Donovan jerked his head up. From the feed covering the main gates, they could see a line of SUV's and SWAT cars entering the school grounds. Carter felt a flood of relief. Donovan stared as if he wasn't sure what he was seeing.

"How'd they know?" he asked.

Carter shook her head, her eyes still glued to the screen. "Must have been my tracker. It's the only explanation."

Donovan took a seat beside Carter. The line of cars fanned out, creating a perimeter on the inside of the school gates. The instant they stopped moving doors were flung open and hordes of men in full body gear clambered out. All Carter and Donovan could do was stare, the pressure of their solitude lifted. In the safety of the security room, watching their help arrive, their hyper awareness eased up.

A man in a black suit, wearing a FBI bullet proof vest, stepped out of one of the SUVs followed by more hard faced men dressed in similar attire. From the second his foot hit the ground, the man was barking out orders that neither Carter or Donovan could hear. But one thing was clear, this was the man in charge. Within minutes, stations were up and troops of men were formed into packs and ready to move on command.

As the scene continued to unraveled on the lawn of the school, Carter became aware of the ache in her arm. The dull throbbing pulled her from the mystified stupor she had been in. With the return of her thoughts, she noticed the time and was shocked to realize it had been less than an hour since the alarm had gone off.

She shifted back in her chair, wincing. The expression broke Donovan from his daze and he looked at her.

"Your arm?" he asked.

She nodded. She looked down at it, eyeing the sleeve that was now thoroughly ruined. Looking at Donovan, she raised her arm.

"You mind?" she asked.

He rolled his chair closer to her, his legs bumping against hers. She leaned towards him, offering up her other sleeve. In one smooth motion, he ripped it off and moved to her wounded arm. Carefully, he held her arm, eyeing the amount of blood she had lost. His fingers were warm as they steadied the limb and tied the new bandage over the old. Carter looked down at her bare arms then up at Donovan.

His face was only a few inches away from hers.

"I don't think the ripped shirt is my look," she said.

"I don't know," he said, his voice low. "I could argue a few points in its defense."

He stared at her. In his blue eyes were all the emotions Carter felt. Her heart jumped a few beats before quickening its pace. The feel of his fingers on her arm still lingered. In that moment, she had the strongest urge to tear both their masks off and kiss him; ignoring the consequences of the remaining knock out gas. She could see in his face the same thoughts playing through his mind.

They both shifted closer.

The sharp buzz of a radio in the room shattered the moment.

They froze, jolted from the intensity of emotions racing through them. Donovan pulled back first, breaking their connection.

"Agent Porter come in," a baritone voice commanded.

Carter and Donovan went searching for the radio. The command came once more as Donovan found it.

"Agent Porter is currently unconscious," Donovan said, rushing to answer, "as well as the rest of the security team."

It was then that Carter became aware of the other set of men that were zip tied and comatose in the far corner of the room. She looked to the screens. The gray haired man glared at the front doors, as he held a radio similar to the one in Donovan's hand.

"Who am I speaking to?" the man said, iron in his tone.

"This is Agent Donovan Keller of the Secret Service," Donovan said, his voice strong.

Carter watched as the gray haired man turned to a man beside and talked rapidly. A screen was consulted and the man in charge turned his attention back to the school.

"Agent Keller this is Associate Deputy Director Townsend with the FBI," he said, his face hard as stone. "I have no record of you. You have one minute to explain to me who you really are and why this radio is not in the hands of an FBI agent."

Carter's gaze jumped to Donovan but he didn't show any concern.

"With all due respect, sir," Donovan said, his deep voice confident though respectful, "it's because you do not have the right clearance. Now if you will connect me to-"

Townsend's eyes narrowed at Donovan's words. Carter could see irritation playing across his expression.

"I am second to the Director of the FBI," he said, cutting Donovan off. "I can assure you I have the right clearance."

Donovan flexed his jaw, annoyance darting through his features.

"Deputy Townsend," Donovan said, trying to hold in his impatience. "We do not have time for this. I'm currently in a school that has been hit with knock out gas and filled with an unknown amount of hostiles. I need-"

"No." The word was a sharp refusal. "Understand this. I am standing outside a school in lock down and talking to a so-called agent by the name of Donovan Keller that we have no record of. There is nothing you can say-"

Townsend cut himself off when a faint voice spoke. Carter looked to Donovan, but his eyes were fixed on the screen, his fist clenching the radio. From the speaker they could hear a distant voice.

"Did you say Keller?"

Carter turned her attention to the screen. There was chatter in her ear from the ear piece but she pulled it out, needing to hear what was coming next. Beside her, Donovan did the same.

From behind Townsend a man in his late twenties with Donovan's similar facial structure stepped forward. Townsend stared at him. Donovan's tight scowl lessened.

"Yes," Townsend said, unaware that he was still holding down the talk button.

Donovan's brother looked on the Deputy Director with the utmost respect, his posture military straight.

"If he said Donovan Keller, sir, you can trust he is telling the truth," he said. "One call to Director Joseph will confirm it."

"You know him?"

"He's my brother, sir. His current position is highly classified."

Townsend pulled out his phone. Carter waited as he made a call, a bubble of nerves playing in her stomach. They were unable to hear the call, the Deputy Director finally releasing the talk button. She looked at Donovan, who was still staring at the monitor.

"That's Brock?" she asked.

He gave a single nod. The radio was filled with static as they waited.

"Agent Keller," Townsend said, his voice no longer harsh.

"Yes?" Donovan said.

"What's your status?" With that simple question all matters of Donovan's legitimacy were pushed aside.

Donovan's shoulders lowered and the crease in his forehead vanished.

"The entire school is unconscious. The Falcon is secure in the Lock room as well as Lancer. Six hostiles have been neutralized. I'm positioned in the security booth, along with a civilian. Carter Owens. Her father is Agent Owens of the Secret Service."

On screen Townsend took all of this information in with a straight faced expression. At the name 'Owens' he turned away from the radio and called out something. A second later Carter's father came around a van and into view of the camera.

At the sight of him, Carter felt every fear and knot of tension disappear. Her body sagged as a weight was taken off her shoulders. His expression was impassive, but she could tell from the stiffness in his posture that worry was eating away at him.

Townsend spoke to him. He gave a single nod and a one word response. Carter's heart ached to run out of the security booth and find the familiar comfort she always knew in his strong arms.

"Agent Keller," Townsend was saying, "my men are preparing to breach the main doors. I need you to vent the school."

"Tell me what to do," Donovan said.

Carter watched as he followed Townsend's instruction, typing away on the computer. He worked and moved with an assurance of someone confident in their place. He spoke to Townsend as a soldier would a commander.

A deep respect came over Carter as she studied him, seeing a man she had only glimpsed. Before her was someone who had earned his title and deserved to keep it. She felt a tired smile tugging at her lips.

Donovan hit enter and a faint whirring sound came on above them, breaking her from her thoughts. She glanced up at the vents, imagining she could see the gas being sucked away. Thirty seconds later the computer flashed a message.

"Venting complete."

"Deputy Townsend," Donovan said, removing his gas mask, "you're clear to breach."

"Copy that."

Townsend nodded to a group of men beside him. The men approached the school with swift, calculated movements. Carter pulled off her mask and took a deep breath. The air was clear and seemed to strengthen her aching muscles. Donovan watched the group's progress with an expressionless face.

When they made it to the doors, Carter felt herself easing further into the chair. The image of their salvation drained all remaining tension from her.

The moment was short lived. The front doors stayed sealed, despite the men's access codes. One soldier turned back and spoke into a comm set. Townsend listened, a frown edging it's way between his eyebrows. Carter felt her stomach clench and her muscles tighten. Donovan went rigid beside her.

Townsend said something into a different radio and the men fell back to the perimeter of cars. Once they were away from the doors, Townsend shifted radio's.

"Keller," he said.

Donovan straightened. "Yes, sir."

"They've overridden our access codes," Townsend said. "We can not breach. I need you to reverse the lockdown on your side. The manual switch is in Principal's Wither's office. I'll give you instructions on where it's located."

"I'm on it, sir. What do I need to do?"

While Donovan listened to Townsend's directions, Carter rifled though the unconscious men's pockets. She forced away the weariness to her body. By the time Donovan knew what they were doing, she had set guns on the table along with more zip ties. He nodded at her.

"I understand sir," he said. "I'll be radio silent until it's complete."

"Understood," Townsend said.

Donovan switched off the radio and slipped it into a pocket. He looked at Carter, his face hard with determination.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Let's finish this," she said, though there was a dragging sensation in her body she couldn't shake off.

Donovan took an extra gun and tucked into the back of his pants. They checked their clips for the remaining darts, before moving to the door. As Donovan released the locks and eased the door open, Carter felt the buzz of adrenaline kicking in and pushing out her tiredness. They slipped into the hallway, guns trained in either direction.

They kept the same form they had before, Donovan taking the lead as Carter brought up the rear. They moved quickly and efficiently, accustomed to each other's thoughts and pace. In under two minutes they had covered the distance to the main office.

At the final corner, Donovan peered around. Further down the hallway, windows along the far wall showcased the office's interior. From his vantage point, he could see four men and Mr. Philips standing in the center of the office.

Donovan pulled his head back and looked at Carter.

"We have five hostiles," he whispered. "We need to move now before more arrive."

She nodded, her heart jack hammering her rib cage. Donovan turned back to the hallway and dropped into a crouch, Carter following. The pain in her arm seemed to weigh her down, but she did her best to ignore it.

They sped across the width of the corridor, then edged their way down the hallway, towards the office door. Beyond the windows they could hear the hum of voices. The deep bass sound wound Carter's nerves into tight coils. When she caught the higher register of Mr. Philips voice her blood surged with anger.

Donovan crossed to the other side of the door and held up his hand, halting Carter. She waited for his directions. The voices continued talking, their words muffled. Anger. Protest. Caution. Command.

Donovan pointed to himself and then to the right. Carter nodded, knowing they would be going in the same formation as last time. Her stomach knotted as he reached up for the door handle. Blood pounded in her ears, deafening her. The metal casing of the gun dug into her palm as she squeezed it to help her remain alert.

Donovan turned the handle and they burst through the door, guns raised and targets already in sight. The room's occupants barely had time to turn around before shots were fired.

Carter's first dart took down Mr. Philips. Donovan got two quick shots into two of the men before he was attacked.

As Carter shifted her gun to her next target, she knew something was wrong.

Her movement wasn't fast enough, even with the boost of adrenaline. By the time she had her gun leveled at the other man, he was before her. He wrapped one bear sized hand over the gun. Carter let it go, narrowly missing having her fingers crushed.

She kneed the man in the side and swung at his face, battling against sudden blood loss. Only her knee made contact, the man easily batting aside her fist.

A trickle of dread set in.

The man reached out for her. In his eyes she could read his resistance to harm a girl, and she managed to duck away.

Taking a step back, she twisted and grabbed one of the plastic chairs from against the wall. With all her remaining strength, and more speed than she thought she possessed, she brought it up and smashed it against her opponent.

The blow sent him stumbling back, but didn't have lasting damage. As he regained his footing, blood dripped from the cut the chair had caused and rid the man of any doubt about hurting her.

He was in front of her before she could devise a plan of attack. She raised her fists and swung at his face, but the blow never made it.

There was an explosion of pain as he punched her ribs, tearing a cry from Carter's lips. He sent a second blow to her face. Carter felt as if she had been hit by a semi-truck, the force of it slamming her back into the wall. Stars flickered before her vision as pain pierced her brain.

She heard a gun shot, the sound seeming to come from a distance.

Donovan's name rose to her lips, right before the world went black.

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

Hey hey hey!

Before you start attacking let me just say one thing-

*Turns around and starts running for dear life. Throws back questions to distract you*

Thoughts on killing Donovan off?

(😳 I've never seen so many glares form so fast! And where did you get a switchblade from?!)

Wow there really is nothing I can say that would cheer you up, is there?

Ummmm...famous guy you think hot??

Tambaya (Hausa) this question is from the pretty : Worst experience of your life?

Answer: Well, considering the downer I just left you on and the fact that life is depressing enough as it is, I'm going to say it's in the past and life moves on, best to move on with it! There's no need to share something that would make everyone cry...or just me. Either way tomorrow is a new day and a smile burns more calories than a frown!

Don't even worry about voting, commenting, or following. I know you won't anyways since I just did that to you.

Also this collage was made by and I think it's pretty awesome, what do you think??