Jake’s exhaustion prevented him from leaving the capital. He was forced to spend the rest of the day in a nearby hotel, anxiously waiting for Allison’s phone call. Much to his disappointment though, it never came. He had no other option but to drive back to Adams.

Eighteen hours, I've spent, driving back and forth from Adams in less than two days: lucky me.

Halfway through the trip, he turned on the radio, hoping that a few, fine tunes would take his mind off of his ordeal. As soon as he did however, the melodic, acoustic guitars that filled his ears reminded him of the night he had been trying to forget. The song was none other than MSG’s “When I’m gone”.

“More irony,” he thought to himself. Luckily for him, it was only seconds from being over.

“You’re listening to ‘Broken Hearts Encore’.” A low, feminine voice spoke. “Holly, I do hope you work things out with Jake. Jake, if you’re listening: please give her a second chance.”

“Yeah, because some radio chick said so.” Jake grumbled.

“This next one is dedicated from Holly to Jake. It’s also one of my personal favorites. Here’s Scorpions’ ‘Send Me An Angel’.”

“An angel…” He whispered, as the melodic introduction of the famous, sensual, ballad reminded him of their first kiss. In a split second, her words that night flashed through his mind. He felt again Holly’s caring touch, saw the puzzled look in her eyes as he called out her name and then, the moment that had been engraved deeply in his heart: their kiss in the pouring rain. It was sheer magic. Amid lightning and thunder, they lost themselves in each other’s embrace, living for the moment. Here with Klaus Meine’s magnificent voice ringing in his ears, he took one more trip down memory lane, as tears rose up in his tired eyes…

The wise man said just walk this way To the dawn of the light The wind will blow into your face As the years pass you by Hear this voice from deep inside It's the call of your heart Close your eyes and you will find The passage out of the dark Here I am Will you send me an angel Here I am In the land of the morning star The wise man said just find your place In the eye of the storm Seek the roses along the way Just beware of the thorns Here I am Will you send me an angel Here I am In the land of the morning star The wise man said just raise your hand And reach out for the spell Find the door to the promised land Just believe in yourself Hear this voice from deep inside It's the call of your heart Close your eyes and you will find The way out of the dark Here I am Will you send me an angel Here I am In the land of the morning star Here I am Will you send me an angel Here I am In the land of the morning star

Hot, thick tears were running down his face, as the Scorpions’ ballad faded out. Jake couldn’t deny it to himself: he still loved Holly; but the pain of her distrust was still too fresh. He had no idea if he could ever get over it. A song dedication was not enough for him to change his mind. Holly had expressed her regret many times already, but had not once said that she would trust him from then and on.

Hours later, he reentered Adams. As his bar came closer, it became clear to him that something was very wrong. Every light in it was on, including the two, large chandeliers on the ceiling. More than that, each and every one of “The Golden Saviors” motorcycles was parked outside.

“Clay, you son of a bitch… I hope you’ve not turned my bar into a crack house.”

Jake jumped out of his SUV and rushed towards the entrance. However, his negative thoughts quickly fled his mind. In spite of what he suspected, there was no music on whatsoever. As a matter of fact, all he could hear throughout his short sprint was loud chatter and laughter. He ran through the door, only to find Clay’s crew, drinking and obviously having a good time. They were not alone. Jennifer was there as well, working on what appeared to be his laptop.

“Alright, what the hell is this?” His stentorian voice rumbled like thunder, his chest rising up and down.

“Sorry about the door, brother.” Clay winked at him, rising from his seat. “We’ll pay for the drinks. Jennifer had a hunch. We came here to check it out.”

“What kind of hunch?” He asked, turning his face to the left to face her.

“That you’ve been hacked,” she replied, rolling her gaze up to meet his. “This laptop is always facing the façade. And, judging by the amount of dust I saw on it the other night, you never close the lid. I was right. The guy who hacked into your laptop used your wireless connection and the onboard camera to spy on you. He knew Jensen was here that night. That’s why he tried to pin this on you. It gets better. I was able to hack into his system. Remember those four pictures that were used to create the one you gave me? I found them. I’ve pinpointed his location. He’s in old Sherman’s flourmill, two and a half miles east of here.”

Jake did not speak. Eager to finally discover the identity of the man who had unraveled his life, he flipped around and stormed out of his bar. Clay tried to talk to him, but his words passed by him unheard. He had been waiting for this moment for far too long; he wouldn’t let anything or anyone stop him.

“Alright you motherfucker,” he said to himself, starting the engine of his SUV. “Let’s dance.”

All four tires screeched and picked up smoke, as he drove off. The nervousness prior to every mission paled before the one that had already overwhelmed him. Sensing his blood pumping through his veins, Jake set off on perhaps the most important drive of his life.

“Wait till I get my hands on you, you sick fuck. You’re going to pay for everything you’ve put me through. You’ve cost me my Holly, you goddamn piece of shit. By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to beg me to stop. Who are you, you son of a bitch? Who the hell are you? We know him, Jake. Allison knows him, too…”

The flourmill Jennifer was referring to had been abandoned for years. Jake eased on the breaks and turned off his SUV’s headlights, as he turned into the dusty, deserted plot. Quietly, he opened his door and stepped outside, taking a few, furtive looks around him. The starlight helped him locate the front door of the large, aging structure. His shoes sank into the mud, as his slow footsteps brought him closer. A sliver of gold light was peeking through the partially open door.

He pushed it open, feeling his heart thumping in his chest. The sight before him sent shockwaves coursing through his body. Allison was tied to a chair further inside the room, surrounded by computer monitors. Her mouth was duct-taped shut. Moreover, the wall behind her was lined with smaller and bigger pictures of her. Her muffled screams sent shivers of fear slicing through him. Just when he was about to say something, he felt the cold, steel barrel of a gun, pressing against his right temple.

“Captain Isaacs,” a familiar, manly voice filled his ears. He recognized it at once. It belonged to his good, old friend, Austen Rivers. “How nice of you to join us,” he continued, kicking a chair towards Allison. “Have a seat.”

“Rivers,” Jake said through gritted teeth, heading towards the chair. “I saved your ass.”

“Thanks a lot for that, by the way.” He smirked, as Jake obliged.

“Why, Austen?” Jake inquired, fixing his gaze on Rivers’ face. “Killing a fellow officer? Sending pictures to my girlfriend?”

“Jensen had to go.” Austen groaned. “Maybe not the way he did but…” He paused. “I had to make it look personal. I wanted you behind bars. When that went south, I wanted to make you feel the same way I felt, when your girl here shot me down. Pull her gag off. She’ll tell you all about it.”

Intrigued, Jake did as told.

“It’s true.” Allison gasped, turning to him. “He hit on me once, while we were in Iraq. I didn’t want to tell you. You’d get into a fight with him. Fights among officers are punishable by law. We saw each other again, on my flight home.”

“My first leave in more than three years.” Rivers interjected. “Same deal. I asked her out, she turned me down. She said she wanted to see you.”

“And you want to kill us for that?!” Jake roared in rage, narrowing his eyes at him, as Allison gently wept.

“He’s obsessed with me.” She sniffled. “Please, don’t talk to him.”

“Why not you little whore?” Rivers yelled, leaning over her. At that very moment, their attention was drawn by a loud, banging sound. The door flew open and hit the wall behind it. It was Clay, with a shotgun in his hands and a face stone-cold determination.

“Put the gun down, motherfucker,” He grumbled, cocking his weapon, as he lifted it to his face. “I’m not going to ask twice.”

Out of the blue, Rivers’ thin lips curled into a devilish smile, as he stared down at the barrel. Then, he glanced up at Clay, before bursting into loud, evil laughter. Jake tried to take advantage of his distraction, but, as he attempted to sneak up on him, he sensed Allison’s gaze fixed on him.

“No.” She silently mouthed to him.

“Do I amuse you, asshole?” Clay groaned, tightening his grip on his weapon.

“Hell, yeah,” Rivers giggled. “I’m a US marine, you stupid fuck: Sergeant First Class.”

“Sergeant,” Clay smirked. “I reached major. I put on the uniform before you were even born. Now, do what I said, or I’m going to smear your brains all over the fucking wall.”

All of a sudden, Rivers stopped laughing altogether. Jake and Allison watched, as he tried to lift his gun to aim at Clay. He was too slow. Clay pulled the trigger. The powerful, deafening blast sent Austen’s body flying over them. He was thrown against the wall, before landing on a computer monitor, shattering the panel to hundreds of pieces. Relief rushed through Jake. Clay pulled a small knife out of his pocket and threw it to him, as the distinctive rumble of Harley exhaust pipes tore the silence.

“You kids should get out of here.” Clay advised. “My boys and I will take care of this.”

“I can’t thank you enough, man.” Jake stated, as he cut Allison loose.

“Take the blonde and get out.” Clay insisted, the barrel of his shotgun still smoking, as he loosened his grip on the handle. “Go!”

Simply nodding to his friend, Jake walked out of the room, as Clay’s comrades made their way towards the flourmill. At last, his ordeal was over, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that his friend’s troubles were just getting started. He leaned his back against the driver’s seat, as Allison opened the passenger door.

“Sick, twisted bastard…” She mumbled, as he ran both hands through his hair. “Jake this, Jake that… I thought he’d never shut up.”

“Of all the goddamn people,” a bitter smile spread across his face.

“I should have told you about him.” Allison spoke in a lazy tone.

“Look, it’s late.” Jake said, leaning forward. “You can spend the night in my place.”

“Just take me to the ‘Aztec’ hotel.” She suggested, turning her head to the left to face him. “Thanks a lot for the offer, though.”

“No, Allie.” He rejected her idea, his voice calm and steady. “I feel responsible for what you’ve been through. You’re not going to a hotel: period.”