"Nicholas!" Angie called out again, in Eckvara's voice. The burning was still very intense in her throat and shoulders now as she took another step, trying to concentrate on the snow. There was a slow creak from the fourth shed down from her. She could see in her mind, the ice, the feel of the cold and she was winning. She continued to concentrate, feeling stronger and more in control. The tall, impressive frame of Nicholas Czewt came out of the door. His dark eyes were opened wide in shock, his face flushed, as he wildly moved his hands in front of him as if protecting himself.

She found herself suddenly, without warning, slipping away. Her imagery was melting as he yelled out at her, his verbal commandment unknown to her.

Michael had systematically cut off the Buffalo police with his own force. They had withdrawn as instructed. The sharpshooters had pulled away as well. As he crouched closer, taking new cover, he could see Mira at the corner of the first house. Speaking softly into his com, he asked if Francis had been picked up. The message back was "affirm".

By the time Mira saw Michael, and realized all her own support had been seized, she could only do what she was sworn to do, to protect and serve. If Michael shot her, than so be it. She was not going to let the bastard get away. She was not going to see Angie hurt. She could get a clear shot now, as she saw Czewt standing like a zombie in front of Angie. The strange thing was, neither was saying anything now.

Rollie had stirred, shaking his head, and his anger was explosive. He pulled himself up and stared around the corner of the van. He could see Michael, poised with his gun at Mira. He could see Mira with her gun aimed at Czewt and he could see Angie staring at Czewt, the two, seemingly mesmerized.

Michael wiped the sweat from his brow, his aim on Mira. The trepidation in his heart was real. It countermined everything he had been taught by the organization he was so deeply into, that he had left Mira for, that he had given up his life for…as his finger trembled on the trigger, he fought for control.

Czewt suddenly cried out, and Angie screamed herself as the white-hot searing sensation began to burn inside her head, the pain intense. She felt Czewt's hand go to her throat, his vice-like grip choking her instantly.

Rollie stood with the horror of which man to stop and with what? His dilemma was compounded as he saw Angie's legs buckle and saw Michael's finger pull back the trigger. He screamed Mira's name and then at the same time raced toward Angie and Czewt. Mira fired a round at Czewt, missing as the bullet from Michael's gun entered her shoulder, jerking her aim off, and she went spinning to the ground.

Rollie ran past Michael who stood twenty feet from Mira's collapsed body. As Michael reacted to his passing, aiming his gun at Rollie, a puff cell of mist hit him in the neck, exploding and dazing him. He was then kicked swiftly with the front of a boot to his head, knocking him unconscious. He never saw his attacker.

One of Michael's men fired at Rollie, sending him for cover near one of the row houses.

"Stop your bloody firing! He's killing her, you sons of bitches!" he yelled out, as another volley came at him.

"Hold your fire!" called out a voice, a familiar voice to Rollie. The voice struggled, raspy and breathless. Rollie could see Angie's face, Eckvara's face as Czewt and she had collapsed on their knees in the dirt. She looked unconscious.

"Oh God, no!" he shouted, and he started to run toward them, caring about nothing, save Angie. He had nothing but himself to fight this man. Just one angry man whose wife was dying before his eyes. What stopped him was the man who had told Michael's men to hold their fire.

He stood with his back to Rollie, facing the kneeling couple on the ground. Rollie knew who he was, but how had he gotten there?

Baiel, his wound dressings saturated with blood, his body in shock from loss of that blood; stood like a statue. He had dressed hurriedly, one boot covered by his jeans, the other pant leg caught on the rim of his boot. His face was a marbleized white and set in a concentration of energy that was being directed at Czewt. One hand was out to Rollie as if to ward him away. The other was on Angie's head.

Rollie fell to his knees as well, dizziness and darkness trying to claim him. He fought to keep conscious as he heard Angie cough and saw the flutter of her eyes as Czewt's hold on her throat loosened. With little physical strength left, Baiel moved forward, and pushed Angie to one side. Her body fell, the blackness in her mind now welcomed. Rollie moaned and watched then as Baiel took something from his pocket. It glistened in the morning light; the knife that he held looked similar to the knife that Angie had described- the one that Eckvara had cut her with. The fact that only Rollie could see this knife had boded well for Baiel for Michael's men could not see it from their distance away. He stood weaving slightly above Czewt and then dropped to his knees, his eyes never leaving Czewt. With the knife in his hand, he waited as his pupils grew to full black orbs and Czewt suddenly looked surprised. He smiled at Baiel strangely and then Baiel lurched forward as if hugging him. But Rollie could see that he had sent the knife deep into Czewt's heart.

"For Eckvara…" he told Czewt softly as he saw the life force leave Czewt's body. Czewt's body collapsed against him and Baiel shuddered. He looked at Angie's still form lying on the ground, masked as Eckvara and smiled. He moved over toward her, Czewt's body sliding to the ground as Rollie tried to move forward, collapsing again trying to get to his feet.

Michael's men could now see Czewt clearly. They moved forward, with no command. Rollie could only watch as Baiel kneeled over Angie. He pulled her up into his arms, holding her face in his hands. He was calling Eckvara's name out to her and she was stirring. He then bent his head and kissed her softly as her eyes fluttered open. She did not seem shocked, but reached her hand up and touched his face. He smiled, his hold on her suddenly released and she caught herself, pulling herself up as he collapsed. His head fell into her lap.

She looked down at him, touching his hair softly, then looked up and screamed for Rollie, seeing him struggling again to get to her. His heart was pounding with raging energy now as he finally reached her, and sank beside her, holding her in his arms. She still cradled Baiel's head in her lap and Michael's men surrounded them, their weapons no longer drawn as they saw their fallen comrade dead.

Francis had been freed and went to Mira's side, her body slumped still against the wall of the first house. The bullet wound to her shoulder was through and through, bleeding some, but not seemingly, the cause for her to be unconscious. He could see though, that her jeans were covered with blood. He looked up, yelling for an ambulance, looking over to where Michael was being assisted up and being attended to first.

"Hey, you sorry bastards, get over here right now! She's dying!" he screamed. Michael looked up, shocked. He came over to Mira's side as Francis tried to push him away. His crew that had been attending him, knelt beside Mira and were trying to assess her condition. They looked puzzled as they drew back and looked at Michael.

"I hit her in the shoulder, a flesh wound, there's no way she should be bleeding like this!" Michael told Francis, his hand pushing Francis back and pulling Mira into his arms, "I had to stop her from killing Czewt. It was my job. It was my job!" he told him and anyone around him at that point.

Francis could hear the sirens in the distance. He could see the gypsies being led from their sheds, being rounded up. He could see Rollie holding Angie and she, in turn, still cradling Baiel in her lap. The world seemed so surreal to him then, as he wondered if anyone had gotten what they really wanted here. He shook his head in disgust.

Angie, with Rollie's help, carefully laid Baiel's head down, "Get this mask off me, Rollie," she told him, clawing at it and he reached inside his pocket, feeling for the remote and turning it off. She pulled it off as if it had been burning her and Rollie could see his own wife's face now. She was ashen but her lips were starting to pink up as she removed the wig and threw it disdainfully away.

They stood up, Angie noting the large gash to Rollie's forehead. She touched it as he winced and they looked over together, seeing Francis and Michael bending over someone. Angie could feel Rollie stiffen and she knew he was going for Michael as he left her side. She ran after him, calling his name to no avail.

"You- you bloody…" Rollie started to say to Michael but stopped as he saw Mira's unconscious body in his arms. Angie came over, her face mortified as she dropped back to her knees. What all the men standing there, including Michael, didn't seemed to realize was perfectly clear to Angie as she screamed for a blanket.

Michael looked at Angie, startled and puzzled. She pulled Mira out of Michael's arms, putting her head on the ground. She told Rollie to raise Mira's feet up to his waist. She threw the offered blanket over Mira, wrapping it securely around her.

"What? What's wrong?" Michael asked her, grabbing Angie's arm.

"She's having a miscarriage, you idiot!" Angie told him through clenched teeth as Francis shut his eyes and Rollie blanched, still holding her feet up. Angie stared at Michael, not understanding him. He had shot his own wife to try to save Czewt. His job was more important than any love that he could have for Mira. He had proven that.

Michael looked at her blankly for a moment and he stood up, seeing that Rollie was staring at him as well. His face revealed the anguish of Michael's betrayal to him as a friend and to Mira.

"I don't understand you!" Rollie said, shaking his head, "you are the coldest son-of-bitch I have ever known."

Michael said nothing. He waited next to them, but he was not allowed "with" them. His men were rounding up the rest of the camp, dismantling the hashish farming equipment and paraphernalia. The ambulance roared into the opening, with a crew coming to Mira's side and taking over. Angie stood up, watching them carry her to the ambulance rear with Francis beside her. She was stirring slightly and calling for of all people, Michael.

Francis told her not to talk but she grabbed him by the shirt collar and insisted in her own way. He came back, begrudgingly and told Michael that she wanted to see him. For the first time, they saw some emotion on his face as he smiled slightly and went to her. He stepped up into the back of the ambulance and they all watched as Mira took his hand. The doors shut on the two of them as the ambulance pulled out, the sirens blaring, echoing against the hills of the Medea Orchard.

Francis stood alone. He looked so wounded as he surveyed the scene. There were people standing around the bodies of Czewt and Baiel and a flurry of activity around the farm. Angie came over and put her arms around him, hugging him.

"Hey, Ange- you got a heart of gold, you know that?" he said to her, his nose touching hers.

"Yeah, that's what they say…" she replied, smiling at him as she released him. Rollie pushed in against his shoulder slightly with his own and smiled himself.

"So, whatcha say to getting back to the van, calling Sarah and telling her you're alright, mate."

"Yeah," he said, his voice breaking, and he wiped a tear from his eye, "I really want to talk to her, just to hear her voice right now."

The three of them walked back slowly across the orchard fields toward the F/X van. It was a beautiful morning with the sun now up over the horizon. The once spectacular clash of fiery colors that had announced the sunrise had dissipated, leaving the calm tranquility of a sky of endless blue.

***************************************************************

Epilogue:

"So, I thought I would come over and check on the Tyler's," Mira said, standing at the loft door. Angie grinned and let her in as Rollie looked up from his workbench. He was wearing magnifying loops and peered up over them, smiling.

"Hey there, you're looking swell," he told her, putting down what he was working on so intently.

Angie showed her over to the couch, "Hey, want some of Rollie's bushwhacker tea?"

Mira made a face as Rollie looked hurt, "well, okay then. I guess it won't kill me."

Angie went off to the kitchen as Rollie came over and sat down across from her. He leaned over, his elbows resting on his knees, holding his face as he looked at her: "So, how are you, really?"

"I'm okay, Tyler, really!" she told him, shaking her head and smiling.

"Yeah?" he asked her again.

"Yeah…" she told him, firmly and touched his hand slightly, "thanks for everything, really. While I was in the hospital, the visits, the flowers, everything."

"We do like to please," he replied.

"Yeah, well- it helped a lot!" she told him, now getting a little ill at ease, as she rubbed her pants legs with the palms of her hands.

"Hey Mira?" Rollie asked softly.

She looked at him, knowing what he was going to ask. That was why she had actually come over, she was ready to tell them both. She knew it was time.

Angie had returned with the tea and Mira took her cup as Angie gave one to Rollie. She sat down next to Mira, hugging her own cup, blowing into it to cool it down. Her eyebrows raised slightly, at the silence between Rollie and Mira.

"Angie, I was just getting ready to tell you and Rollie…"

"Mira, you don't have to talk about …" Angie began to tell her but Mira breathed deeply in and put her hand up, interrupting Angie.

"Yes, I do. Michael has left for good. We talked for a long time while I was in the hospital. He and I both agreed that it was best that we stop this crazy relationship that we started again. Really, with the baby lost and you know me, I have to have my work and him, he wanted to go back and do his thing- It was just for the best, you know. Okay, end of story. Let's not talk about it anymore."

Rollie and Angie nodded silently, their eyes meeting for a moment as Mira perked up and said,

"But hey, let me tell you about this nickel and dime guy that has been suddenly pulling big jewelry heists in Chinatown…"

"Oh no, Mira. No more!" Rollie and Angie said in unison.

***********************************************************

On a plane headed for Costa Rica, Michael Lopez stared out the window. He was looking down at the landmasses so tiny below him, everything so small and insignificant to his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, sighing deeply and then noticed a little girl, her large brown eyes looking at him with curiosity. She had stood up in her chair, looking over the back of the seat at him. She suddenly giggled at him, her dark braids reminding him of a young girl he knew so well, many years ago. A lump formed in his throat at the sudden anguish he felt and had accepted. The little girl stopped smiling and asked him in a concerned voice;

"Que es su llama?" (what is your name?)

He answered, without thinking; "Miguel". (Michael)

She smiled and he thought he heard her say; "Me llama es Palmira." (My name is Palmira.)

FINE