I do not own any of the characters created by the very talented Mr Matthew Reilly, I only hope that I can do them some justice.

I do however own all the other characters created here.

Some of you may recognise the "Angel" from one of my previous stories featuring characters from Top Gun.

Anyhow, I hope you enjoy it and any reviews would be greatly appreciated.

Cheers TraceMK

Nighttime was always the worst because that was when the dream came.

It was always the same, and he always woke up in a cold sweat, the bedsheets twisted and drenched as he unconsciously wrestled the demons that entered unbidden. A scream of horror stuck in his dry throat as he sat bolt upright, trembling from the gruesome images still fresh in his mind.

It didn't matter that he hadn't been present when the love of his life, Libby Gant, aka Fox, was brutally murdered. He had heard enough about what happened from the Black Knight to have ingrained almost every painful detail in to his memory, and these memories came to life every night in the recurring nightmare.

Trapped behind a pane of thick glass, the terrible scene before him seemed to unfold in slow motion. Libby was manacled to what appeared to be a crude guillotine, it's wickedly sharp metal edge glinting under the artificial lights.

He smashed his fists against the glass with all his might, screaming at her to just hang on, he would find a way to get to her somehow. Then the blade began it's deadly decent and she looked at him sadly, her beautiful blue eyes pleading with him to save her, but at the same time resigned to her inevitable fate.

The dream always ended there, just before the blade hit it's mark, while Captain Shane Schofield, aka the Scarecrow, looked on helplessly. He was able to save the world, but hadn't been there to save the life of the woman he loved and he was not sure that he would ever be able to erase the terrible guilt that was eating through him from the inside.

Still shaking, he glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table. 3.52am,it blinked at him, throwing a soft glow across the otherwise darkened room. Not much point in trying to get back to sleep now, Scarecrow thought to himself. He was never able to relax his fried nerves enough after that dream to enable slumber to retake him. He was also a little afraid that the dream would come again, and he was not sure if he would be able to survive it twice in one night.

Wearily, he rose from his bed and flicked on the bedside lamp before heading to the bathroom. He splashed his face with icy cold water from the faucet, enjoying it's refreshing sting. The haunted face that looked back at him from the mirror was one that he was having trouble recognizing.

Dark smudges appeared under his brilliant blue eyes, almost disguising the bottom half of the scars that had given him his call sign. The stubble on his face was thick and unruly and his dark hair was in bad need of cutting.

"Schofield, you are a complete mess." He chided himself aloud. "If Fox was here, she would give you a kick in the ass and demand that you "sucked it up Marine" and got on with it."

Scarecrow smiled at that thought, something he rarely did these days. He left the bathroom and headed for the kitchen in search of a much needed cup of coffee. As he was taking his first sip of the bitter black liquid, the silence was interrupted by the shrill beeping emitting from his little black pager device. Frowning, he dialed the number showing into his cell phone, not realizing that the conversation he was about to have would change the direction of his life, and just might save him from himself.