It was the strangest sensation he had ever known… He felt disconnected… weightless… almost as if he were floating… It was disconcerting, yet comforting at the same time… He could hear shouting; the voices muffled and distant, yet he sensed they were nearby… But where?… He struggled to open his eyes, but he could see nothing beyond the murky darkness that surrounded him… slowly swallowing him… making him one with it… He should be anxious… He should be fighting to see… to hear… to extricate himself from this place, wherever it was… Yet he felt strangely calm… As if somewhere deep within himself he knew that he was safe… that everything would be right now… Here there was no more pain or struggle or fear… Here there was only peace…

Father Santiago sighed as he wearily descended the stairs leading from the sacristy down to his small room in the basement of the centuries old church. It had been a long day, made longer still by the heaviness he carried in his heart from Miguel Torres's confession of the night before. He'd tried to find peace again in his soul - to remove the knowledge of that darkness from his mind and heart - but prayer alone had done little to ease this burden.

He usually had no problem "forgetting" the sins recounted in the confessional, generally removing them from his conscious memory as soon as he'd given the sinner his penance to do for those sins. But Miguel Torres's confession had been unlike any that he had heard in his decades of service to the Church, and certainly a far cry from the usual transgressions of his parishioners. Whereas the sins confessed by his parishioners ranged from little white lies to petty theft to impure thoughts, and occasionally even infidelity, Dr. Miguel Torres's confession had been about kidnapping and murder. Lying, stealing, and even infidelity were sins that could be absolved, but kidnapping was in another category altogether. And murder… well, murder was a mortal sin.

Shocked as he'd been by his friend's confession, he had still tried to guide Miguel toward the right path - the only path that would lead to forgiveness for his sins. He prayed that God was now guiding Miguel and that Miguel would feel God's strength and be able to follow that path that led to redemption for him and his brother.

He'd been praying continuously since he'd heard Miguel's confession late last night. He'd prayed for Miguel, as well as for the souls of all who would be touched by Miguel's actions this night. And he'd selfishly prayed for himself, too - that God would fill his heart with love and hope once again and replace the fear that now dwelt there and had since he'd heard Miguel's confession.

He opened the door to his small room, turning on the light on the bedside table as he sat down wearily on the edge of his rickety bed. The small reading lamp lent a warm glow to the tiny room, but for the first time in the decades that he'd resided here the room no longer felt warm and welcoming to Father Santiago. He looked up at the worn, wooden crucifix that hung above his bed, then closed his eyes and whispered yet another prayer asking for God's guidance so that he might once again feel peace in his heart. Within an instant he knew what he had to do in order to find the peace he'd been so urgently seeking: he needed to find Miguel and help him do what was right.

It was late - nearly 10 p.m. - but this could not wait. He rose and quickly walked to the old wardrobe that held his church vestments and what few other clothes and personal items he had and opened it, pulling out a well-worn sweater to protect him against the chill night air on the long drive to Miguel's brother's ranch. He tried to think about what more he would need for the night. He'd likely need his medical bag, which was on the floor by the door, and of course he'd need the keys to the old truck that was parked just behind the church in the makeshift lean-to. He just prayed that the old truck would hold together and get him there in time.

He moved to close the wardrobe doors when his eyes settled onto the small leather box that held the blessed sacraments for last rites. He sighed as he reverently pulled it out of its resting place and tucked it under his arm, then grabbed his medical bag and headed out the door and back up the steps, all the while praying that he wouldn't need to give last rites to anyone this night…

"Dammit!" FBI Special Agent David Weygandt swore loudly, as he slammed his phone down, then knocked it completely off his desk, sending a potted plant and several file folders crashing to the floor with it. Within seconds there was a knock at his office door, followed by a very faint "Mr. Weygandt, is everything okay?" from Gracie, one of the late-night cleaning crew that was working just outside his office. Truthfully, nothing was okay, but he didn't see the need to involve anyone else in this, so he just laughed and sent her away. "Everything's fine, Gracie. Just knocked something over, that's all. I can clean this one up myself."

As she walked away, he heard her mutter something about needing to refurnish his office completely with unbreakables, which made him laugh for the first time in days. He supposed she was right: he had broken more than a few things in the past few days, but his mounting frustration since heading up the Bureau investigation of the Brenda Barrett kidnapping was coming dangerously close to overload, and breaking a vase or two… or three … was far better than opening fire on the bonehead bureaucrats who were now hampering his every move! He couldn't remember another case in all of his years with the Bureau that he'd had so many doors slammed in his face as he'd had with this one.

The latest (and most highly placed) door to be slammed in his face - or more accurately, phone to be slammed down on his ear - was that of Ted Simon, whom Weygandt knew headed up the New York office of the ultra-top secret Agency that JD Jacks worked for. He'd had to call in countless favors and make even more promises of future favors as he'd painstakingly tracked this Simon down, and even then he was only given a name and a number, which he knew wasn't Simon's or the Agency's at all, but a contact number instead. He'd had to go through no less than six different connections to finally talk to the man, and then their conversation had lasted less than three minutes. Dammit! It had taken longer than that just to get connected to the elusive Mr. Simon!

Ted Simon had at first insisted that he was merely a low-level employee of the Department of the Interior, whose job it was to analyze statistics, and when Weygandt had asked him why it had taken him an eternity to get connected to this number, Simon had coyly suggested that Weygandt had simply gotten a wrong number and that he should hang up and try again. But Weygandt had known in his gut that he had gotten the right number and the right man, and he'd quickly asked why Simon was working at this hour of the night if he was in stats at Interior, as he claimed. Everyone knew that recent budget cuts had made such low-level jobs strictly 9-5, with no overtime allowed; certainly there was no emergency that would necessitate a late night session compiling and analyzing statistics, Weygandt had quickly pointed out.

Simon had said nothing in reply to that; instead, he'd curtly asked Weygandt what the FBI wanted with "this guy" they were looking for. When Weygandt told him about Brenda Barrett's kidnapping and now the disappearance of both Jasper and JD Jacks, the latter being one of Simon's own operatives, and how all roads seemed to dead-end at a top-secret (even to highly-placed government officials) international organization known simply as the Agency, he thought he'd heard Simon gasp on the other end of the line.

But in the next moment Simon had recovered sufficiently to tell him that he'd never heard of any of the people that Weygandt had mentioned nor of any covert agency that operated below even the U.S. government's powerful radar. Then he'd told Weygandt that if there were such a secret organization as Weygandt had described, it would certainly not want the FBI, whose job it was to deal strictly with crimes within the United States itself, meddling in its international operations.

Simon had ended the call by condescendingly advising Weygandt to lay off the "X-Files" reruns, then addressed him as "Agent Mulder" before precipitously hanging up on him. And that's when Weygandt had slammed his phone down, resulting in the scattered mess of broken glass, dirt, and papers that now lay all over his new blue carpet.

But Weygandt knew that the mess on his carpet was the least of his worries. He was no closer to locating Brenda Barrett or the Jacks brothers than he'd been before he'd talked with this Ted Simon. On top of that, he knew that he'd rattled this Simon's cage when he'd told him what he knew about the Agency, so he had no doubt that he'd soon be pressured from higher ups to drop this case completely - and possibly even be reprimanded and reassigned. This case had quickly turned into what his fellow agents called a "career buster," and since his conversation with Simon, he knew that his job was probably on the line here.

But he also figured that the damage for him had already been done. Whether he backed off or not at this point was a moot point career-wise for him, but it could make a difference case-wise. And since he'd always been more about working the case than working the system and building a career here at the Bureau, he was going to stay on this case, pressuring whatever agency or government bigwig he needed to in order to find Ms. Barrett and the Jacks brothers and close this case. He owed that to the families involved and he owed it to his friend, Mike Moriarity, who seemed to consider the Jacks brothers his family, too. He'd simply deal with the fallout later.

He closed his eyes, thinking about how convoluted this case was, with its hidden secrets and double-crosses and its long, bloody trail of bodies. He just hoped that the fallout from his higher-ups didn't come too soon to prevent him from finding the Barrett woman and the Jacks brothers before any or all of their bodies were added to that already too long and too bloody trail.

Jerry stared in stunned disbelief at the horror playing out in front of him. He felt as if he were trapped in a nightmare and trying desperately to wake up. But this was no twisted fantasy of his unconscious mind given brief life in his sleeping world, nor was there any hope of this nightmare simply fading away with the morning light and slowly creeping back into the dark recesses of his mind; this nightmare was real and inescapable and unending.

But his broken heart continued to doubt. No, this is not happening! it told him; it cannot be happening! … Yet, his head couldn't deny what he'd just witnessed: Brenda had shot Jax at point-blank range, and Jax now lay bleeding on the floor, motionless and dying, if not already dead.

"Help him!" Jerry shouted, straining so hard against the restraints that held him to the heavy metal chair that he nearly fell forward.

As if on cue, Miguel was at Jax's side, and Jerry watched as the doctor slowly turned Jax over. The clean elastic bandage that Miguel had earlier wrapped around Jax's midsection to secure Jax's badly bruised ribs was now bright red and saturated. Jax remained unnaturally still, and Jerry couldn't see any chest movement to indicate that his brother was still breathing. But he guessed from the self-satisfied look on the doctor's face as he checked Jax for a pulse that Jax was indeed gone.

"You bastards!" Jerry screamed, but he knew that the doctor couldn't hear him and Sanchez appeared oblivious to his tirade or even his presence at this point, remaining as he had since this nightmare had begun: motionless; his hands pressed against the glass and staring into the next room; his attention focused solely on Brenda.

"Maria," Juan Carlos whispered hoarsely, as he gazed hungrily at Brenda. "My beautiful, beautiful Maria…"

Jerry's own gaze then went to Brenda, who was quietly seated on the silk settee and calmly staring off into space, as if she hadn't a care in the world… As if she had no idea that her once pristine white gown was now splattered with the blood from Jax's body that lay lifeless at her feet… and that she was the one who had shot him…

Miguel was at Brenda's side now. He took the gun from her hand, then leaned down and whispered into her ear. Jerry watched uneasily as she appeared to almost smile, then she nodded and took the doctor's hand as she stood and walked with him toward the door at the end of the wall of windows that separated the two rooms.

Sanchez appeared to come alive again as soon as Miguel and Brenda entered the room, and the way he continued to smile leeringly at Brenda made Jerry uneasy. But what frightened Jerry more was the fact that Brenda was returning that same look to Sanchez.

"What have you done to her?!" Jerry screamed, hoping his voice would bring Brenda out of this state she was in.

"I have simply helped my brother reclaim the love that you stole from him," Miguel replied, as his brother Juan reached out and took Brenda's hand from his.

Sanchez was unaware that Jerry had even spoken, as he was focused only on the woman in front of him. He had missed her so much. "Querida," he purred, as he pulled her into his arms.

Jerry watched in horror as Brenda not only met Sanchez's caress willingly, but reached up and gently pulled his face down to hers, kissing him passionately. "I'm yours now… only yours… forever…" she whispered huskily to him.

"Brenda! Brenda - look at me!" Jerry pleaded, as she once again kissed Sanchez. But Brenda appeared not to even hear him, so lost was she in that kiss.

"I'm afraid that's useless, Mr. Jacks," Miguel said, as he moved next to Jerry and turned to watch his brother and Brenda. "For all intents and purposes, Brenda Barrett is as dead as your brother… Maria Montoya now lives in her place," he said, gesturing toward Brenda, who continued to willingly allow Sanchez to caress and kiss her.

"Through some lucky twists of fate - and, of course, the wonders of chemistry - I was able to give back to my brother what you so cruelly took from him all those years ago: the woman he loved with all his heart," Miguel replied, his voice quiet, his demeanor thoughtful as he observed the happiness on his brother's face at this moment.

Miguel hadn't seen Juan this happy since he'd visited him and Maria briefly at Juan's compound in Mexico, just shortly before the fire. Certainly happiness had eluded his brother for the past four years. Juan had loved Maria so much that he'd lost himself to her; nearly losing his mind when he'd thought she'd betrayed him with Jacks, then losing his soul when she'd died. Only now did he seem to be fully alive once again, as he held the woman he believed to be his resurrected Maria in his arms.

"But she isn't Maria!" Jerry shouted, straining to break free from the bonds that held him firmly to the chair. "You can't just take one person and transform them into someone else!" Jerry knew there were powerful mind control drugs out there - and he'd seen a few used over the years - but this was beyond anything he'd ever thought possible. For all intents and purposes, Brenda appeared to be Maria Montoya - even physically.

"Ah, but I have… And quite remarkably, too, I might add," Miguel replied smugly. Then he looked back at Jerry as he thoughtfully added: "Besides, isn't that what you did when you took Maria into your bed that night? Didn't you attempt to transform my brother's Maria into your Brenda that night? … Isn't that how all of this began?" he countered coldly, watching as guilt instantly replaced anger on Jerry's face and realizing that his assumption had been right on point. He'd heard his brother's account of that night many times over, but Miguel had filled in the blanks himself as to what had actually happened between JD Jacks and Maria - as well as what had likely led up to it in the first place.

Unlike his brother, Miguel had no illusions about Maria's character or her faithfulness to Juan Carlos. Juan may have believed that Jacks had forced her into his bed that night, but Miguel knew that it was more likely Maria who had invited herself into Jacks's bed; taking advantage of the man's drunkenness and allowing him to believe that she was his lover, Brenda Barrett, from whom he'd been forcibly separated for all those weeks. This was only an assumption on his part, but an assumption based on what he'd recently read in Jackson's files about Jacks's relationship with Brenda Barrett. It also meshed with what he knew for certain about the long-dead Maria Montoya; she liked her sex the way she liked her men: challenging and dangerous.

Juan Carlos Sanchez had definitely been both challenging and dangerous, which is why Maria had been drawn to him in the first place. And though he always remained a dangerous man, once she knew she owned his heart, he was no longer a challenge to her and the sex no longer felt dangerous enough for her. So she had looked elsewhere for men who did meet both criteria for her. Miguel knew this for a fact because he was one of those men whom she had tried to seduce.

Not that he was all that dangerous back then, which had been during his visit with Juan just a few months before the fire and Maria's death. Miguel had been a resident at the time, totally focused on his medical career, with little time for anything other than work. But what she'd perceived as dangerous about him was the fact that he was her lover's brother. He had rebuffed her advances, but that had only tantalized her even more and she'd redoubled her efforts to seduce him. He'd finally warned her that he would tell Juan everything if she didn't back off, and she had left him alone after that. Maria had evidently wanted only the sense of danger that their liaison would have provided, but she had no desire for Juan Carlos to actually find out about it. It was to have been their dirty, little secret. Miguel supposed that she realized that of the two of them, Juan would believe him over her because they were blood, and to Juan Carlos the blood bond was sacred.

Miguel imagined that Maria had been similarly drawn to JD Jacks. Juan Carlos had welcomed Jacks into his home like family, and she knew that a sexual encounter with him would be almost as dangerous as one with Miguel, especially since it would take place just down the hall from where Juan Carlos lay sleeping. But Jacks had realized at some point in the seduction that Maria was not Brenda Barrett and had thrown Maria out, which had probably both humiliated and incensed Maria. That's when she'd likely run straight to Juan Carlos, crying rape and expecting him to punish Jacks for what he'd "done" to her. And the rest, unfortunately, was history - and the reason they were all here now: Juan Carlos's twisted eye for an eye scenario.

As Miguel silently recounted the events leading up to this moment, Jerry was lost in his own thoughts of that night; once again remembering and feeling responsible for the events that played out that horrible night four years before that had led directly to this horrible night tonight. His recklessness had led to Maria's death then and Jax's death now, but he wasn't going to let it lead to Brenda's death tonight!

He couldn't change the past; what had happened was over and done with. But the future was another story; nothing was inevitable from this point on. He could still change the outcome that Sanchez and his brother had planned for him and Brenda, but he'd have to stop reacting and start acting.

He'd been trained to be rational and detached in life-and-death situations; he had to draw on that training now, otherwise there was no hope for either Brenda or himself. If he did nothing, torture and certain death awaited him - and he was prepared for that - but for Brenda… He glanced up to see Sanchez slowly caressing Brenda as she stood staring vacantly at him, a placid smile on her face… Well, he knew that a fate far worse than death awaited her, and he wasn't about to just sit here and let that madman do anything more to her than he already had. But he had to be smart about it - formulate a plan and seize an opportune moment to swing into action.

He just hoped that just such a moment presented itself - and soon…

Restless and troubled, Dee Hotchkiss paced the length of Brenda's living room, as she'd been doing for hours now. She'd been unable to shake that feeling of foreboding about Jax and JD that she'd gotten that morning, and that frightened her. And the fact that she still hadn't been able to sense anything at all about Brenda since she'd disappeared from the apartment across the street days ago frightened her even more.

To add to her anxiety, the phones had been ominously quiet for most of the evening, including her cell phone, which had previously been ringing nonstop between calls from her editor and calls from Jane Jacks. Truthfully, she was relieved not to have heard from her editor recently, as Dee had yet to even begin the outline of the new story she'd promised him, let alone finished the first two chapters, as he wanted; but she really did want to talk to Jane Jacks again. But Jane's cell phone had been turned off for hours now, and Dee didn't want to bother anyone by calling the Jacks home or their business in order to reach her.

She'd just "met' Jane Jacks last night and they'd only spoken by phone, yet she'd felt an immediate kinship with her that she'd only felt one other time before in her life and that was with Brenda. She'd come away from their initial phone conversation feeling as if they were old friends. Perhaps it was the life-and-death situation about which they were both so concerned that had made them bond so quickly, but Dee knew that she wanted to maintain this newfound friendship, no matter what.

No matter what…

She sighed as she realized that, for the first time since all of this started, she'd actually allowed herself to imagine that this situation would all turn out badly; that none of them - not Brenda, nor Jax, nor JD - would return from wherever they were, and that realization frightened her. She'd never given up hope before, and she couldn't give up hope now! She had to stay positive!

But it was hard to stay positive when there had been no word on any of them in far too long. And even harder still was the fact that she hadn't been able to sense anything about Brenda for days or anything new about Jax and JD for hours now. Considering that last fact, she supposed that it was it was just as well that she hadn't been able to get in touch with Jane Jacks this evening because Dee was certain that she'd never be able to keep her pessimism out of her voice. And the last thing that Jane Jacks needed right now was someone else's doubt and fear adding to her own heavy heart.

The loud clunk of the freight elevator as it stopped just outside the apartment door caught Dee's attention and quickly brought her out of her morose musings. She glanced over her shoulder at the grandfather clock and frowned: it was nearly 11 p.m. Who would be coming here at this hour? More importantly, who would be coming here at all?

Brenda's friends, neighbors, and clients believed she was taking a few days off, so they would have no reason to be here, and especially not at this late hour. And Dee's friends, family - even her publisher - knew she was in town and that she was staying with a friend, but she hadn't given this address out to anyone, just as JD had instructed her.

There was a hesitant rap at the door then. Warily, Dee walked to the door, closing her eyes as she put her hands against the closed door, trying to get a sense of the person on the other side. She felt kindness and a certain amount of fear and uncertainty emanating from this person, and she felt something else - a kinship. She immediately knew who this was!

She threw the door open to see a small, white-haired older woman, looking tired and somewhat apprehensive, standing before her, suitcase in tow. Dee smiled broadly, realizing she was exactly as she'd pictured her in her mind's eye when they'd talked. "Jane, welcome…" she smiled warmly, pulling the relieved woman into a warm embrace.

Sitting in his brightly lit office at Jacks International in LA, John Jacks sighed as he watched the frown on Mike Moriarity's face deepen the longer he talked with his friend at the FBI, David Weygandt. He knew simply from looking at his security chief that it couldn't be good news. He was suddenly glad that his wife was 3000 miles away in New York and not here now because he knew that she would fall apart, seeing Mike's face and knowing that hope was slowly dwindling away. Brenda Barrett had been missing for days now, and Jax and Jerry had flown off to Bocagrande, Argentina, in a foolhardy rescue attempt nearly 36 hours ago, only to disappear as well after landing there.

Within hours of their disappearance, John had dispatched a security team to Bocagrande to search for his missing sons. Airport officials they'd spoken with at the small airport remembered men matching both of their descriptions going through customs, but they had gone through separately. Jax had been detained because he'd been accused of using a "stolen" passport, and he'd been handed over to a Teresa Kinsman, who supposedly worked for Jason Fredericks, special envoy with the American consulate in Buenos Aires. But when they'd contacted Mr. Fredericks, he said that he'd never heard of Ms. Kinsman and that he had made the trip himself to Bocagrande to retrieve Jax as a favor to Jerry, only to find Jax already gone when he'd gotten there. He said he'd tried calling Jerry to let him know what had happened, but he hadn't been able to reach him.

A search by their team of the Casino del Caribe, the one lead they'd had to Jax and Jerry's possible whereabouts, had also been fruitless, as neither man had been there at all, and no men matching either of their descriptions had shown up in any police stations, hospitals or - thankfully - morgues in all of Argentina either. It was as if they'd simply fallen off the face of the earth!

John had been contacting all of the political heavyweights in Washington that he knew, trying to put pressure on anyone and everyone there to help ferret out this mysterious "Agency" that Jerry worked for because it seemed to be the last tangible lead to what had happened to his sons and the woman they both loved, but thus far he'd come up empty-handed. It seemed that even those high-ranking officials that he knew on various committees, subcommittees, and organizations in Washington were unaware of any such agency operating below their radar. But John's inquiries, as well as his insistence, had piqued their interests, and he had no doubt something would be unearthed soon about this organization. John just prayed that it would be soon enough to save his sons and the woman they both loved.

It was nearly midnight by the time that Father Santiago turned onto the side road that would take him the last few kilometers to Juan Carlos Sanchez's ranch, and he breathed a sigh of relief that his destination was almost within sight; silently thanking God for getting him here safely. He'd been praying nonstop since he'd left the church; first, that this old truck would hold together for the trip; but mostly that he would arrive in time. God had certainly heard his first prayer. He trusted that he'd also heard his second - more fervent - prayer, as well, and that he would get to Miguel in time.

He rounded a bend in the road doing 65 kilometers/hour, which was as fast as the old truck could go, when he saw something blocking the road just a hundred or so meters in front of him. He slammed on the brakes, sliding off the side of the road and coming to a stop less than a meter from the obstacle. Slightly shaken, he opened the truck door and stepped out, leaving the motor running and the lights focused on the obstacle, which he could now see was a large tree that appeared to have been recently cut and purposely placed there.

He wondered if Señor Sanchez ordered this placed here to slow down anyone trying to make it onto his property tonight? No matter - it might slow him down, but it certainly wouldn't stop him. He'd simply walk the last few kilometers, he decided, as he headed back to his truck to shut off the lights and the engine and to retrieve his medical bag and his box containing the sacraments for last rites. But just as he'd gathered his things and was turning around to shut the door behind him, someone hit him from behind and he fell unconscious to the ground.

Jerry sat quietly, trying as inconspicuously as possible to work his hands free of the ropes that bound him. Both Miguel and Sanchez seemed to have forgotten about him - at least momentarily - as each appeared lost in his own world; Miguel, staring intently at his brother, a look of both love and sorrow there; and Sanchez, staring endlessly at Brenda, a look of love and awe on his face, as he believed that he was seeing his Maria miraculously brought back to life.

Jerry had been staring at Brenda, as well, still struck by her uncanny likeness to the long-dead Maria Montoya. She certainly looked and acted like Maria, but, unlike the demented Sanchez, he had no illusions about her real identity. Jerry just wondered if Brenda still remembered who she was at this point? The doctor had told him that she was lost forever, but Jerry wouldn't believe that. He may have already lost Jax, but he wasn't losing Brenda, too. As long as both of them were alive, then there was hope, no matter what kind of drugs the doctor and Sanchez had pumped into her.

He'd been trying to look into her eyes to see if there was any bit of recognition of him at all, but since coming into this room she had kept her focus solely on Sanchez and the doctor; almost as if she were oblivious to Jerry's presence there…

Or as if she's purposely avoiding you…

That last thought had come out of nowhere, and his heart skipped a beat as that thought gave him hope for the first time since this whole surreal experience had begun. Suddenly he could hear Dee's voice echoing in his head once again: … Remember to follow what your heart tells you, not what your eyes do…

… Follow what your heart tells you, not what your eyes do…

Once again Jerry's heart skipped a beat, as the meaning of Dee's words slowly sank into his heart. He looked up to see Sanchez still touching a smiling, submissive Brenda, then turned to look through the glass partition at his brother's bloody, motionless body on the floor of the other room. He'd watched helplessly as Brenda shot Jax at point-blank range and Jax instantly crumpled to the floor, a sea of his own blood oozing out beneath him. He'd then watched as Brenda had willingly gone into Sanchez's arms and kissed him. His head had readily accepted everything that he'd witnessed; yet his heart continued to steadfastly deny it all.

… Follow what your heart tells you, not what your eyes do…

Had Dee sensed what would happen to them when she'd said those words to him? And did that mean that none of this was as real as it appeared? That's what Dee's words seemed to imply. His mind took a sudden leap then, as he considered the possibility that Jax wasn't really dead, despite what he'd seen. His heart jumped at that faint glimmer of hope, but his head still clung to the "truth" that lay before him: Jax's body lay just as the doctor had left it, lifeless and still. There was no movement whatsoever; not even the shallowest breathing was apparent.

Yet Dee's words kept repeating in his head, like a mantra: Follow what your heart tells you, not what your eyes do… And in that instant he knew that's what he had to do: follow his heart and believe that there was still hope for all of them, Jax included.

That's when the last of Dee's words came flooding back to him: Trust me - but more importantly, trust in your love for Brenda and for your brother and for yourself… That's what will carry you through this…

He almost smiled as he remembered his initial encounter with Dee Hotchkiss. Trusting her and her sixth sense had come hard for him, but he'd eventually learned that both she and her "gift" were genuine and could be trusted. Trust in your love… that's what will carry you through, she'd advised him about this trip. She'd proven herself right time and again over the past few days; he had to trust that she was right this time, too…

His weapon drawn, Roberto moved quietly down the hallway toward the office of the security wing; the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. There was something wrong here. Fernando and Esteban, Sanchez's other two personal bodyguards who'd been posted just outside the room where Sanchez was, had suddenly disappeared while Roberto had been with the doctor. And now he couldn't raise them or any of the regular security personnel on their radios. Every member of Sanchez's security team was on duty tonight and there had been no order to maintain radio silence, nor were any of them to leave their posts, yet no one was answering. Something had happened - but what?

He approached the security office warily; crouching low as he quickly opened the door and peered inside; his gun squarely in front of him. The office was empty, which was not a good sign. Sanchez was paranoid about security, so he always had at least two security guards posted here in this office 24/7 to monitor the security cameras that covered every square meter of this place, inside and out, as well as those cameras hidden in the jungle and aimed at the razor-sharp electric fence that surrounded the perimeter of the 100-acre compound. No one and nothing could get past those undetected. Yet, someone or something had managed to make an entire security force disappear.

Roberto looked immediately at the monitor of the room where Sanchez was to make sure that he was safe, watching as the doctor and the prisoner appeared to be arguing, while Sanchez seemed preoccupied with the woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to the portraits of Sanchez's dead mistress. He quickly scanned the other screens that showed all areas of the compound, both inside and out, but nothing appeared out of the ordinary on any of them - yet nothing seemed quite right either. Everything was too quiet.

He looked down at the console to find the controls to bring up the feed for the perimeter cameras for the past 30 minutes, as well as the feeds for the security wing for the past 15 minutes. He pushed the rewind button for the perimeter cameras first, but nothing happened. He pushed it again and again; still nothing. Same for the ones for the cameras in the security wing. That's when the onscreen happenings in the room where Sanchez remained caught his eye - or, more accurately, what wasn't happening onscreen: there was nothing different going on there. Everyone seemed to be doing the same things over and over again.

Roberto instantly realized that the feeds to all the security cameras had been looped to repeat previously recorded tapes so it would appear that everything was okay in the compound, which meant that someone had gotten into the compound to tamper with the security cameras - or someone on the inside had done this. Either way, it meant that they were all in immediate danger. He needed to get back to protect Señor Sanchez!

But before he could turn around to head back to warn Sanchez, he was knocked unconscious and dragged away.

"I know I'm intruding, just dropping in like this," Jane Jacks apologized, as Dee ushered her inside Brenda's apartment. "I should have called before I left LA - especially since we've never even met in person before - but it was rather spur of the moment and all…"

"Nonsense - you're not intrudin' at all! I'm glad you're here," Dee replied, setting Jane's suitcase aside as she closed and locked the door behind them. "I was just thinkin' about you, in fact."

"You were? … Have you heard anything or… or felt anything since we talked?" Jane asked anxiously, but she could see from the look on Dee's face that there was still no news - actual or otherwise - about her sons or Brenda. "Oh," she said quietly, disappointment clouding her face.

"I wish I had somethin' to tell you, but… I haven't been able to sense anythin' new…" Dee reluctantly admitted, hating the pain that she saw in Jane's eyes at hearing that. "But that's not necessarily bad," she quickly added. "I think I'm just too wired to focus properly. I've been livin' on coffee and takeout for days now and catchin' catnaps here and there, instead of eatin' properly and gettin' a full night's sleep. It's no wonder I can't focus," she added with a small laugh, hoping that Jane would buy that explanation.

She did. "That's understandable," Jane nodded. "I know that I haven't been able to sleep or concentrate on anything since I found out about all of this either… And you've been in the mix for days longer than I have…" she sighed wearily.

Dee saw the fatigue in Jane's face and realized they were still standing just inside Brenda's front door. "Where are my manners?" Dee exclaimed, embarrassed by her lack of hospitality. "You must be exhausted after that long flight. Please come in and sit down, and I'll make us some chamomile tea and we can both unwind," she said, as she led Jane into the living room, then hurried to the kitchen to put the teakettle on the stove.

"Thank you… I am a bit tired," Jane conceded, settling into the oversized chair next to the couch. "I tried resting on the plane, but I flew commercial and the man beside me talked nonstop the entire flight… Although I must admit that he did manage to take my mind off my sons for most of the flight," she added with a small chuckle.

"Well, my mama always used to say that there are blessin's in every experience if we just look," Dee smiled, as she opened the cupboard and pulled out the teapot, as well as two teacups and saucers, all of which she set on a small teak tray she'd found on the counter. She held up the creamer and sugar bowl, to which Jane shook her head "no," so she set them aside.

"Your mama was a wise woman," Jane said softly, as she watched Dee across the peninsula that divided the kitchen/dining area from the living room.

"Well, it's been my experience that most mamas are pretty wise when you get right down to it," Dee replied, pulling the whistling kettle off the stove and pouring the boiling water over the tea in the teapot. She set the kettle back on the stove, then carefully lifted the tray and headed into the living room, setting the tray down on the coffee table, then settling onto the end of the couch closest to the chair on which Jane was sitting.

"Even a mama who's crazy enough to fly cross-country on the spur of the moment and drop in unexpectedly on a woman he's never even met in person in the hope that that woman could somehow offer her some support?" Jane asked, leaning forward to help Dee pour the tea; a wan smile playing on her lips, even as bright tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

"Hey, that's not crazy," Dee smiled, reaching over and taking Jane's hand in hers. "In my opinion that's smart. We humans are a social bunch; we gain strength from sharin' ourselves with one another - our hopes and our dreams, as well as our fears and our failures. It's when we try to tough things out on our own that we falter and lose our way."

"That's true," Jane agreed, giving Dee's hand a gentle squeeze. "And I'm glad that you're letting me share this time with you… Lord knows I was slowly falling apart back home on my own," she confided, letting go of Dee's hand as she took her cup of hot tea and leaned back in her chair. "Oh, of course I had John to talk to, but he's only been home briefly in the days since that crisis at JI, which we now know is tied into this whole mess, too. But he's mainly been holed up in his office with the firm's security chief, Mike Moriarity. Mike was once with the FBI and still has close contacts there. And John's called all his Washington contacts in the hope that one of them knows something about this mysterious organization that Jerry works for in the hope that if enough political pressure is applied they'll help find the boys and Ms. Barrett."

"Brenda," Dee corrected, as she carefully took a sip of the hot tea. "She has a very special relationship with both of your sons, and I know she - and your sons - would want you to call her Brenda."

Jane lowered her cup and smiled, "Brenda it is…" She sighed then as she admitted: "You know I've never even seen a picture of Brenda…"

"Oh, there's a small one on the shelf back here," Dee exclaimed, jumping up and retrieving a small snapshot-size framed photo of Brenda and Lois Ashton that Ned had snapped at Luigi's, as they'd celebrated Lois's last birthday. "Brenda's the one on the left," Dee pointed out, as she handed the photo to Jane. "No idea who the other woman is, but she and Brenda look like they're real close."

"She's absolutely beautiful!" Jane exclaimed, smiling as she studied the picture; easily seeing why her sons were both so instantly attracted to her. "John met her when she flew to LA to see Jax, and he said she was a lovely girl - exactly the kind of girl we'd always hoped our boys would find and fall in love with… Little did we know at that time that both boys had found her and fallen in love her…" she added, with a sigh.

"John said that Jax planned to ask her to marry him - this from a boy who hadn't had a steady girlfriend in his entire life!" she continued, giving a small laugh at that irony. "And Jerry… Well, he made Jax look like Mr. Commitment, with all the different women he had in his life, and yet he wanted to marry her, too, and…" She paused briefly, as she thought of the other thing that Jerry had confided to John. "…And if things had been different for Brenda and Jerry four years ago, we'd have known the joy of loving our first grandbaby…" Her voice trailed off and tears returned to her eyes as she thought of that lost child.

Dee set her cup down and reached over and squeezed Jane's hand again. "I'm so sorry for your loss… Brenda told me how much she wanted that baby and how she nearly fell apart when she lost it," she offered quietly. "But Brenda survived and was finally able to move past that - she even learned to love again, with Jax… She finally realized, with Jax's help, that life goes on, and we either grow and learn from our tragedies and mistakes or we stagnate and die." She paused, as she tried to find the right words to say what she felt. "And in the end I believe that our lives unfold as they're meant to…"

There was a long moment of silence then, as Jane tried to digest what Dee had suggested. "Are you saying that you believe that the horrible thing that happened to Jerry and Brenda and their baby four years ago, as well as whatever horror is happening with Jerry and Brenda and Jax right now, was part of some divine plan all along?" Jane asked, not sure she could believe in a God who planned such atrocities into people's lives.

"No, I didn't mean that," Dee was quick to answer. "I do believe that God has a plan for our lives, but I also believe that He gives us free will as to what choices we actually make. And He gives everyone else free will, too, and their choices affect our lives as well… Sometimes God's original plan for us gets distorted by our poor choices, as well as the poor choices of those people whose lives intersect ours - which is what happened for JD and Brenda all those years ago and now, too. But I truly believe that in the end, God makes corrections that eventually bring us back to His plan for our lives - That is, if we listen to our hearts and patiently trust in Him."

Jane sat silent for a moment, mulling over Dee's philosophy of life. "It's that listening and patiently trusting that's so hard," she sighed, picking her tea back up and taking another sip. "Especially now, when there's been no word for so long on Brenda or the boys…"

"I know… My faith has faltered somethin' fierce in the last few hours, too," Dee admitted sheepishly. "But havin' you here now to talk with has bolstered it again… It's like I was just sayin': we need to share our feelin's in order to stay strong and not lose hope…" Her voice trailed off, closing her eyes as she was suddenly hit with an overwhelming feeling of anxiety.

Jane was instantly alarmed as she watched Dee's face abruptly go pale. "Are you all right?" she asked anxiously, setting down her teacup and grabbing Dee's hand. Then it dawned on her that Dee was sensing something. "You feel something, don't you?" she asked, her heart in her throat, as she instantly knew it had to be bad.

Dee slowly opened her eyes, as she tried to catch her breath and calm her rapidly beating heart. She had never felt anything more powerful - or more final - before in her entire life, and she wasn't exactly sure what it meant. She knew what her head told her it meant: all three were dead, or soon would be. But her heart still held out hope, and she wouldn't allow her fear to overwhelm her - not now; not with JD and Jax's mother staring anxiously at her and needing any scrap of hope in order to stay sane. And she needed that hope, too, for her own sanity.

Jane saw the hesitancy in Dee's face and her fear mounted. "Oh Lord, it's bad, isn't it?" she gasped, closing her eyes tightly against the tears that were instantly there.

Dee knew she needed to choose her words carefully, as she didn't want to add to Jane's burden, yet she wouldn't lie to her either. So she answered as simply and honestly as she could: "I'm not exactly sure if it's good or bad. I just feel that somethin' very big is happenin' now - and, one way or another, all of this will be over very soon…"

Their night-vision goggles in place, the six members of the elite Alpha team moved stealthily through the darkened hallway toward their target, which their intelligence placed at the end of the next wing. Despite the fact that Juan Carlos Sanchez had surrounded himself with a small army and fortified his compound like a fortress, thus far they'd encountered very little resistance. That was thanks, in part, to their counterparts on Bravo team, which had worked with them to secure the compound, including securing the perimeter and neutralizing the sophisticated security systems that protected this place. Bravo team was now in place to shut down both the main and the backup generators once Alpha team arrived at its objective.

But it was also due to the intelligence supplied by a handful of their colleagues who'd been deep undercover here for nearly a year now and had provided a detailed layout of the compound, as well as the security systems and the locations and numbers of Sanchez's security personnel.

Even now the identities of those undercover operatives were unknown to anyone, other than a select few at the Agency's highest level. That was to protect their cover, but that also meant that some of those they'd subdued tonight were their allies, not their enemies. But everyone involved knew the risks when they'd signed on with the Agency: protecting the integrity of the Agency and the success of its continued operation was more important than any individual agent's life, and tonight was no different. But, again thanks to their colleague's excellent groundwork, which included neutralizing most of Sanchez's security force, no lives had been lost tonight thus far.

And, while most on both Alpha and Bravo teams hoped for no casualties during this mission, there was one among them who knew that the success of this mission for him depended upon there being at least one fatality tonight.

Tall and muscular, Ted Simon cast a commanding shadow as he paced the floor of the ultra high tech command center in the sub-basement of the Agency's New York offices, nervously eyeing the clock on the wall. It had been a very long day, and it promised to be an even longer night. He'd spent most of the past two days trying to defuse potentially explosive situations for the Agency that, in one way or another, involved his rogue agent, JD Jacks; the latest of which was an inquiry from an overly ambitious FBI agent, who'd somehow managed to ferret out information about the Agency, including Simon's name and office number here. Now he was waiting to see if he'd successfully defused a situation that could prove to be the biggest bombshell of his career - or if it was going to blow up in his face.

He tore his eyes away from the clock to look at the readouts on the screens in front of him. The dozens of computer screens on the consoles that lined the walls of the immense room were all aglow, highlighting Agency activities around the world, but only the array of screens directly in front of him concerned him for the moment. They were the ones that showed the most crucial operation for him tonight.

Twelve hours earlier the Agency heads had met with him by teleconference and agreed with his recommendation to dispatch an elite team to Juan Carlos Sanchez's Costa Rican compound to capture Sanchez. That operation - or at least the GPS readouts of the agents sent in tonight - was playing out at this very moment on the screens in front of him. This operation - to bring down Sanchez and his vast organization - had been in the works for well over a year now, but this was not how or when it was to have ended. It had been slated to continue indefinitely. But things had changed since those first plans were drawn up, well over a year ago. And the decision to bring it all to a close tonight had been his call, and if this mission failed, his career would do likewise. Tonight was the night that would either make or break him here at the Agency.

It had been nearly two years since the Agency had first discovered that the presumed dead Juan Carlos Sanchez was not so dead after all. Despite having been missing for over two years at that time, it was soon very clear that Sanchez had not only survived his previous encounter with the Agency but had actually come back stronger and more lethal than before, with a new organization that had an even bigger piece of the ever widening world drug market pie. Letting Sanchez slip through the Agency's fingers alive in the first place had been an embarrassment, but the fact that Sanchez had managed to come back to establish an even stronger operation had been a real black mark against the Agency, especially his office, which had coordinated the original plan to bring Sanchez down four years before.

This time around it had taken the Agency several months to work out a strategy to seamlessly infiltrate several of its operatives into Sanchez's organization; this time putting their people into far less visible roles in the organization; avoiding the front-door, high-profile contact with him, as they'd done four years previously when they'd sent JD Jacks there in the guise of James Barrington, would-be partner in Sanchez's vast distribution network. This time their agents easily slipped beneath Sanchez's considerably honed radar into jobs that were necessary for Sanchez's operation and lifestyle, but brought little attention to themselves; they were ubiquitous, but invisible, which proved to be far less risky for everyone involved and far more lucrative as far as yielding useful intelligence on Sanchez's operation. Most of those operatives had been in place for over a year now, and Sanchez had never once suspected any of them of being anything more than he or she purported to be - simply a person on his payroll, whose full and total loyalty was to Juan Carlos Sanchez.

Even Sanchez's windfall inheritance of Rick Jackson's files, containing so-called information he'd "gleaned" (or, rather, what the Agency had allowed him to glean) about the Agency in his research into JD Jacks's background and career, had contained nothing about those undercover operatives within Sanchez's own organization. In fact, their covers could have held indefinitely, yielding ongoing information about Sanchez's operation and his allies and enemies, all of whom were also involved in one way or another in illegal and corrupt activities around the world. But all those months of hard work were nearly destroyed when Jacks had foolishly decided to go after Sanchez himself, despite Simon's warning to stay out of it and let the Agency handle things.

Of course, he supposed he could have avoided this entire situation if he'd simply detained Jacks the moment he'd walked into his office that day. Then, the Sanchez surveillance could have continued, yielding increasingly invaluable intelligence on Sanchez and his allies, Jacks and his brother would still be safe here in the States, and the Brenda Barrett problem would have been cleanly eliminated by Sanchez, with the Agency's hands appearing clean in the whole matter and no nosy politicians or bureaucrats any the wiser about the Agency's existence. But that's not how things had happened.

Even with the Jacks brothers and Ms. Barrett as Sanchez's hostages, Simon hadn't planned to lift a finger to rescue them. It was only after the rich, powerful, and very politically well-connected Jacks family had begun to rattle the cages of some highly placed Washington bureaucrats that Simon had realized that it would be far less costly for the Agency to abort the original Sanchez operation and bring in Sanchez and the hostages - if any survived - than to risk exposure with a full-court press by the Jacks family's powerful political allies.

Simon gingerly rubbed his bruised and swollen jaw, as he remembered his explosive encounter with JD Jacks two days before. In retrospect he realized that he should have been a little less blunt in his assessment of Brenda Barrett's chances of survival and a little more forthcoming with the Agency's plans to handle the situation. But he knew that Jacks would never have stood by and simply waited for the Agency to handle this, no matter what he'd said. In the past week Jacks's whole world had collapsed, and he'd come in spoiling for a fight. Everyone Jacks had trusted and everything he'd believed had been blown asunder, and it could all be traced directly back to his involvement with the Agency.

First, Jacks had found out that his friend, mentor, and handler here at the Agency, Andrew Buxton, had been manipulating his life for the past four years in order keep him tied to the Agency, including orchestrating a violent assault on Jacks's pregnant girlfriend, Brenda Barrett, that resulted in the death of their baby. On the heels of that, he'd learned that the Agency had been aware of Buxton's manipulations and had even encouraged it, although mainly after the fact. Then Jacks had learned that Ms. Barrett, whom he still loved as much as he had when he'd been forced to leave her years before, was in love with another man - who turned out to be his own brother.

Still reeling from that revelation, Jacks had then found out that Ms. Barrett had been kidnapped - not once, but twice. First, by Buxton, who planned to kill her and his co-conspirator in the kidnapping, Rick Jackson. Jackson had been Buxton's flunky for the past few years, handling all of Buxton's dirty work involving Ms. Barrett, and Buxton planned to kill Jackson before Jackson could expose to Jacks Buxton's role in systematically destroying Jacks's life over the past few years.

However, Jackson had his own greedy ideas about the kidnapping, and he poisoned Buxton before Buxton could kill him or Ms. Barrett, then contacted both Jacks and his brother for millions as ransom for Ms. Barrett's safe return. But Jackson never planned to let Ms. Barrett go; instead, pulling a doublecross on the Jacks brothers by selling her to Juan Carlos Sanchez for another cool million for use as leverage to lure Jacks to his death. That had resulted in Jackson's own death, however, as Sanchez had pulled his own doublecross on Jackson. Now Sanchez had Ms. Barrett, as well as Jacks and his brother, too.

The irony in all of this was that JD Jacks had spent the past four years of his life trying to protect the woman he loved from danger, only to have the most dangerous man Jacks had ever faced take her in the end. And if Jacks ever found out that Simon or anyone else here at the Agency had prior knowledge that Sanchez planned to grab Brenda Barrett, Simon knew that JD Jacks would destroy him and then do his best to dismantle the Agency rung by rung in the most public way possible - and Jacks had the skills, the money, and the political connections to do just that.

And, knowing JD Jacks as he did, he had no doubt that he'd begin digging for that information the minute he returned, and worse still, he knew that Jacks would find it no matter how deeply Simon tried to bury it. Simon may have been able to keep Jacks in the dark for the past four years as to the real manipulations of his life, but Jacks's blinders had been painfully removed over the past few days. His trust in the Agency had been destroyed, and an agent who could no longer trust the organization was more dangerous to the organization than any outside force.

Simon knew that the organization and its operations had to be protected at all costs. That was an inviolable rule. Andrew Buxton had understood that when he'd come to him four years ago with Jacks's initial plan to leave the Agency, and Buxton had kept that foremost in his mind as he'd spent the intervening years doing what had to be done to keep Jacks in line. Buxton had even had that in mind when he'd hatched this plan to kidnap and kill Brenda Barrett because he knew that her very existence was a threat to the Agency because of the draw that she had for JD.

Every agent who signed on with the Agency knew that the Agency came first and foremost, including JD Jacks. But Jacks had forgotten that cardinal rule, and, despite the many reminders these past few years, Jacks was still determined to put his own needs before the Agency's, and Simon knew that would never change. So, after much consideration, in which he weighed the Agency's needs against Jacks's desires, Ted Simon had decided to give JD Jacks tonight what he had so desperately sought for the past four years: his freedom from the Agency. Unfortunately, for Jacks that freedom would come at the cost of his life.

Juan Carlos had been momentarily oblivious to both his brother and Jerry, as he'd stood staring at his "Maria," lost in the wonder of seeing and feeling her in his arms again. He slowly slid his hands down her body, closing his eyes as he savored the silky smoothness of her skin and the supple, yet firm feel of her curves beneath his touch. Every night since she'd gone away he had dreamed of this moment … prayed for this moment… the moment she would return to him again… And now she was here, and she was even more beautiful than he remembered… Life was good again… He had everything that he wanted now…

But then he remembered…

He tore his eyes away from his Maria to look behind him at Jacks. In his excitement at seeing his Maria again he'd momentarily forgotten about his prisoner. JD Jacks had to be killed in order for him to truly find peace again after all these years…

So, the game was not yet over… He had eliminated Jacks' knight and captured Jacks' queen, but he had yet to secure the checkmate that would finally end this game and give him the victory that he'd sought for so long. There was just one more move to make, and his queen - his Maria - would be the one to make that final move. It was only fitting…

"Maria," he whispered to Brenda, "it's time."

"Yes, it's time," she nodded, smiling sweetly at him, knowing exactly what he meant because the doctor had told her all that was expected of her. She could do this…She had to do this…

(Soon it will be over, and then everything will be right again…)

She just had to trust…

Miguel saw his brother whisper to Brenda, so he stepped forward to hand her the gun that he'd taken from her earlier, but Juan Carlos motioned him away.

"No," Juan Carlos barked, as he walked over to Maria's portrait and reached behind it, pulling another, much larger gun out from its hiding place, not noticing the stricken look on Miguel's face.

"Can she handle that?" Miguel asked anxiously, eyeing the gun his brother was holding. Juan Carlos had told him only about the small derringer, which she'd used on the brother; he'd never mentioned that she'd be expected to use a different gun on Jacks.

"She can handle anything I ask of her," Juan Carlos answered confidently, smiling as he anticipated his game-winning move against Jacks. "You promised me that."

"Yes, but she's still very weak," Miguel replied, hoping to persuade his brother to stick with the original plan. "And she's already been through so much today, Juan. Let me take care of Jacks instead," he suggested, stepping forward to take the gun from his brother's hand.

"No!" Juan erupted, angrily pushing Miguel away. "This is our fight - Maria's and mine!"

"But Jacks will be just as dead whether she shoots him or I do. This way it will be easier on her - She's already shot one man tonight… She's been through enough," Miguel repeated, his voice calm and steady despite how anxious he felt inside. He silently berated himself for not anticipating this. He should have known that his brother would do something like this at the last minute.

Juan looked at his brother through narrowed eyes; his paranoia once again provoked by Miguel's suspicious actions. "Why do you care so much, Miguelito?" he asked, stepping protectively between his brother and Brenda.

Jerry watched quietly as Sanchez and his brother argued; their attentions focused solely on each other for the moment. He was glad they were distracted. He'd been working at maneuvering his hands out of the ropes that bound him, and he could feel the ropes loosening. Just another minute and he was sure he'd be free of them. Of course, freeing his legs would be a bit trickier, but not impossible. He just hoped that both Sanchez and his brother remained distracted for however long it took to completely free himself.

He glanced at both doors, wondering where exactly Sanchez's heavily armed guards were at the moment and how quickly they'd come in and begin firing once someone noticed that he was free? Most likely instantly, which meant he had to be smart about this. He was prepared to get shot trying to escape, but he wasn't about to let Brenda get shot, too. He'd simply have to watch and bide his time.

Juan Carlos and Miguel continued to argue animatedly. "Why do you care, Miguelito?" Juan Carlos pressed. "Do you have desires of your own towards my Maria?" he demanded, his intense jealousy instantly triggered. "She is mine, not yours!" he shouted, shoving his brother backwards.

"I have no desire for her at all," Miguel assured his brother. Juan's legendary temper and his insane jealousy were both in full force now, and Miguel knew that he had to do something fast to get his brother's emotions back in control or there would be real blood spilled here tonight. "Maria is yours," Miguel agreed, his voice even and soothing, as he quickly tried to calm his brother. "I am only concerned as her doctor; nothing more… Look at her Juan - she's pale and she's still very weak…" he pointed out, nodding toward Brenda, who was extremely pallid now. "And it's not like you're allowing Jacks to go free. He will be dealt with - and his brother is already gone…"

"Dealt with?!" Juan Carlos exploded, his eyes suddenly flashing again with four years of pain and anger. "Jacks is not merely a problem to be dealt with! He destroyed my life, and he must die!"

"And he will!" Miguel argued. "But it does not have to be at her hands!"

"But it does!" Juan Carlos shot back hotly, his dark eyes flashing. "I have waited for this for years! You, of all people, know what this man did to Maria and to me! We deserve this moment of payback! An eye for an eye!"

Brenda stood quietly behind Juan Carlos and Miguel as the brothers argued, watching… waiting… She was trying hard to stay focused… Trying hard not to think about the taste of Sanchez's lips that still lingered sickeningly in her mouth… or the disgusting feel of his hands on her flesh…

Or the look of shock in Jax's eyes as she'd pointed the gun at him and fired…

She'd almost lost control then… She'd held it together surprisingly well up to that point by simply not looking at him and focusing solely on the doctor's instructions to her. But once he'd come to and he'd spoke to her, she'd had to look at him… The blood… the bruises… God, what had they done to him? … She'd only made it through it all by telling herself that what she was doing wasn't real - none of it was real. The doctor had promised her that. And she had to trust the doctor… (You must trust me…) He was their only way out of this.

(You must listen carefully to me as I explain all of this to you, and then you must do exactly as I say…)

He'd explained everything to her after he'd taken her to see the painting, and it had all made some sort of perverse sense really… The woman in the painting - the one who looked so much like her - was Maria Montoya, the love of Juan Carlos's life and the woman that Juan Carlos claimed JD had raped and murdered four years ago. But the doctor said that JD was innocent. The woman was dead, but at Juan Carlos's own hands. But in his grief and guilt Juan Carlos's sick mind had created the scenario in which JD had been the one who'd killed her that night, and now those lies had replaced the horrific memory of the true events in his mind.

(You see the resemblance, don't you?… You have to use that to your advantage… My brother sees you as his Maria - resurrected and whole - and you must maintain that illusion, no matter what… You cannot let yourself be distracted, not even for an instant…Your life and the lives of the men you love depend on you staying focused and in control…)

And now they were all caught up in Juan Carlos's sick and twisted nightmare, and neither Jax nor JD could get them out. It was up to her to save them. She had to be strong for them, and she had to trust the doctor in order to stay strong. He had promised her that this was the only way, and she knew that he was right, even though it was taking every ounce of her self-control to do this. But desperate times called for desperate measures - and these were definitely both desperate times and desperate measures.

(In your mind, you must become Maria… That is the only way you and the men you love can survive this… You must do and say things that you know are wrong, but you must stay strong… You cannot let your fear control you… What you must do - shoot the very men you love - is necessary, but I promise you that it is not real…)

(The stone of this ring has been dipped into very powerful toxin that can quickly put a person into a deathlike state when even a minute amount of the drug is absorbed through the skin… When the time comes, you must make certain that you touch the stone against their skin in several places - but be careful not to touch it against your own skin - then you must use this gun to shoot each of them when you are told. The gun is loaded with blanks. It will sound real and they will appear to fall dead, but it is only the toxin at work - nothing more. But it will appear real enough to satisfy my brother…)

She focused on Juan Carlos and Miguel as they fought. She could see that things were quickly falling apart here. Up until this point, everything had gone exactly as the doctor had promised they would, but now Juan Carlos was veering dangerously from the plan that the doctor had laid out for her. And if Juan Carlos got his way - and she had no doubt that he would - then no one would be getting out of here alive. She had to do something quickly to distract him before he became angry enough to shoot JD himself.

(My brother sees you as his Maria - resurrected and whole - and you must maintain that illusion, no matter what…)

"Juan Carlos," she whispered seductively, stepping forward to fully face him again. She lifted her left hand to caress his face, slowly dragging the back of her hand - and the stone of the ring - across his right cheek, then across the pulse points on his throat and then back over his left cheek. (…touch the stone against the skin in several places…) She then pulled his mouth down to hers in a fiery kiss that left Juan Carlos nearly breathless. (… you must become Maria… That is the only way you and the men you love can survive this…)

Jerry had worked his hands free and loosened the ropes on his ankles enough that he thought he could draw his feet up and slip them out. Despite the fact that it made him sick to see Brenda kissing Sanchez again, she provided the perfect distraction to slip free of the ropes undetected. Slowly and carefully, he lifted one foot and then the other until he was completely free, but he remained in the chair so that it appeared that he was still bound. He would go for the gun that Sanchez was holding when the moment was right, but he had to get Brenda out of the way first.

"Querida, you have lost none of your fire," Juan Carlos purred, as he slowly pulled his lips from hers and smiled passionately at Brenda. "But now is not the time for… for…" Suddenly he began to sway slightly, his words slurring, and the passionate smile quickly disappeared, as he quickly realized what was happening.

Brenda saw that Juan Carlos had figured out what was happening, but as she tried to pull out of his embrace, he grabbed her by the hair, jerking her roughly back against him. "¡Puta!" he swore through clenched teeth, as he pressed the gun to her temple. "You have betrayed me once again - and with my own brother, no less!" He was still swaying slightly, but he'd lost none of his strength, which startled Brenda because she had assumed that he would go down as quickly as Jax had.

But Miguel knew why his brother was still standing, despite a dose of the drug that would knock out a normal man. His brother's addiction to pain medication had raised his drug tolerance level; it would take longer for him to be immobilized, so Miguel knew that Juan was still quite capable of firing the gun before the drug took him out. He had to try to talk him out of this.

"Juan, you are wrong. No one has betrayed you," Miguel assured him, trying to keep his voice calm despite the deadly turn of events. If he could keep his brother calm for just another minute or so, he was certain that the toxin would begin to affect him enough that he could safely disarm him.

But Juan Carlos was well aware of that his brother was trying to buy time, and he wasn't about to let him. "Liar! You have been lying to me all along!" he gasped, his voice becoming progressively weaker as the toxin slowly took hold of his body. But he still had enough strength to cock the gun as he kept it fast to Brenda's head.

Brenda whimpered at the sound, closing her eyes and praying for a miracle; if not to save her, at least to save Jax and JD.

Jerry watched in horror at this turn of events, as he was seeing his recurring nightmare of the past few days suddenly brought to life: Sanchez killing Brenda just as he'd killed Maria. He couldn't let that happen.

Jerry realized now that the doctor had been working against his brother all along. He'd evidently given Brenda some sort of device - probably the ring she was wearing - to inconspicuously administer a drug to Jax to knock him out and make him appear dead and now Brenda had used the same drug on Sanchez. He could see that Sanchez was getting more and more unsteady and would soon pass out, but he knew that Sanchez could still easily pull the trigger and kill Brenda before he dropped. Jerry knew that he had to take control of the situation and fast.

"Still the coward, aren't you, Sanchez? … I'm the one you want dead - not her," Jerry taunted, hoping to draw Sanchez's attention.

It worked. Juan Carlos slowly turned toward Jerry. "Jacks!" he snarled, trying hard to focus his eyes, as his vision was becoming distorted now. He could just make out Jerry's outline on the chair. He realized that he would be losing consciousness any moment now, and he also knew that he didn't have the strength to shoot more than once. Which meant that he needed to make the most of that one shot. This was his only chance to make sure that Jacks died tonight. He knew that Miguel would free Jacks if he let him live, and Juan Carlos could not allow the man who had destroyed his life to go on living one more moment.

Juan Carlos pulled the gun from Brenda's head, shakily taking aim at Jerry, which is exactly what Jerry had hoped would happen. Just then the entire compound went completely dark. Jerry had no idea why the lights were suddenly out, but he knew that this was the opportunity he'd been waiting for.

"Run, Brenda!" Jerry shouted, as he sprang to his feet and lunged toward Sanchez.

But at that very moment Sanchez fired wildly into the darkness, and all Jerry heard in response was a muffled scream and then a sickening thud, as a body hit the ground…