Prologue

Cold. Dark. Imprisoned. Rotting Stench. Screaming Pain. How long has she been here? Her body aches. Her spirit numb from conditions no human could long endure. Some part of her fading existence registers a gnawing sensation and terrifying sounds at her cheek. Scurrying activity of rodents surrounds her. Weakly protesting her repulsion her raised hand attempts to brush off the offender. Slicing pain rips raggedly through every nerve shutting down all physical responses more effectively than an electrical overload. From a long distance in a far away place the advancing sound of rats and the night eyes of slithering creatures assaults her ever-deadening senses. She closes her eyes and concentrates on the faces eerily wafting behind her eyelids. A tall man; sun-darkened, thick black hair raked through with hands tender and familiar. Warmth. Passion. Blue eyes gaze upon her with love and grief and determination. Hers. Rhys. Two children: the same but different. A fair skinned girl; waist length dark brown hair and expressive brown eyes. "Mommy". Hers. Sierra. A dark skinned and dark hair boy. Mischievous Adventurous. Eyes like the man. He whispers excitement, "Mommy." Hers. Jon. Now a gruff man. Loyal, Faithful. Friend. DEA.Gabe. "You must tell him. Don't leave like this." "Alright then, it's your way." Dry bile claws up her throat. Nausea saturates her near-numb senses. She concentrates on the faces in her mind. A toddler. Her heart squeezes. Her breath catches. Her breasts ache with echoes of nourishment. A toddler. A olive-skinned miniature Rhys. Tristan Alaric. "Wolf". Soft baby breath. Pudgy baby hugs. The anchoring images began to fade. No. Don't Go. How long has she been here? Screaming Pain. Rotting Stench. Imprisoned. Dark. Cold.

One Month Earlier
Westcliffe, Colorado

"Daddy, when is mommy coming home?" Sierra asked, her voice wavering with unshed tears. "Soon Baby," her father replied as he prayed his very smart daughter would leave it at that. "But it has been nine days and you said she would be back in one week. That's seven days. She's late!" Of course she wouldn't leave it at that. Now Jonathan Reese was intently looking at him for a response. Rhys resettled Wolf on his lap, embraced Sierra as she cuddled next to him on one side and placed a kiss between Jon's accusingly staring eyes-he really was the very image of his mother. "OK gang, here's the deal. We are going to finish reading about the fun of eating green eggs and ham. Then, we are going to read mommy's last note to us. Then you three are going to bed. The sooner you do. The sooner mommy just may come home from work with Uncle Gabe tomorrow. OK Jon, it's your turn to read a page." Thankfully the children were falling in with his plan. As eight year-old Jon read about resistance to change in the world of Dr Seuss, his twin, Sierra, followed along ready to dispute any incorrectly pronounced word. Three year-old Tristan Alaric, "Wolf", was sound asleep.

Where was she?! "She" was Skye, his wife of nine years and a Drug Enforcement Administration consultant. Prior to their marriage she had been an acclaimed DEA undercover agent. Indeed, they had met when she was his undercover bodyguard during a DEA operation in Colorado, Peru, and Ecuador. Of course given her numerous facades and disguises he hadn't known who she was until well into the most dangerous phase of the operation which included their pseudo marriage, a drug cartel, and an abundance of murderous intents. Willing to risk her life for his in the fury of an assassin he had thwarted her plans and earned a bullet wound for his trouble. With a bit of deft computer wizardry their pseudo marriage had become very real and she had traded her active fieldwork for the position of an "as needed" consultant upon learning of her first pregnancy. Up until last week, their nine years of marriage was characterized primarily by her prioritizing him and their children at their home in Greenwood, Mississippi. Her other activities included limited involvement with the DEA, her part time professorship at the local colleges, and overseeing her local air charter business.

This all changed last week while he'd been in the middle of a monthly board meeting of his company, Genoreach Technologies, a company dedicated to research and development of bioinformatic technologies and philanthropic endeavors. There had been journalists present as the week prior Genoreach had successfully demonstrated reciprocal communication with a comatose patient via information systems. The subject of donating 200 computers to impoverished public schools in the Appalachian mountain range and the Mississippi Delta was underway when his secretary slipped him a note informing him that Skye was waiting in his office and urgently needed to speak with him. His piecing blue eyes widened in surprise and he anxiously raked his hand through the raven thickness of his shoulder length hair. He quickly excused himself after placing the reins of the meeting in the hands of a department head. Upon entering his office he found his beautiful wife standing behind his oak desk basked in the sunshine spilling through the wall-length window behind her. She was of Spanish and African-American heritage dressed in a short black leather jacket, white t-shirt, light blue jeans and black heels; soft black curls surrounded the golden skin of her face and fell about her shoulders. Her appearance today was at least a decade younger than her 43 years; a consummate actress she could convincingly portray a teenager or an old gaunt hag with equal ease. Her full lips curved as she smiled down at the picture of their children prominently placed on his desk. There were two pictures of her flanking the children's picture. "Skye, what is it? Are the children in trouble?" He'd asked as he entered his office and circled the desk to move toward her; his six-foot frame looming over her by five inches. "They're fine." She'd replied with a bright smile; too bright. He knew her well and she was about to drop a big one on him. Before she could say another word he enveloped her in his arms. Slightly tilting her head back he gazed into her eyes and saw worlds there. There was the fall and rise of his life; love and fulfillment were there. Releasing a sigh of gratitude he pressed his mouth gently to hers and replenished his soul. Moving his hands to her face, he caressed the soft vulnerability of her slender neck and deepened the kiss. He trailed gentle kisses along her cheek and into her black silken hair. "Ahhh Rhys" she softly moaned, "I do love you." He smiled down at her, "you'd be wise not to incriminate yourself with that confession darling, I'll hold you to it for the rest of our lives." he teased before gazing into her eyes for long moments. "Whatever you are about to tell me. Whatever argument or disagreement we are about to have. Know that I love you too. Nothing will ever change that. I'd give my life.again.for you." Skye's eyes darkened with remembered horror at the image of Rhys death-prone body after his encounter with a deadly assassin in Ecuador during their only mission together years ago. That event had exquisitely clarified the feelings she had for him. "Fortunately, you won't have to take such drastic actions this time. I need to pilot a mission to Buenos Aires. I'll be gone for a week. Nothing dangerous just an out and back." She assured before suggesting "The kids are out of school next week. Why not take to them to the cabin in Colorado for a short vacation?" Rhys knew this explanation was a pale version of the truth. "Not good enough, honey, give me more." "You are so demanding Rhys! I wish you'd confine your voracious appetites to our bedroom!" She pouted in invitation for him to share in her humor. There was Jon's face when he demanded his way. Now Rhys was beginning to get really nervous. She was trying to divert him. Redirect his attention. Appeal to his humor and his sexuality. "Again, it won't work. Skye, you haven't been on a mission in over nine years. At your insistence, not mine, you resigned from field work because of the inherent dangers. Have the children slipped in your priorities?" "Not Fair, Rhys!" she riposted, "It is only an out and back!" she glowered petulantly, her temper rising at his dogged queries. Rhys steadfastly refused digression, "Don't treat me like a stranger. Like a person who can't tell when you are blatantly lying to protect me from the truth. Tell me precisely what is going on. What could possibly entice you to now set aside all your very logical and sensible decisions to put this life behind you?" Rhys stalked near her, his voice now a whisper as he reached for her chin and secured it in his right hand. "By God, you had better tell me the truth or I will follow you to the ends of the earth for the answer. And you know I will! But first I'll beat Gabe to a bloody oblivion for allowing you to even consider this lunacy." Skye's eyes widened at his threat to the mission and the life of her mentor, boss, and friend, Gabe Kinski, Chief of DEA Special Operations. "Stop it Rhys! You're beginning to scare me." Skye whispered emphatically, her mouth slightly trembling with emotion. Her eyes shimmered fearfully. "Bravo Darling!" he smiled mirthlessly while raising an index finger before continuing, "One, I know what a brilliant actress you are, and" he raised another finger, "Two, you have never been threatened by me in your life. I don't think anyone has ever had that dubious distinction of causing you to feel threatened. Enough games, Skye! All cards on the table, face up!" Skye thoughtfully scrutinized him and concluded what she already knew. This man knew her too well. It was stupid of her to underestimate him. "Let's take a walk" she requested while moving toward the door. Without question, Rhys took her hand and led her from his office. From past experience he knew she sought to avoid the possibility that his office could be bugged. They paused by his secretary's desk to request that she inform the board meeting participants of his continued delay. Skye led him to the roof of his building where the gently warmth of the May breeze did little to thaw the chill of anticipated fear building in Rhys.

Skye walked alone to the edge of the roof and gazed down upon the teeming activities of Memphis, Tennessee. Her loose hair wafted on the warm breeze and her gaze was steady and unwavering. Rhys knew she had to find her own rhythm and telling. He suddenly felt that nine years of sharing and merging and producing had meant nothing to her. She still held to her inviolate refusal to impart any information to those who did not have a "need to know." He felt both sad and proud of her convictions. She was a good agent; the best. He knew he could trust his life and more importantly their children's lives in her hands. There were crisis beyond them and bigger than them in this world. He was sorry he could not help her share in these burdens. "I didn't lie to you Rhys. There is a situation in Argentina that we can't get a handle on. There are several agents working it. I've provided cultural and intel consultations from the beginning. My role is simply to provide covert air transport." She concluded. "Skye, we both know there are plenty of competent pilots who can do this. Your consultation has been more than sufficient." Rhys argued. "I need to do this." She emphasized forcefully, then in softer persistence, "While I'm away please take the children to our cabin in Colorado." She continued to gaze down upon the Memphis bustle with her back to him. "That is the second time you've suggested I take my children to Colorado" Rhys's voice became low and dangerous. He firmly gripped her arm and pulled her around to faced him, "Why?" The tone of his demand and the malevolence emanating from him left no escape and brooked no refusal. Before his eyes all her facades vanished. She appeared to age before his eyes. Weariness descended on her and she lashed out, "I wish I didn't have to deal with you; you are wasting my time." Stay focused. Rhys reminded himself. This is no act. She is cornered and reacting. Rhys fixed his gaze immovably on hers and refused the argument, "Again, why have you twice made mention of my children." "You've obviously forgotten that they are my children too!" she bit reflexively at his possessiveness. Rhys's eyes continued to bore down into her face. She attempted to shrug off his hand from her arm with no success; given her lethal defense training they both knew she merely allowed his gripping hold on her. With her free arm she reached into her leather jacket and extracted a folded sheet of paper. Wordlessly she handed it to him. Rhys finally loosed his grip from his wife's arm and took the offered paper. He unfolded it and found an email message in Spanish signed by "Tristan Alaric." Horror filled Rhys eyes and he found it reflected in his wife's face. She reached into her jacket again and proffered another letter. Rhys snatched it from her and unfolded the missive. Again, written in Spanish, this time signed, "Wolf." Before he could look up she handed him two more messages; one signed "Tristan Alaric Wolf" another simply "Tristan Alaric"

"What is this?" Rhys asked, his voice harsh and cracking. Skye walked away from him to take up her former position at the roof's edge, "It could be a coincidence, someone who shares the same name as our son. Or it could be my past catching up with me and my son having to pay the price for my sins" she responded; the sorrow in her voice reflected by an escaping tear trailing down her face. After long moments she continued, "the intercepted email traffic was heavily encrypted; it took the administration quite some time to decipher. The messages merely refer to minor routine drug activity in Argentina and Bolivia. There is some connection to Ushuaia, Argentina and the Antarctic regions but we are unsure of what it is. We normally would not even pursue this low level activity. Gabe first noticed the name, that's why he has initiated this mission. I am only the pilot." As Skye gazed over the city she noted the increasing rush hour traffic below before concentrating on the man standing behind her. Please let it go, Rhys. Stop probing. "What are you not telling me?" Rhys quietly asked. Skye refused to answer. She felt him move toward her. She felt him at her back. She expected him to bully her, insist or threaten. He gently slipped his arms about her waist and pulled her close; laying his face tenderly against her head. "Tell me all of it, Skye" he insisted. She was undone! "Gabe insists there is no way a trail could lead to me as all information flows were masked and my role in Peru and Ecuador were untraceable to the DEA. Gabe contends that you are the thread. The retaliation, if this is malignant, is directed at you." Ragged breath escaped from an anguished soul. Skye clutched at his hands embracing her and held them tightly. "My primary role is pilot, my subordinate task is to identity anyone from our time together nine years ago. I'll be disguised, as usual, and nowhere near the front lines. Trust me, Rhys, to take care of this. Please trust me, Rhys." She begged. "I trust you" he soothed. "I need to leave tonight. I'm on my way to the Virginia Headquarters now. I have seven letters for the children to keep them from worrying-one for each day. Rhys, will you please go to Colorado?" She begged again. "We'll go tomorrow morning" he agreed. Skye sighed in relief and collapsed against him surprised at how tense she had been, "Thank You." He turned her around to face him and covered her mouth with a deep kiss that left her soul raw. She felt the raging beast of anger and helplessness and fear uncoil in him as he drug his mouth from hers to rain caresses on her face, into her hair and along her neck. His hands roughly pulled her into himself while she whispered words of comfort and assurance. In the midst of their private storm they heard a distant clearing of a throat. "What?" Rhys barked out the question while never slackening his embrace. "Rhys, the journalists are ready for the interview and the board requires your actions before adjourning" his secretary crisply responded. "I'll be right there" Rhys informed her as she quickly retreated from the maelstrom of their unity; briefly he wondered how she knew to find them on the roof. Rhys tucked Skye's hair behind one ear and placed his mouth next to her ear, "If you are not back in exactly one week I will go to Argentina and find you." Alarm chilled through her at the destruction he could unleash on this mission. "Please don't. . ." His look cut off her plea. It was a look she had never seen in the nine years she had known and loved him. Gently he smoothed her cheek with the back of his hand and buried his face in her hair while inhaling deeply of her lavender scent. "I love you Skye. I'll see you real soon" he both comforted and issued the warning before taking her hand and leading her from the roof, down the elevator, and to the glass double door exit of his building. Another branding kiss and she was gone. Deep in thought he made his way to the boardroom.

"... Thank you. Thank you. Sam-I-Am. The End" Sierra concluded. "Very Good. You both read so well despite the fact it is much too easy for you! I bet you'll win the reading award again next year at school" Rhys congratulated at the beaming children. "Daddy read mommy's letter now" Rhys nodded at his oldest son and his breath caught at Jon's focus. There was Skye bathing him in her love and need. He banished those thoughts and gently pushed Jon's head back against the sofa pillows resulting in his peals of giggles. Rhys reached for the letter and unfolded it before reading:

"To my beautiful angels Sierra, Jon, and Wolf. Mommy loves you very much. I'm going to tell you a secret. One day you three will be a big person-an adult and you will help people to be healthy and happy and safe. You will make God and me and Daddy very proud of you; as we are very proud of you now. Have good and funny dreams tonight and remember to say your prayers because I am praying for you and Daddy. I love you very much! Mom"

The mood was suddenly somber and the twins' eyes were suspiciously moist. "OK Jon looks like you claimed the sofa for tonight. Sierra, do you want to sleep on the sofa again tonight?" Rhys asked to lighten their moods. "Daddy, I love living here in the cabin-I'm going to sleep in the loft tonight!" Sierra decreed with excitement. "Be careful climbing that ladder, honey. Remember your prayers," her father reminded as she headed toward the loft stairs. Jonathan was settling in on the couch and Rhys tucked him into the blankets. Hoisting Wolf to his shoulder he carried him into the single bedroom and navigated the oversized pastel pillows strewn on the floor to place him on the lavender quilted bed of silk and crochet.

Rhys dimmed all the lights in the cabin and stepped outside onto the deck. He stared questioningly into the starry sky as thoughts leapt unbidden in his heart. "Where are you Skye? Are you well? Are you hurt? I know you are alive because I can feel you! Your week has expired. As promised, I'm going to find you!"

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