry's own eyes sparkled wickedly; he was enjoying the repartee.

The woman gave him a smouldering look. "I was just on my way to bed. And...yeah...got my eye on both your boys. The left one bounces just as nicely as the right, I figure."

Terry turned to the younger men. "Which is the right?"

Casey leaned over and turned his face round; she pointed downwards. "Not those boys...those boys. You look real fine in jogging pants, mister..."

His tongue rested on his lip as he observed her, a wry smile forming on his mouth. "I thought you country girls were the shy types."

With a chuckle, Casey sashayed down the bar, aware he was watching the sway of her butt in her leather short skirt, sheer black stockings and high heels. On her return she continued. "Who told you that? We got to get our fun where we can in this town. Not much of it about. Can't afford to waste my time. I get off at twelve. If you're interested..."

Terry looked at her thoughtfully. "I've still got paperwork to do and I've got to get up early. I run - as you know. I'll be tucked up by twelve. Need my beauty sleep. Appreciate the offer though..."

"I would have finished with you by six. Just. If you change your mind..."

"Thanks, love. Done my ego a power of good. But I'm not what you need..."

"I know,' she murmured and leaned over close to his ear to add: " But you're what I want..."

He sat on for another hour, drinking slowly and smoking, watching the bar fill up, idling, exchanging a word here and there with a few of the locals. Casey kept him in her sights; he would be lying if he said that he hadn't been thinking about her offer. She was pretty, young, willing and realistic. Just wanted to get laid and have herself some fun. He could give her that - and take a bit of that sweet pussy for himself. But he held back. It didn't matter if Annie would never know. He would hate to have to think of his wife in another man's arms again. After that experience, casual sex didn't seem so casual to him anymore. Their love had to mean more than that. He wouldn't besmirch it just to ejaculate in a warm, wet cunt. His hand would have to do.

At eleven thirty, he walked over and gave them a shout. Costello was tongue wrestling with his date but the other girls seemed less inclined. They were off home, work in the morning. "Costello?"

"Meet you outside," he mumbled. They said their goodnights and moved off, standing in a light flurry of snow as Costello took his own sweet time. Finally he came through the door.

"Good timing, boss. She would have asked me home if I'd had ten minutes more..."

"Give it a rest. None of them would have. Small town, everyone would know by morning. She probably lives with Ma and Pa. Now where we're going the girls'll be in your pants in five... That's if your balls are sufficiently recovered to make it worth their while..." Terry grinned as he answered Costello.

"Mate...I have remarkable powers of recovery..." Costello quipped back as they strolled over to their car.

Shortly afterwards their vehicle pulled up outside an establishment in a back street with the discreetly lit sign: 

Terry stopped the car and the three men jumped out. "There'll be a cab waiting at two. Don't be late, boys. Run at seven. And no bareback riding tonight, hey?"

"You not coming in, boss?" Hewitt asked.

"No, mate. Wouldn't like to cramp your style..." With a smug wave Terry drove off and left them standing there. As he crossed back through the town in the direction he had left, he saw Casey picking her way carefully across the parking lot in front of the bar. Her shoes were hardly suitable for the treacherous night. Slowing down, he tapped his fingers on the wheel as he made his mind up. She opened the door of a car and slid in. With a shake of his head, he put his foot on the gas and headed back to the house.

RAFC Cranwell, Bedfordshire

It was a frosty late February morning when Annie parked the hired car and held the door while the children climbed out. Liam was fascinated, staring at the runways with their fighter planes lined up outside hangars, helipads, cargo aircraft and other multi-engine jets. Like his half brother, he wanted to be a pilot when he grew up, that is when he wasn't going to be a WWF wrestler, Rugby union forward, batsman for the Australian team, Steve Irwin's snake handler and a striker for Manchester United, just to name a few careers he alternated between. Liam adored Harry and was almost beside himself with excitement about today's passing out parade.

Annie was looking forward to seeing her stepson again but was aware that his mother would be present. The two women usually stalked each other with scarce concealed dislike. Over the years they had learnt to be civil and had even occasionally chatted in an almost friendly manner, but it was a long time since they had met up and any moves toward reconciliation that had been made before were probably lost. Penny had been annoyed when Harry had chosen to study at an Australian university rather than accept the place at Oxford he had been offered and somehow Annie had been blamed for persuading him, when it had actually been Terry who had pushed for it. But even now Penny, although she might affect anger with Terry, never actually took it to the limit with him. Annie made a more convenient scapegoat for her to attack these days.

Heigh ho. As she crossed the tarmac to the official HQ buildings and the Whittle Hall for the ceremony, Annie remembered a day long ago when she had attended an occasion at Harry's school and had first met her future rival, Penelope Wilson-Smith, Terry's first wife. She smiled to herself at the girl she had been then, socially gauche, lacking in confidence and unused to the world Terry moved in. How things had changed! She was now more or less the same age Penny had been then and she had thought of Penny as if she were an old woman. The arrogance of youth! Time catches up pretty quickly, she mused to herself.

Terry should have been with her. He wanted to be here. More than anything in the world he wished he was here today to watch his son pass out as an Officer. Yet again the demands of his career were dragging him away from his personal life - and it was so hard to explain that to others. What exactly could they say to excuse his absence? Even Annie only knew a little about what he was up to - the mission was highly classified, need to know stuff and it was dangerous for her to have too much information. But Annie knew that Penny and Harry would have their own personal perspectives on it - Terry was sure to be judged as wanting.

Harry had completed his initial six months' IOT with flying colours (no pun intended) and had been selected for Fast Jet stream training - the premier class. His pilot's course would begin next month. Like his own father in the army before him, he had made an impressive start, right from preliminary selection onwards. His first class honours degree in Aeronautics didn't do him any harm either. At least Terry had made it that day in Melbourne when he had graduated. His mother, however, had not attended - it was term time in UK and she couldn't take the children out of school - but that had not been regarded as unacceptable. However Terry was never accorded quite that level of understanding and tolerance.

In the formal setting of the Whittle Hall, they were given their tickets and directed to their seats. As they approached, Annie realized that they were placed next to Penny and her second husband, Michael, and her other two children, Georgie and Charlotte. Typically, their seats were in the middle of the row so they had to disturb everyone to reach their places while Liam stepped on everyone's toes, tripped over a handbag and fell on a lady in the row in front.

"Annie and the children! What a pleasant surprise! Terry parking the car?" Penny asked wryly.

"He isn't here. He can't get leave."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." Annie thought any idea she had contemplated to try to explain his absence had just flown out of the window. She introduced the children to the family but then fell into silence. She had no wish for small talk with any of them. Instead she occupied herself with her own children, reading through the programme with them and letting them take shots with the digital camera. For once Liam seemed to be on his best behaviour - he was in the middle of some air force fantasy - there was too much going on around to interest him.

The ceremony took about an hour and she got the picture for Terry of Harry in his uniform receiving his wings. That's what she had come for. Terry had not required it of her but she wouldn't have let him down. They would be there as a family and represent him. It had been fortunate that the occasion had coincided with her trip back to America and it had been a convenient time to call in back home.

After a crazy month when she had returned to Canberra, organized the closing up of their home, sent over essential furniture and belongings  for the new apartment, resigned her job - very problematic given her contract (she reckoned she had blown the chance of getting it back when they returned) - she had decided to call home to UK and see her parents for a while. The kids had been due back at school for the start of the new year in late January but it was impossible to worry too much in the circumstances. They would have to miss a few more weeks and then she could put them into school in New York. Liam was delighted, Zoe was worried they would forget everything and be behind everyone. One of them would - but it probably wouldn't be Zoe, Annie thought to herself.

At the conclusion of the ceremony, they stood to file out and Liam impatiently burrowed his way ahead down the aisle through the crowd. Suddenly Annie and Zoe heard his voice shouting out: "Dad!!!"

They looked to the back of the Hall and there he was, standing quietly, an overcoat over his arm, smiling at them. Moments later Liam was in his arms.

"Good Lord!" Annie heard Penny's strident tones. "He's here! So they managed to give him leave after all, did they?"

Annie pulled Zoe by the hand and pushed her way through the crowd to where he was. "What the hell are you doing here?" she laughed as he kissed her softly and put Liam down to swing his daughter up in his place.

He smiled. "I was sitting in my office yesterday and I thought "What the shit...they've had their pound of flesh'. So here I am. Ya see him? Jesus, he looked so fine..!"

Annie nodded. 

"Dad! Dad! Harry's had his hair cut. It's real short and dorky," Liam giggled.

"He's in the military now, mate. Same thing for you if you join up. Reckon it would be a bit of an improvement," he ruffled up his other son's hair playfully.

"Dad, are you staying?" Zoe asked, her arm tight around his neck. He looked down at her and pulled her closer.

"For a little while, princess. Day or so. Then I've got to get back..."he turned to his wife. "Not long now..." he gave her a small smile. Then she saw it clearly. He could not miss this pivotal moment in Harry's life. It might be the last time he was able to acknowledge his son's success. That was the moment when Annie realized just how dangerous this case was. There really was a chance that he might not be coming back at all - or at least he had to face that that reality was possible.

With a dumb smile plastered on her face, Annie stood by his side and made small talk with Penny and the family while her heart was sinking inside. Lights were dancing before her eyes and their voices seemed very far away as she desperately clung on. She had never felt such a sense of panic and fear in her life, even when she had once been kidnapped and brutalised. It was their helplessness in the face of the events that were sweeping them along that made her feel so scared. They were just pawns in an international game of chess where real lives were at stake. But she would not faint here. She would never let Terry know just how scared she really was.

They declined the lunch invitation although Terry and Harry arranged to meet up later for dinner with Annie and the kids. Harry had beamed in delight when he had seen his father, ridden the inevitable comments about his haircut, teased his Dad about his age and eyesight - to see the two men embrace and slap each other on the back brought tears to Annie's eyes. How proud Terry was to see his eldest son attain his ambition and start on the long road to his career as a pilot!

Back at the hotel, the family relaxed, kicked off shoes and Terry sat on the floor with his children, eating chips and watching TV while they chattered away about what had happened in his absence. Annie took a shower and wandered around the room in a toweling robe. "Hey, gorgeous!" Terry shouted over. "Come and sit down."

She came over and sat down by him; he had Zoe on his lap and Liam hanging off his back. She noticed how they clung to him - or was he the one clinging to them? He flung his arm round her and pulled her against him, leaning down to kiss her. The children giggled.

They passed most of the day like that, just being close, going out for a short walk before dinner to get some fresh air, talking and laughing - a family like any other. But it seemed that everyone, even the children, felt that this was a unique occasion and one they had to treasure. Simply being an ordinary family was going to be near to impossible in the months to come.

Harry arrived on time - not like his usual style - and Annie and the children were still getting dressed. Downstairs in the hotel bar, the two men had a drink.

"So, mate, is it true? Do pilots get all the girls?" Terry asked with a grin, taking a gulp of his pint and wiping the froth away with the back of his hand.

Harry chuckled. "I get all the girls. Full stop."

"Ya cocky bastard," his father replied. "Just don't go making me a Granddad, mate, I'm too young."

"No chance. No one's getting their hooks in me."

His father snorted. "Famous last words. Look at me. Cockiest bastard on the base. Different girl every night. Six months later, I meet this girl and the rest is history..."

"Should have kept your pants zipped or used a rubber. Thought you were the smooth operator?" Harry teased, downing his pint and ordering two more.

"Fair play, mate, you never heard of passion? And your mother was a beautiful girl..."

"Spare me, Dad! No kid likes to think of their Mum on the job."

"Then stop eying Annie up every time you get a chance."

Harry's eyes sparkled over his glass. "She's not my Mum and she's got an arse you'd have to be blind to miss..."

"Watch it, son. You're not too old for me to give you a bloody good hiding..."

"I mean it, Dad. She's a beautiful woman. I'm just so relieved that you two sorted it out. You're so right for each other. I remember as a teenager staying over at your place before you were married. I was totally in love with her. You know how you are at fifteen? So fucking hopeless with girls and up close to this gorgeous woman who's running about the place in her underwear - and the two of you rarely keeping your hands off each other. I was pretty in awe of you in those days."

"That so?" Terry laughed. "I thought we were pretty discreet..."

"I needed earplugs at night! I used to lie there in the dark wondering what she was doing to you to make you groan like that. Or what you were doing to make her make so much noise. Had a few ideas, mind you..."

"Ya dirty little bugger. So you were wanking off thinking of Annie, were you?" Harry smiled. "Well, I wasn't thinking of your hairy arse..."

They carried on, as men will in this vein, skirting the issue of what they really wanted to speak about. Finally Terry took the bull by the horns. "Harry, mate, I want to tell you something. I've left the army. I'm back in K and R. We're moving to New York..."

"What? What the fuck for? Leave Oz? Are you mental?" Harry exclaimed, amazed at the turn of events.

Terry raised his eyebrows at the surprised reaction. "More money. Better lifestyle."

"You left K and R to get a fucking life! Why go back now at your age? You don't need the money - you made your pile, years ago. Come on...don't shit me, man. What's the real reason?"

Terry took a deep draught of his pint. "Good God, Harry. When did you get so smart? Look there is more to it but...I can't say anymore than that. I just want you to know that I'm ...things might be....if Annie ever needs you...." He was floundering, unable to explain any clearer. "Harry, I couldn't be any prouder of you if I tried. I need you to know that. You're my son and I haven't always been the best father but I have always loved you. You're a man now and I can't believe I had a hand in making something as perfect as you." He looked down, uncomfortable at the confidences but determined to say them at last. "Mate...if I made mistakes with you, then at least I tried not to do that with Zoe and Liam. You taught me how to be a father. Even if I didn't always do it for you."

Harry had listened quietly while his father spoke. "Dad...whatever you're involved in, you'd better take care of yourself. I've only got one Dad. And I'm not so old that I don't need him still. You weren't a bad father. You were just an absent one. But I always knew you loved me. That's what counts in the end. And...Annie and the kids...you know how I feel about them. I won't let them down. Don't worry about them. Just get through this. OK?"

Terry nodded and patted his son's back. Neither of them trusted the other to speak. It was a welcome relief when Annie and the two children arrived to join them. "Wotcha, mate!" Liam shouted as he bounced on Harry's knee. Harry grimaced.

"Liam! Don't do that!" he moaned nursing his groin. 

Terry laughed. "That should cramp your style for a few days, lover boy."  Harry grinned, Annie frowned, wondering what exactly they'd been talking about while Liam bounced around some more.

"Sit down!" His father shouted and the little boy pulled a face and climbed onto the nearby chair. Harry stood up.

"What would you like to drink, Annie? Kids?"

"G and T, thanks, and they'll have Coke - but I swear Liam's wound up enough already tonight!" Her step son took himself off to the bar to refill the drinks.

"Good talk?" Annie asked.

Terry nodded.

"Obviously used up all your words for today, did it, O Mysterious One?" Annie smiled. 

Terry shrugged. "I'll have plenty to say later. When I get you alone..."

"Dad?" Zoe slipped onto his knee and whispered in his ear. "Am I pretty, Daddy?"

He looked at her bemused. "You're gorgeous, princess."

"I wish I had blonde hair. Can I dye it when I'm older?"

"Dye it? What do you want to do that for? Your hair's fine as it is." He replied shaking his head in the age old mannerism of fathers and their pretty daughters. They seem incapable of seeing them as they see other women.

"All the pretty girls have straight blonde hair. And blue eyes. I've got stupid curly black hair AND green eyes. They don't even match!" She moaned.

Terry exhaled. "I've got green eyes."

"You're a boy. It doesn't matter about boys. Even the ugly ones get girlfriends!"

"You saying I'm ugly?" Zoe giggled at that and shook her head. "Look at your Mum. She's gorgeous. She's got curly black hair. If you look like her when you grow up, you'll be apples. The boys'll be lining up and I'll be chasing them with a big stick," her father grinned.

Zoe slapped his arm playfully. "You better not! Boys always like girls with blonde hair. I know. All the pop stars have blonde hair. Only Kelly Osbourne has black hair and she's fat and horrible..."

"Who's Kelly Osbourne?" Terry asked. 

Annie snorted. "You are so past it, Thorne!"

Terry smirked as if he was delighted to be past it. "Let me tell you something about boys, Zoe my girl. They always hang round the little blondes - but they soon get tired of them. Play hard to get...they've been watching the quiet dark-haired girls all along but they're too shy to say hello. But in the end, they're the ones they want...I know. I was a boy once...just ask Harry over here....Harry, mate, what do you prefer....sexy blonde bimbo or beautiful sophisticated dark haired lady like my daughter?"

"Well, that's a toughie," Harry struck a thinking pose. "She is my sister and I have seen her running about with a bare bum..." at that Zoe squealed... "But, Dad's right. Nothing wrong with a willing blonde...but we Thorne men like a bit of class...what about you, Liam? What type of girl do you fancy?"

"A dead one," he answered with a cheeky grin. "I hate girls. They're just so stupid and ....girly..."

Annie grabbed him and gave him a hug. "Wonder how long you'll last, sweetie, before the hormones get ya?"

"What do ya mean, Mum?" Liam pushed her off, straightening his hair.

"She means nature," Zoe answered bossily. "We did sex in class last term." At that Terry choked on his pint. "About erections and babies and things. That's why boys are always touching their willies, you know?"

"Can we change the subject?" Annie pleaded.

"Well, I can't help it if it gets stuck," Liam complained.

"That's what you always say," Zoe teased. "But that's not true. How can it get stuck in your pyjamas? It's called masturbating...."

"I said...enough! You'll put us all off dinner. Thank God the table's ready. No more sex talk, please. I want to enjoy my food." As she stood up to follow the waiter, she caught the faces of Terry and Harry. A pretty blond with a short skirt, low cut top, big tits, long, long legs and masses of golden hair, wiggled past on her way to rejoin her date at the table. Both heads turned and followed her every move.

 "Thorne men too classy to have their heads turned by a bimbo?" Annie whispered as they made their way to their table."

"I'm married, not dead, love." Terry snapped back. "And my son here has to think about enhancing the gene pool. Not to mention a therapeutic periodic clearing out of the pipes."

"That mean getting a regular shag, Dad?" Harry asked with a grin.

"Absolutely. Almost a service to womankind. It would be selfish of us to deny our gifts. And detrimental to our good health as well," Terry responded smugly.

Annie tutted. "I said no sex talk at dinner! And that includes you two. You've had your warning..."

It was two days' later in a hotel in London that they spent their last night together. There hadn't been much chance for privacy with the children around them all the time but they had grabbed the nights and spent them in frantic lovemaking. Neither got enough sleep and the active days were trying at times. So much to say, so little time to say it. The next morning, Annie and the children were returning to New York and Terry was flying East. The countdown had begun.

He had spent most of the evening making calls, some coded, others on his cell phone, depending on the level of security required. He was living two lives here and he had to ensure that his cover as a security expert was fully established while maintaining his covert links with control and his men. If the children had come near he had chased them away. Mentally he was already distancing himself from his real life as if he was afraid of allowing one to cross over to another.

Latish, Annie knocked on the bedroom door. "They want to say goodnight, Terry. Can they come in?" He held up his hand, abruptly brought his current call to an end and then summoned them in. The two children came in rather tentatively.

"Why the faces?" He asked with a gentle smile.

"You've been working...you were cross with us. We tried to be quiet..." Zoe explained. He sat her on his knee.

"And you were quiet. Thanks. You too, buster, come here..." he swung Liam up on his other knee. The children hugged him.

"We made you good bye cards. Will you take them and put them up in your room when you're gone?" Zoe asked.

He looked at the two cards; a neatly worded and carefully drawn formal 'Goodbye, Daddy, I will miss you. Take care and be home soon!' from Zoe with a picture of a plane and a man, presumably him, waving from the tarmac. Liam had drawn a footy player running with a ball; it had nothing to do with the subject whatsoever. It just said inside: Miss you, Dad. Liam. He held both children close.

"I'll take them and pin them up. Not that I'll need anything to remind me of you two. I'll be thinking of you every day. You know I will. But these are great... bonzer... come here...over my shoulders...let's see if I can still manage you both like when you were tiny..." He stood up and lifted them easily, running through to their room and throwing them on their beds before collapsing on a heap on the floor, clutching his chest and claiming he was having a heart attack. They jumped on him and the three rolled over in a mound of bodies, laughing, tickling, teasing.

Annie watched from the bedroom door, a lump in her throat. "Stop it, you lot! Bed! We've got an early call in the morning and none of you will be laughing then..." Together they settled the two children and turned out the lights, sitting in the dark while they quieted and dropped off to sleep. Terry took her hand and held it as they sat there watching their offspring. It felt like completing a circle.

Outside the room, Terry closed the door and put his arm round her. "Last night, hey? Let's make it one to remember?"

He picked her up as easily as he had done the children and walked with her to their room, their eyes locked. Inside, he lowered her to her feet and then began to unfasten the buttons on her blouse. She stopped his hand.

"No. I want to say something first. It's been on my mind and it's very important." He frowned, clearly trying to second guess her, unsure where she was heading.

"When you are away...it could be months, I know that, and we may not have a lot of contact. Terry...you are at war, even if it is a secret war. That means living under terrible pressure and danger. Every moment of every day you will be in fear of being discovered. That is an intolerable burden and you will need comfort. You will need peace."

"What do you mean...?" he began, although something in his face seemed already to understand what she was about to say.

"I mean...I wouldn't blame you if you took some comfort in a woman. No, that's not the way I wish to say it....I want you to take comfort in a woman. I don't care who it is. A call girl. A woman you pick up in a bar. A fling you have while you're there. I know how it used to be in your job and that's how you men got by. It doesn't have anything to do with us. Nothing at all - and I don't want you to suffer on my account. Go with another woman. Dream of me."

With that, she slowly removed her blouse and slipped off her loose silk pants; she was naked beneath, her smooth pale skin fragrant with the exotic cream she had massaged in, the hair between her legs neatly shaped, her body prepared for him. He stepped back and looked at her, filled his eyes with her loveliness, drank it in like a thirsty man drinks water. His woman. Soft, beautiful, ready and adorned for him. Her scent caught in his nostrils, the subtle citrus tang, but somewhere beneath it the sweeter and more erotic fragrance of her sex. He could sense it like an animal could pick up a scent on the breeze. His own senses seemed sharper and more acute, the aching sadness somehow throwing everything into stronger relief; her words some painful proof of love, acceptance of frailty, understanding above and beyond the call of duty.

Annie moved her hand and began to undress him. He let her, leaning back against the wall and watching, his fingers trailing over her face, her arms, her naked breasts. She knelt to remove his shoes and socks, lowered his jeans and pressed her face against his groin, her body rocking against him gently as if silently weeping. He felt her kiss his cock and slip her mouth around his turgid length, gasping as she sucked down hard and he felt the back of her throat, the slight pressure of her teeth, the warm wet suction. It was his turn to rock as she loved him, his eyes closed and a tear forcing its way through to his lashes.

Joy so beautiful it makes you weep. She cried too, after he had lifted her away and laid her back on the bed, knelt to worship her, traced each fold of her sex with his tongue, savoured the uniqueness of this woman - what makes it so right with one woman and just a selfish act of relief with all the others? She came and called his name, her arms reaching to hold him and he joined her, first with his lips on hers and then his body pressed against her body and then inside, deep inside as they made a tender and helpless kind of love. The kind where you want to make memories and declarations all at the same time and are too afraid to spoil the moment with mere words.

She cried in his arms when passion was spent, quiet tears and deep sighs as he held her against his chest and brushed back her hair with his hands. A long time passed when neither said anything nor did they doze as they might formerly have done; tonight was too precious to waste in sleep.

"Annie...what you said. I don't know how to answer it. I wish I did. I wish I could say for sure that nothing would ever tempt me to touch another woman in this life but I can't say that. It would be a lie. I don't want to and I wouldn't be proud of myself and it would take a lot to get me there. But if I did, you are right. I would be with you. No matter who she was or what she meant to me. You are all women to me."

She nodded and breathed a few deep breaths to calm herself before replying. "The same does not apply to me, Terry. I want you to know that. I will not betray you ever again...I swear it..." she spoke vehemently and he chuckled softly.

"Works both ways, Annie. I've learnt that the hard way..." he whispered.

"No, it does not. A man who puts his life on the line for others must know that those who love him at home will never turn away - even for a moment. That is important for you to know. Wherever you are or whatever you do...I am waiting for you. Only you. No other man will ever compensate. Even with my eyes closed..."

The silvery glow of the moon shone through the window on the man and woman in the bed. Sleep was long coming. Both had much to face together in that long night.