Friend or Foe?

Reese makes his call with Nate brief, accepting the information and instructing them to do their best and cleaning up the scene and getting back to TJY as soon as possible before they head to the hospital.
Ending the call, he picks up the phone again, dialing Katie. "They made it out with Jamie...some of the guys are still there, but they're okay. Con should actually be on the way to the hospital now with Jamie - it's too severe for Rick to handle. ...Thanks for your help, Katie...couldn't have done it without you."


Con reaches up to take Jamie's hand. It feels so small compared to his own. "Shh...don't try to talk. Just relax." His pent-up emotions build as tears that finally fill his eyes, but he wills them not to overflow.

He glances to the front at Hal. "Can't you make this thing go any faster?"

Hal keeps his eyes on the road, knowing the urgency of the situation. "Not unless you want us all to end up in the hospital. We're almost there, Con."

Con cradles Jamie, trying to make her the most comfortable as possible.

The hospital finally comes into view and Con wastes no time in getting out and picking Jamie up in his arms once again.

Once inside, everything turns to chaos. Con yells for help, several doctors and nurses come running, firing off a million and one questions. Someone comes with a stretcher, someone else tells Hal and Chris to stay in the waiting room. Con manages to follow to the third floor O.R. but he's finally stopped by the doctor, not allowed to enter. The doors swing shut, Con's eyes lingering on them, the stress and worry wearing him down.

The weight of the last few days presses down on him, trying to break him. He wanders back down the hall, hearing pages over the intercom, seeing visitors down the hall, seeing doctors run by. It's all a blur.

Back down to the second floor, Con slowly walks the hall. It's familiar here from visiting Katie, but his eyes find it hard to recognize anything. He looks down, realizing the blood on his shirt...some his own, some Jamie's. He almost feels like he's going to be sick.

Suddenly he sees a welcoming door at the end of the hall. It was the small chapel, available to patients or visitors. Drawn in by sheer desperation, Con finds himself in the warm room. It is quiet. No one else is there. Vases of flowers are set on several small tables, a few chairs are set up, and candles accent the far wall where a cross hangs.
His heart in turmoil, Con slowly approaches to look up at the cross, a reminder of what really matters...a reminder of who is in control...a reminder of love.

Con sinks to his knees, the anger, hate, horror, desperation and fear surging through his heart. Doubling over, he buries his face in his hands, feeling his own tears as they fall.


As Jason is joined by Wyatt and Nate, he slings his rifle over his back and heads to where Carson had fallen. Not much is said until he sees the body. He approaches slowly and takes his boot to roll the thug over.

Carson winces in pain and stares up a the three faces.

Jason's eyes widen. "How could I have missed?"

"You didn't." Carson withdraws his hand from a wound to the edge of his chest, below his shoulder, just far enough away from anything vital that it hadn't killed him. "I tripped right as you pulled the trigger."

Jason swings his rifle back around and points it to Caron's head. "And what's to stop me from finishing you off now?"

"Nothing." Carson tries to catch his breath, fighting fatigue and pain from his injury. "But if you kill me now, my guess will have been wrong."

"And what was your guess?"

"That you all are an honorable group of people."

Jason swallows hard and exchanges a glance with Wyatt and Nate. He withdraws his rifle, unable to kill like this. "If we let you go, we're putting ourselves in danger. You know that."

Carson nods, propping himself up on an elbow, but still not making a move to rise from the ground. "I didn't think you'd make it this far. I've never seen anyone stand up to the Agency like this before and actually win a battle."

"And what? You want us to let you go so you can tell your boss about us and he can turn up the heat another notch?"

Carson shakes his head. "No, but I can help you."

Jason raises an eyebrow. "Help us? How?"

"I'm in with the Agency. I'm pretty high ranking, if you know what I mean. I can feed you information. You're out to ultimately take them down, aren't you?"

Wyatt steps in, his own suspicions raised. "Who wouldn't want to take them down? But why should you care? You just tortured a friend of ours without blinking, and my guess would be that it's not the first time. Why would you even want to help us?"

"Because you've given me hope." Carson looks up at them, searching their eyes, his own conveying a look of longing that he hasn't dared express until now. "I didn't think anyone existed who would even try to go against the Agency, let alone succeed."

"Why do you want to see them go down?"

Carson gives a sorry laugh. "It's not just people like you that the Agency has hurt, ya know. You think I'm here because I volunteered? I've done an awful lot of bad things, and I deserve that bullet through the head. I should have died a few minutes ago." He pauses, still short of breath as the pain increases. "This sounds so ridiculous, but...that girl...Jamie..." He shakes his head again. "I don't know why, but something about her.... her courage...her...her forgiveness. It was enough to make me realize that there was something else out there. Something better. I don't know what it is, but I'm willing to try and find it."

"You were going to leave her there to die," Jason counters angrily.

"I was trying to save my own hide," Carson admits. "I didn't want her to die...but I felt trapped. I was trying to get the other guys to leave her there while she was still alive in the hopes someone would find her before it was too late." He allows another pause. "Look, at the very least, turn me in to the feds so I can serve my time behind bars. If I can't go back to the Agency to work for you, I'll take prison."

"For what?" Jason scoffs. "The cops don't even believe an Agency exists, and those that do are in on it, not against it. We could turn you in for murder, but there would be no proof of anything. Kidnapping would be the worst of it if Jamie survives and can testify." He turns to Wyatt and Nate, at a loss. "What do we do?"