The rush through his veins was as invigorating as it was terrifying. It had been a while since he'd last felt like this. That time, he'd feared for the life of another, watching as the prickly assassin he'd grown to see as a friend risked her life in order to save the people he loved. Now, that fear was back, and it seemed to resonate around the blond hair girl he was pulling behind him.

Roger looked back at her, his heart clenching at her expression. He knew very well that she was just as terrified, but he could see her trying to mask it. To push it aside in order to face what was ahead of them. She focused her gaze on in front, a frown of determination marring her brows. She was so beautiful at that moment and all Roger wanted to do was scoop her into his arms and promise her that she would be safe.

It wasn't the first time he was seeing her like this. One year ago, when he'd rescued her, she'd worn the very same expression.

"Wait here." Swiftly, he pulled her around a corner and pushed her into a storage room. Angela's eyes went wide.

"What the hell—"

"I cannot leave your father," he explained. He didn't have much time to, but he didn't feel well leaving her in the room by herself not knowing what was going on. "I'll go get your parents and come back for you."

"Wait!" She grabbed his sleeve, finally letting her worry spread through her blue eyes. "You can't go back out there. This entire building is basically made out of glass! What if you're shot too?"

"I won't be," he assured her. He'd led her out of the conference room and through several hallways with that risk hanging over their heads. There was no guarantee he would be as lucky the second time, btu he wouldn't say that to her.

Angela seemed to know that herself and was reluctant to let him go. He rested his hand on hers, giving her a reassuring smile. "I'm a spy, remember? I've been through worse. You don't have to worry about me. I'll have your parents back in no time."

Angela's lips tightened but she finally pulled away. To ease her worries, Roger winked at her and was happy to see her scowl at him. Then he closed the door, locking her inside.

It was dangerous. Right now, he stood in a safe spot, hidden from the glass walls that surrounded the building. As beautiful and futuristic as it looked, it made him a prime target for the sniper that was hiding somewhere outside. Perhaps if he could make his way to the other side of the building, he would be safe. The sniper couldn't possibly get over there to set up in time. But right now, the quickest route back to Stephen and Belinda was through that hallway. Which meant he would be exposed.

He waited. He heard the footsteps coming, the frantic men who knew that someone had been shot. Roger couldn't tell if they were running towards the scene or trying to escape, but when they were finally upon him, he ran along with them. He used them as cover as best as he could.

But that didn't last long.

Soon, the crowd he was moving with dispersed and Roger was exposed again. He counted three seconds before he was back to the room. The sniper shot at two.

The bullet pinged off the wall next to him but Roger didn't stop. He nearly lept ahead, safe from the sniper's aim, and rushed back into the room. Stephen was still on the ground, but he was shouting now. His back rested in the lap of a man who was trying to help, but clearly didn't know what to do. Belinda was freaking out above him.

Roger swept into the scene. "Jason!" Stephen gasped, reaching out a bloody hand.

The men crowded Stephen parted, allowing Roger to reach out and grasp his hand. As quickly but tenderly as he could, he swung Stephens' good arm around his shoulders and helped him to his feet.

"Take me to the hospital," Stephen rasped. "Get this bullet out of me!"

Roger didn't respond. He glanced behind him, giving Belinda a look. She straightened and nodded, wiping at her tears.

"Where is the closest exit?" he asked one of the men standing helplessly aside. Before he could respond, Roger added, "Not down the left hallway. I need another one."

"Follow me," the man said hurriedly, rushing out the room. Roger did so, grateful that Stephen and Belinda weren't slowing him down.

All he could think of was Angela locked in that storage room. He needed to get back to her as quickly as he could, but he knew he couldn't leave this task in the hands of anyone else. He'd promised he would fetch her parents and that was exactly what he would do.

Thankfully, this path was safer. As Roger followed the man down the hall and towards the elevator, he knew the sniper wouldn't be able to get them this far, even with the glass walls. He held his hand up to the others who had followed, warding them off from coming into the elevator as well.

"Damn it," Stephen grunted. "This hurts!" Belinda was sobbing.

Roger said nothing. He'd always considered himself a patient man, but right now, it was wearing thin as the slow elevator descended. He needed to get back to Angela.

Finally, they arrived on the first floor. Sirens could be heard. The man ushered them out the elevator and tried to lead them towards the exit of the building. It was crowded with people, onlookers who wanted to see who had gotten shot.

Roger ignored them, turning in the opposite direction.

"W-what are you doing?" Stephen demanded. "The ambulance is right outside. Take me back the other way."

"If we go through those doors, Mr. Staton," Roger told him in a bland voice. "The next bullet will not miss."

Belinda squeaked in fear. In the corner of his eye, Roger saw when Stephen's mouth opened and closed, clearly not knowing what to say. Roger was only happy he didn't bother to protest again. Whether or not he did, Roger already planned to take him somewhere else.

The exit he headed towards was not as crowded, thankfully. It led to the back of the parking lot where Roger could easily see the limousine they'd ridden in parked at the other side. The driver stood at attention when he saw them coming over.

"Keys," Roger ordered.

The driver blinked in bemusement. He looked at Stephen and Stephen nodded at him. With obvious reluctance, the driver handed over the keys then stood back and allowed Roger to help Stephen inside.

"Wait!" Stephen exclaimed suddenly. "You aren't taking me to the hospital, are you? If that's the case, I can't leave without my daughter. Where the hell is she?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Staton," Roger told him. "I'm heading for her right now."

He closed the door on Stephen's next words. The driver stood at attention when Roger gave him a pointed look. The message was clear: watch them until I get back.

And then was off.

He was happy he didn't have Stephen's body weighing down on him. He was happy he was safe rushing back into the building and that no one paid him any mind even though he had blood on his clothes. Knowing that the elevator was bound to drive him mad, Roger burst through the fire escape exit and pounded up the stairs.

He was back on that floor in minutes. A tad breathless, he braved the hall again, racing towards the storage room where Angela was. No bullets followed him this time. He swung the door open, heaving.

Angela's eyes snapped up to his, her eyes wide with fear. She was clutching the front of her dress, breathing so heavily it was as if she'd just run a marathon. Relief flooded her eyes the moment she realized it was him and, before Roger knew it, she threw herself at him.

The feel of her arms around his waist shocked him into stillness. His hands hung stiffly at his side, his mind going blank. She smelled so wonderful, so perfect despite the chaos that was around them.

"I thought..." Her breath hitched. Roger's heart panged at the thought that she might be crying. "I was afraid...Don't ever lock me in there again."

All of a sudden, it hit him. The reason she'd left the States a year ago. The reason he'd first seen that look of fear on her face, that debilitating horror that had taken hold of her. It had all begun with her kidnapping—when she'd been locked in a room.

Roger knew that back then, the room had been luxurious. Spacious and befitting a girl of her stature. But she'd seen and heard things that had broken her. When he'd saved her, he hadn't the heart to ask her what it was. He still didn't.

The words were rushing to his tongue. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I wasn't thinking—"

"Save it." She stepped away from, drawing in a shuddering breath. She wasn't crying, thank God. Angela looked around, noticing that they were alone. "Where are they? Didn't you say you were going back for my parents?"

"They're safe and they're waiting for you. We have to go."

"Is my father on his way to the hospital?" Angela asked even as she took off behind him. Roger shook his head. "What do you mean? He was shot! Why aren't you getting him the help he needs?"

"It's too dangerous," was all he said in response. They didn't go back the way they'd come. Instead, Roger managed to find another escape door and they descended that way, their footsteps echoing around them.

"Having him bleed to death is just as dangerous!" she snapped.

"It isn't so bad an injury," Roger explained. His voice was oddly calm considering the way his heart raced. "He'll be fine."

"And Mom?" she asked. "What about her? Is she fine?"

Roger glanced back at Angela but she was too focused watching her hurried steps to notice his look. "She's uninjured."

He could have sworn she breathed a sigh.

At long last, the made it to the first floor again. Roger slowed his steps to casual walk, lifting his collars up to hide the blood. Angela did the same. She strolled with the same usual confidence she normally had, despite the fact that her hands were trembling. They said nothing to each other as they made their way out the lobby and into the parking lot. Then, they began to pick up the pace. When she spotted the limousine and the driver, Angela rushed ahead.

"Head back on your own," Roger told the driver, watching as Angela crawled into the back. She heard her call to her father before the door shut. He didn't bother to hear what the driver had to say. With the keys in his hand, he hurried around to the front and got in.

He could hear them talking around the back, but it was muffled through the glass that separated them. Roger decided to focus on the task ahead of him. It would be difficult remaining nondescript in a vehicle such as this but it was their only option. And, considering the fact that the assassin wouldn't be able to get into a better position to take them out, they should be safe.

The moment he heard a bullet ping off the door, Roger knew that he was wrong.

This doesn't make any sense! How?

They were heading away from the building, too far from the sniper. How could they possibly get to them already?

He didn't question it any more. He floored the vehicle, holding one hand on the horn to ward everyone away. Cars parted to let the speeding limousine through even as another bullet went through the roof.

"Roger!" Angela screamed from behind, the sound seemingly piercing through the glass.

He didn't care that she'd just revealed him. Things were already getting dangerous, messing with the plan. It meant it was likely he would have to reveal himself too soon enough.

"Hold on!" he bellowed and whipped the car into traffic.

***

They lost the sniper, but Roger didn't stop. Not until he was serving the limousine into the underground parking lot of a three-storied apartment building. He hastily stashed the vehicle in a corner before hopping out and getting to the door.

"Is everyone alright?"

"Does it look like I'm alright?" Stephen snapped. Angela exited first, then turned to help her father out the vehicle. "With that sort of driving, you nearly sent me through the goddamn window."

"It was either I drive like a madman, or you get a bullet in your head. You should have told me if you wanted the latter." Roger ignored Angela's shocked look as he swept in to help Stephen. He ignored Stephen's surprise too. It was quite out of character for Jason, but not for Roger.

"You think he'll come for us here?" Belinda asked. She scurried behind as Roger led the way to the elevator, wringing her hands. "It isn't that far from where we were."

"They might find us, yes. But we'll be moving before we do."

Stephen grunted in pain again and Angela rushed to his side. Her own hands were bloody and she hovered worriedly over her father, tendrils of her blond hair falling over her face. Roger faced himself to stare at the elevator doors.

Soon enough, they made it to the top floor. He was happy he didn't have to tell them to keep quiet and he led the way to his apartment building. Lifting the security panel, he inputted the code and listened to the door being unlocked.

Angela opened it, swinging it wide to admit them all in. Roger instantly led Stephen over to his cream-colored couch.

"Damn it!" Stephen hissed as he was lowered down. While Belinda chose to pace back and forth by the door, Angela stayed by her father's side. She looked desperately at Roger.

Roger wished he could tell her all the words she'd like to hear. That they were safe now. That no one would hurt them. That he knew exactly where to go to find that sniper. But none of it would be the truth, so he only said the one thing he could. "He'll be fine." Then, he disappeared into his room.

Stephen's wound was a graze. The bullet has sliced through his skin, probably even took out a bit of muscle, but there were no remains of it in his flesh. Which meant Roger wouldn't have to waste time pulling one out. He could bandage it up for now and leave it be until Stephen got the help he needed.

He returned with a kit and settled down on the couch, very aware of Angela's presence over his shoulder.

First, he cut away at the fabric, peeling it out of the wound. Every time Stephen hissed, Angela flinched. Every time she flinched, Roger tried to move a little more tenderly.

Then, he cleaned the wound and set about dressing it. He didn't have the time to sit and stitch it up so he left it bed, bandaging it. Once he was done, he said, "When you go to the hospital, make sure they do the stitching."

Stephen's eyes flickered up to him with a frown. "I thought you said the hospital is unsafe."

"For now. Once everything has died down, you should be fine. I'll be taking you all back to your mansion in a few hours."

"Do you know what the hell is going on here?" Belinda screeched. She looked a mess, her mascara smudged and her cheeks stained with tears. "How can you be so calm? Your boss was just shot, for God's sake! How do you know if we'll be safe or not?"

"I don't," Roger told her calmly. "But there is a high chance that whoever did this will want to regroup. They won't be expecting you to come here, so being here will not only wear them down, but will also give the reporters time to gather. It'll be safer once there are more people around."

"So, you want to wait until they get to our home so that the crowd will scare the sniper away?" Angela asked, her voice oddly soft.

Roger tried not to look at her by packing everything back into his kit. "Essentially. Again, it might not work. But if they can avoid any causalities, I'm sure they sniper will try."

"God," Stephen sighed, resting his head on the back of the couch. "On the day I announce my running too. Why the hell did this have to happen?"

Roger was wondering the same thing. This wasn't in the plan at all.

He rose, bringing the kit back into the room. He closed the door behind him, left it by the bed, and pulled out his burner. He dialed Tami instantly.

"Roger." Her voice was professionally clipped. "What's going on?"

"I don't have a clue," Roger admitted. "First the explosion, now this."

"You think someone is trying to take out Stephen?"

He'd considered the thought. While he got them to the limousine, while he drove, while he bandaged Stephen up. Throughout it all, Roger could only ask himself one question: who are they targeting?

And he could only think of one answer. The explosion hadn't been for Angela to get to Stephen. And that bullet hadn't been for Stephen, either. There was only reasonable response and it pointed to the gorgeous girl on the other side of the door who was trying not to freak out.

"No," he said grimly, staring at his room door. It was as if he could see Angela poised on the other side. "Whoever this bastard is, they're coming for her."

--

Damn, they just won't know any peace, will they? How many of you are feeling sorry for Angela? I know I am!