Rebecca Foster signed her name on along list provided to her at the Federal Prison. In the next column she carefully spelled out Alexander Montel's name. The Federal prison had higher security and much thicker glass than the jail Brian was in. The number of guards was upped 3 fold and everything was better maintained. As she waited for them to bring out Montel she thought over what she wanted from him. It was a long shot even asking him, but so far she hadn't any other plans.

She heard the jingle of chains as the criminal approached and she watched as he was handcuffed to the chair on one hand and picked up the phone with the other. Becky did the same.

"And you are…?" He said seductively in his French accent. She resisted the urge to grimace.

"A friend of Brian Gamble's" She said in a low tone. He leaned a little closer to the glass and glanced to the side to look at the guard.

"Did he send you here?"

"No, I came on my own. I have a proposition. Are you a reasonable man?"

"Reason is an opinionated thing, no?"

"Listen to my proposition." She started. "Had Gamble gotten you out of the states you would have given him 100 mil. But he didn't."


"He tried though, and damn hard, how bout a consolation prize?"

"Why would I pay him for not doing the job?"

"So I can post his bail. I know your assets are frozen but I also know that you have backup funds, off the record."

"And why would I spring him when I'm still in here?"

"Because if he gets out of prison…" She let her sentence trail off so the idea could sink in. With Brain out of prison he could potentially spring Montel.

"Call 1-888-909-1432, ask for Joe. When Joe answers tell him that the rum is out. He will ask you how much to order, tell him 5 bottles to the guesthouse. That goes to a secure P.O. box in the L.A. post office, number 4545. The money will be there within the day."

"Thank you Mr. Montel." She said with a smirk.

"And keep this in mind, if Gamble doesn't show up before I'm moved into INTERPOL custody, I will send out for him and you." He stated threateningly.

"I'll keep that in mind." She stated before hanging up the phone. Good thing this man wasn't the brightest.

The next day she made the call and the day after that she was in possession of 10 million dollars. She decided that he wouldn't find out that she had taken a few extra mils. And that they would need them to get out of the country once Brian was free.

Of course this would take time. The money was all in cash and she couldn't just walk up to the prison with a bag full of bills. She hid five grand in her house and over time she deposited the rest into a bank account in another identity that she was forging. Of course, she had to hire some professional sleaze to help her with that and it put a small dent in the 5 mil she had stashed, but she did what she needed. Eventually she was ready and she drove to the prison under he new identity, Tamara Rivers.

Brian looked up as the guard stood outside his cell just as he had a month ago when Beck had come to visit him.

"Your bail has been posted." The guard stated. Brian didn't move for a few seconds. When Beck had left he had thought she would never find a way to break him free, and he had resided himself to the next thirteen years in the hold. It seems he had underestimated her.

"Lets go." The guard said impatiently and Brian stood to be cuffed for the last time.

Beck leaned against her car as she waited at the gate. Everything was going to plan, but she was still on edge, nervous that something would slip up and expose where she had gotten the money or uncover her true identity. She picked at her nails. She wasn't this nervous until now. Maybe she was worried about something else. Deep down she knew exactly what that was. She couldn't shake the idea of Brian leaving her like she had him. She would spring him and as soon as he got back home he would pack his backs and leave without her.

She heard the click of the lock on the outer door and watched as it slowly opened. For the first time in two years she saw the Brian she remembered. Not the Brian on the nightly news toting guns and running from the cops. Not the Brian dressed in a bright orange jumpsuit and sporting chains. She saw her Brian, the man who would give his life for anyone that he cared about.

She straightened up and moved around to the front of her car, her stomach doing a nervous flip.

Brian Stepped out into the sunlight with his own close on his back and the familiar feel of his dog tags around his neck. He passed the last guard and looked up the ramp to the last gate he would ever be behind. Beyond that was a woman in a white top and skirt with a large white sunhat on her head.

She didn't look like Beck. He stated to wonder who else could have possibly sprung him. He knew no one with that kind of money and really could think of no one else who would have cared. As he got closer and pushed open the gate he caught a glimpse of her cropped hair under the hat. It was the same shade as Beck's hair, the feature that had first caught his eye back on the base in Mogadishu.

She tilted her head back and he could finally see her face clearly under the hat. She then stuck out her hand.

"Tamara Rivers." He shook it, feeling it best to play along with whatever she was doing. "Shall we?" She said and she walked to the driver's side door. Brian got in the other side and she started to drive. Once they were a safe distance away from the prison she took off the hat with a groan. "God! I don't know how women wear those things!" She tossed it in the back seat and ran a hand through her hair. Brian watched her curiously, still barely believing she had done it.

"Tamara Rivers?"

"I had to keep up appearances." She said turning to him. He let out the slightest chuckle and looked her over. He had only seen her dressed up on few occasions, and even then she had never worn this much white.

"White looks good on you." He said, still a little bit stunned. She smiled a little. "Makes your hair stand out." He said reaching out and touching one of the cropped ends.

"I'm sorry I cut it off." She ran her hand through it again. He voice was shaking a little from nerves. "I know you like long hair." She cleared her throat. And gripped the steering wheel.

"It's alright, It'll grow back." He stated. "'Sides, it's kinda nice." He took in how it hovered around her jaw and framed her face. She still clutched the steering wheel. "Beck, I'm not gonna leave you."

"I would understand if you wanted to." She offered up. "After all I walked out on you."

"Beck." He said a little exasperated. He reached out and slid one of her hands off the steering wheel. "The last thing I want to do is loose you again." He felt her grip tighten on her hand and she smiled.

"Don't get ahead of yourself." She said with laughter in her voice. She pulled her hand out of his and reached into a bag in the back seat, revealing two passports. After a quick glance she tossed one to him. He opened it to see his face on the second page, but a different name typed out beside.

"Quint Lassinger?" He let his head fall back on the headrest as a huge smile lit up his face. "Where do you come up with these names?"

"Well Quint, from Jaws, you like that movie." He chuckled. "And Lassinger was my boot camp officer. Nice guy, relatively." They were silent for a moment and watched the desert go by.

"What's the plan?"

"How does Australia sound?"

"Beautiful." He watched as some sand blew across the road in front of him and wondered how she had made this happen, but he didn't want to ask, not right now. Instead he reached for her hand again and kissed it before resting his arm on the center consol, entwining his fingers with hers. "I love you Beck."

"I'll always love you Bri."