Sera gritted her teeth against the ripple of pain soaring through her shoulder and attempted to struggle her way out of the hold Frank had on her.

"You gotta do better than this, girly. How are you gonna free yourself?"

She grunted, kicked her feet and wriggled, her own actions twisting her arm even more and she cried out in misery and frustration.

Frank huffed and abruptly released her, letting her drop to the damp, lush jungle vegetation then stomped a pace. He glared down as she rubbed her shoulder and groaned.

"You're not using your fucking head, little girl. We don't have a lot of time here and you are fucking playing games!"

"Don't swear at me!"

He dropped to one knee and pressed his nose against hers. "You're not giving the orders here!" he shouted, his breath pushing her hair back. "Now, stand up and we'll try this again."

"You have got to be kidding," she moaned and crawled to her feet. The heat was damp and unbearable, her body ached and her mind was becoming mush. This had been going on for weeks. Just what did the man want from her? "Fine, fine."

She stood; slack and belligerent, eyeing him with a superiority Frank Beeker wasn't used to seeing in heaven or on earth. The training wasn't going well. Not well at all. There was a vital piece missing in the simulation and he was beginning to figure it out. Everything seemed real, the pissing rain and staggering African jungle heat, the sounds and scents. Even her body had been altered to completely give her the human experience of physical hardship. It wasn't Elite Guardian Sera's body or the near perfect surroundings that were the issue. It was time to take this thing to the next level.

"Get moving," he growled and she lifted her backpack, carelessly slinging it over her aching shoulder and held out her hand. "Ladies first." Frank's grin was wicked and she blinked.

"What now?"

"March, soldier!"

She tramped ahead, picking her way around trees, her boots sinking an inch into the spongy earth. Her mind wondered. She thought about Terry and wondered how he was doing. She wondered if she'd ever get another opportunity to sense Felicity's memories. Lisy had become her guide to Terry's inner life, to his heart and his feelings. It was hard to imagine the joy and comfort of Lisy's gentle soul while suffering in a simulated Africa.

What Frank was doing was a bafflement. It seemed insane for her to be put through such grueling training. "You know Sergeant; I already respect the difficulties of human soldiers. I don't see how this is necessary, I - "

The sudden sound of a discharged pistol startled her, but something far more ominous was happening. In the blink of an eye, she dropped to the ground like a marionette cut from its strings. An excruciating sting tore through the flesh of her thigh and she rolled over. "Oh! Oh!" Blood poured from the wound at an alarming rate and she shot a desperate glare at Frank. "Oh! Oh!" Tugging achingly, she managed to lean her back against a sturdy tree. "What have you done?"

Frank slid his pistol into its case, looked down at her and hissed. "Why do you think this happened, little girl?"

Pressing her palm against the gushing flow, she spat up at him. "Because you're crazy! Why would you do this?"

"You didn't answer my question. Why did this happen? Answer me!"

"I wasn't paying attention, sir!"

"Now, what are you going to do?"

She watched the blood, mesmerized by the warmth of it, the numbness of the area surrounding the wound, the strange dullness crawling into her brain.

"Getting light headed little girly? Well, you better think fast. What are you gonna do? Think!"

Sera felt anger raise a tremble in her hands but she didn't answer, didn't move.

"You don't get it, do you soldier? See, this is real. Right this moment, you are human . . . and I know what's going through your pretty little head. You're thinking, 'so what'. But it's not like that anymore, little Guardian. See, if you die, you won't be going back to heaven. You won't be going back to your cushy job. You won't be watching over Mr. Thorne. If you fail at this and you die, you'll be like the rest of us nobodies, walking around in fucking limbo.

"So, you wanna fail? No? No? Then, what the fuck are you going to do to save yourself!"

Suddenly, Frank disappeared. Sera blinked then looked down at her bleeding thigh. Tears slid down her face and she pressed her palm harder onto the wound.

***

"What are you doing!" Paul shouted as Frank blinked in the fact that he was no longer in the jungle, but standing in the Master Guardian's pristine office.

"What the fuck have you done? Put me back there right now!"

"Not until you explain the meaning of this!"

Frank was on Paul in two long strides, his forearm pressing against the archangel's throat. Paul struggled but he was helpless.

"Listen to me, you pompous fucking freak. You let me do this my way or let me out of this assignment. How the fuck do you expect her to have the instincts to survive if she thinks it's no big deal? If she thinks she'll just go back to her comfortable, superior life? You think having that safety net will make her want to stay alive? It won't! I need to get her to believe that she could die . . . and that it will be her failure . . . or this is a useless waste of my time!"

"There is no need to deceive her," Paul gasped, his hands gripping at Frank's arm.

"It's not the deceiving part that's got your nice white shorts in a knot. It's the hurting part. The bleeding part. I fucking warned you! Now," he stepped back and freed the Master Guardian, allowing a moment for him to catch his breath then continued. "Either you end this exercise or you never . . . ever . . . interrupt my training again. You let me do this my way, or you let me out of this fiasco."

Paul was blinking, leaning back against the wall.

"I see I'm finally getting through to you, huh. There is only one way to do this. It's got squat to do with my ego or my strength over her in there. It's got to do with survival. I gotta make her believe that she can fail in order to make her develop her sense of survival. You think I like hurting her?"

Paul shook his head and sighed. "How far will this go?"

"As far as it needs to. She's not an idiot, Sera knows the drill and she can do the paces, she just needs to put human emotion to it." They both turned to the screen and watched Sera tug her belt free then tighten it over her leg. "Yeah," Frank groaned, "she's in a lot of pain, she's losing a lot of blood, but I have a plan. She'll get through this, but each test is gonna get tougher. Are we doing this or not?"

***

When the phone rang, Terry was rushing around his apartment, stuffing clothes in his duffle as Henry shuffled around the bathroom filling a toiletries bag.

"Fuck!" Terry snapped the receiver up to his ear. "Yeah, Thorne."

"It's me," Dino's voice rumbled through the receiver.

"Yeah, I'm six hours from you, flight's in thirty-five minutes. No time to chat, mate. Something up?"

"Cancel the flight, Terry. It went down."

Terry sat on the bed, shoving his duffle aside. "You got him?"

"Yeah, man. Caught a bullet too."

"What? Fuck, Dino! I told ya to bloody wait for me!"

"Why? You wanted to go front line? It came down fast and I made the decision, Terry."

"You didn't fuckin' follow procedure. Ya should've waited." Terry looked up to see Henry blink concern then leave the room. "Why the fuck would ya do this without backup?"

"I wasn't waiting when I could finish this thing quick and alone. Besides, you got Henry to think about."

Terry walked to the window with a groan. "And you got Alex and a fuckin' baby on the way. How bad?"

"Shoulder. Out of commission for at least six weeks," Dino grunted. "On the bright side, I'll be home when the baby comes. Terry, you need to seriously consider activating the General."

"Yeah, yeah. Look, we have what, one live negotiation in Columbia and two new kidnappings. I'll take Amsterdam and send Ogden to handle Morocco. I'll have a team and the General on standby for possible activity. It'll be fine."

"Ogden? You really think he's ready to spearhead a negotiation? Fuck, I can handle it, Terry."

"No, you go to that island and you fuckin' heal. And Dino?"

"What?"

"Pray all three situations don't go loud at once or we're all fucked."

When he hung up the phone, he turned to see Henry, standing at the opened door, his face pale.

"Ah, Dino was wounded, but nothin' bad, mate. He'll be fine."

"It could've been you."

"Henry, it wasn't me. It was Dino and it was him because he didn't wait for backup. Fuck, Henry. My job is the kinda job ya need to do right. This is what happens when someone wants to be a hero."

"Are you saying Dino wanted to be a hero?"

"Yeah, I am," Terry spat then watched his son turn away. He rubbed his eyes. Dino did want to be a hero; he wanted to be Henry's hero by keeping Terry out of harm's way. This is what came of misplaced valor and it had to end. Soon, the roles would be reversed and Terry might be taking a few serious risks on Alexandra's behalf. He groaned a sigh and went to find Henry.

On occasions like that, the young man reverted into the boy he used to be. Every time he and Terry had a disagreement, Henry could be found lounging on his bed with headphones blasting. The good part was, at seventeen, the headphones were voluntarily removed the moment Terry showed up at the door.

He leaned against the jamb and reviewed all the things he thought he wanted to say, then simply shook his head and cleared his throat. "Henry, I have a thought. I'm thinking it's time to change the way Dino and I have been doing this business. We've be far too reactive. It's time for action."

"The collaborative idea?" Henry asked, recalling the strange proposal made to Terry at a conference a few years earlier.

"Yeah, mate. The collaborative idea. But first I have a trip to Morocco needs doing."

***

Frank sat on a downed log watching Elite Guardian and combat trainee Seraphima sleep. She was curled to the side, her face hidden from view. She'd come a long way and it had been a grueling assignment. But she was ready. He snapped the twig he'd been fingering and her eyes shot opened, her hand gripped her weapon and she slowly, cautiously turned. Oh yes, she was ready. A crooked grin pulled at his lips.

"Sorry."

She sat, ran a hand through her hair. "Is it my watch, sir?"

"Nope. You got three more hours of shut eye."

She was sound asleep in a heartbeat. Oh yes, Sera was ready. She'd become physically strong and sharp. Her wound, a clean in and out shot, was healing and he'd watched her clean and re-wrap it before they settled for the night. She was limping, but keeping up. This one was strong and Frank would have loved to see her function on earth, in real situations where real lives were at stake. He would comfortably put his life in her hands.

But it was time for the final test. He had a plan but had been rethinking it most of the week. It was a solid strategy, but he wondered if that particular test was necessary. Sera had repeatedly proven that she did in fact believe that should she die in the simulation, she would fail. She fought for her life as hard as any soldier he'd ever seen. No, she didn't need another test to prove her now well developed instinct for self-survival. She needed a test to see how far she'd risk that survival for another human being.

Frank rolled his neck. This part sucked, big time. Of course he knew that he couldn't die again, but he was in the same simulation chamber Sera was in. Feeling and suffering the same difficulties. They were dehydrated, achy, getting through with less than four hours sleep per night and at it for over a month.

He hadn't cleared his change of plans with the Master Guardian, nor did he intend to. He'd made himself clear. One more interference and it was over, he'd walk out and the trainee would be left high and dry. Everything he requested came to be. Every storm, every obstacle. Even the small hut he asked for was over the ridge. Sera hadn't seen it yet and he had no intention of telling her it was there. His plan had drastically changed and his focus was on something else all together.

That focus? What the hell was he thinking, putting himself into the same fucking situation that had killed him the first time? And, facing everything again, could he endure it? Whether he'd be rescued this time . . . well, that remained to be seen. But if she could do it, he was confident that she would.

"Bring them in, Paul," Frank thought as he silently stood and walked away from his sleeping trainee.

What Frank had requested were his own memories of his two final days on earth. He inched his way through the darkness doing an independent recon he should have never attempted. With each step Frank became acutely aware that he was moving deeper and deeper into a horrifying reality, completely unable to change what was to come. His only hope was that Sera was trained well enough to track him, locate him and save his sorry ass. As he crouched near the hut, fear trembled through his heart like a charge of electricity. Memories were one thing, traumatic enough on their own, but knowing that he was about to relive them coursed terror trough his veins.

Silently reaching the hut, he rose slowly, praying that he would not see what was there the last time. But through the gaping wall, lying in the corner was his cargo, Armando Vericci, dead in a puddle of blood. His hand ran down his face and before it reached his chin, there it was; the sound of a cocked rifle and the pressure of the barrel jammed against the back of his sweaty neck. Nothing could be changed and everything was playing out as it had. He raised his hands in surrender.

Four men dragged him into the hut. They beat him until he lost consciousness. Revived him with a bucket of putrid water and beat him again. Frank remained strong, but only as long as his body would hold out. They sodomized him repeatedly, choking him with the chain of his dog tags, and still he struggled to hold on. Blood and semen flowed from him and still they pounded. Then, like before, they suddenly left him alone.

This Frank recalled clearly. They left him alone. The hut door may not have even been barred, he'd never know as he could not move. Internal injuries tormented him and his heart stuttered. He'd been brutalized for hours and hours. Received no food, no water. In that hut alone, Frank watched the sun set and he watched the sun rise. It was done. He would see no more than another few hours before it was all over.

The side of his gashed, bloody face lay pressed against the filthy ground and his body trembled. Frank prayed. He prayed that Sera was ready for the challenge, that she had covered her tracks and all traces of her presence so close to the hut. He prayed that she would not be forced to endure even the simulation of such a horrible death. And he prayed that she would find a way to save him from experiencing his own yet again.