Brock thought the team was about to jump at his throat when he entered the hotel lobby alone. They were with Russell in the lounge area, and got to their feet with half-questioning, half-menacing frowns.

"Gillian's sleeping in the SUV," he said, anticipating any question, and turned to Aldana. "Can you please get her things?"

Aldana pointed at one of the duffel bags by the couch.

"She okay?" asked Ron, worried.

Brock nodded, ignoring Fred's suspicious stare at him. "Guess she's just tired." The sniper's eyes reminded him of the red dot of light on Bailey's forehead the night before. They felt exactly the same on him.

"Okay, then let's go." Russell smiled, turning to Brock. "We'll be waiting for you outside."

Brock needed only five minutes to get his stuff from his room, used as he was to moving around. And out of the hotel he found the team gathered not a step away from where Gillian was still sound asleep, as if they just happened to stop by the SUV to talk. As he approached them, he saw Aldana's car was there as well. She handed him Gillian's rain jacket.

"In case she gets cold," she said, then gave him Gillian's thermos bottle full of coffee. "In case she wakes up."

He got in the SUV, covered Gillian with her jacket and started the engine. Only then did the others go to their vehicles. Russell left the parking lot first and Aldana followed. None of the other three geared in until Brock did, and they stayed behind him the whole way back, always in his rearview, like some kind of detail.

Gillian opened her eyes when they were near Framingham, only twenty minutes out of Boston, and the first thing she saw was Brock's profile against the pouring rain, his eternal scowl fixed ahead. He wasn't stiff or tense, though. He seemed lost in thought.

She rubbed her face, careful not to press her bruises, and straightened in her seat slowly. The signs by the road told her where they were, and she recognized the cars ahead and behind the SUV.

Brock glanced at her and saw her mild frown as she slipped her arms into her jacket. He reached between their seats and handed her the thermos bottle, eyes back on the road.

"Oh, gosh, thank you," she muttered, grabbing it with both hands.

"You're cold?" he asked, his hand on the heat switch.

"I'm fine," she said, and checked the time. "Did I sleep two hours?"

"You needed it."

She offered him a coffee, but he politely declined, so she poured one for herself and leaned back in her seat, to enjoy the comforting warmth spreading over her chest and the— Like hell. She fished her phone from her bag and her finger froze before dialing Aldana, as she swallowed a mocking scoff at herself. She dropped the phone into her bag and rested back with a discreet smile against the steel cup.

Okay, let's enjoy the silence.

With Brock.