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He hears them call after him, hears Commander Taylor shout out an order for him to stop. This is the first time Guzman has ever openly disobeyed an order from Taylor, but in his defense right now he hardly feels like himself. Guzman has no idea who the man charging through the streets with a snarl on his face is. All he knows is that he's angry.
He wont find her at her home, not now; they're escaping, after all, not relaxing at home on the couch. There's no reason for her to be in the transport center, there's no way they'll be able to steal a rover while nearly every soldier is on alert, guarding every known exit.
Every--known--exit.
There's one that he knows of, and it's because of him that she knows it, too. Hell, why did he show it to her? Had he really been so eager for her approval that he showed her a way in and out of the colony? Of course, he merely meant at the time to sneak them away for some privacy, not give her an escape route. He couldn't have known she'd use it for this.
It's dark out, the moon only just risen, but that doesn't deter him from finding her. He's a soldier, has fought in Somalia, North Korea, and countries that most people aren't even allowed to know exist-he can and will find her, even in the dark.
It's close to the gap in the fence when he sees her. Where the other rebels are, he doesn't know. But he's not overly concerned about them, only her.
She's making a break for the gap, running at full speed with a gun in her hand.. He launches himself at her, a loud thud marking their collision, and they tumble to the ground. The woman is strong and she fights against him as he lands on top of her, but he wins, eventually pins her fists to the ground and uses his heavier weight to keep her there.
It is dark, yes, but not so dark that he can't see the look on her face. She's angry too.
She has no right to be angry. This is her fault, she's betrayed the colony. Not him. Her.
He ought to call out, let his fellow soldiers know he's caught a rebel: the beautiful Mira. But he doesn't, the shout dying before it even had a chance. Instead, he glowers down at her, tightening his grip on her wrist when she tries to get free. He wonders if she'll be left with bruises.
“Mira.”
She meets his glare with one of her own, dark eyes meeting with his blue. She's not just angry, she's guilty. Guzman revels in it, and hates it. Wishing guilt upon another is not who he is, but that's how Mira affects him. She's once said that he brought out the good in her. He'd told her that she brought out the interesting side of him. She'd laughed, unaware that wasn't entirely good. Mira brought out the man in him, stripped away the good soldier and turned him into a godforsaken human being.
“Isaac.” she answers.
He tries to say something, cannot find the words. Never has he felt so enraged. His love, his Mira...a traitor. From the start. He'd been nothing but a tool for her, hadn't he?
“Well, aren't you going to turn me in?” she asks.
“I should.”
She looked at him, waiting.
“Explain this to me.” he orders.
Her jaw clenches, a silent refusal.
There's not much more he can really do. He's got her pinned down, trapped, already has his hands clamped painfully around her wrist. He can, of course, call out, but the option is dismissed as quickly as it appears. So he lowers his face until it's directly above hers, lips inches apart. She wants to kiss, he can tell by how she angles her mouth to fit his perfectly, but she doesn't come any closer, nor does he.
“Explain, damn it. Tell me what the hell is going on.”
“No.”
Their lips crash together, teeth clinking momentarily. They work over the other furiously, biting and plundering until neither can breath. When she tries to move, he slips a hand from her wrist to her hair, which is in a messy, loose pony tail tonight, and tugs sharply, eliciting a small gasp from her. Her hand grips his arm, neither pushing him away or pulling him closer.
“You owe me answers.” he pants. He pulls away enough to see her expression.
Her eyes are closed, her face scrunched up like she's in pain. Bullshit, because they've been in a position similar to this many times; it's actually one of their favorites. So if it's not physical pain, then what?
Finally she opens her eyes again, and her pained look fades, leaving behind a look that he's only caught glimpses of, one that he knows she rarely allows to weigh on her features. Mira is sad.
“But I can't give them to you.” she answers quietly.
“Why me?” he demands.
Mira snorts. “You weren't part of the plan. I would never have allowed us to happen even if you were.”
This brings him up short. “What?”
Mira shakes her head, hisses slightly when the move is hindered by his hand in her hair. “Seduction, Isaac? You think...you think I've been seducing you.” It's not a question, this is obvious conclusion.
“You've been using me to get to Commander Taylor-” he said.
“There are more effective ways to get to your stupid Commander than by seducing his lieutenant-and one that's not even second in command.” She knows that's a low blow, that he's always worked hard to someday be like Wash, or even Taylor himself. He pulls on her hair again and she grunts at him in annoyance. He knows she doesn't like to surrender all the power to another, for him to flaunt this must me driving her insane.
“Why me, then? You could have used anyone-” he insist.
“Listen to me! I wasn't seducing you. You weren't part of the plan.” It ends in a murmur, a quiet acknowledgment of a fact that will, in the end, hurt more.
They stare at each other, faces contorted in pain. He can't--she can't--they cannot. She's made her side clear: she is a rebel, the cause unknown. He has always known his side: he is a soldier, his cause the welfare of the colony and his loyalty with Commander Taylor.
“I'm sorry, Isaac.” she whispers. The apology is so unlike her, she has never, ever apologized. Not to Dr. Wallace when she gave him a nice shiner for 'incessant babbling', not to the merchant when he tried to con her out of her money and she bruised his shoulder. Certainly not to him.
“Sorry doesn't change anything.” he whispers back.
“I know.”
He slackens his grip on her hair so her head rest in hand. His other hand releases her wrist to take her hand in his.
He wants her: he loves her spirit, her wit, her passion. He remember late nights writhing in pleasure, midday walks through the apple orchard, eating lunch on the hood of a rover Mira was working on—he briefly thinks that maybe sides aren't all that definitive until he hears soldiers shouting, calling him back to reality. Were this any other day, he'd scold his soldiers for being so loud, but now he's grateful for the warning.
Mira raises her brows, silently ask him what he's going to do. She's told him that it was real, that he wasn't her tool. All that's left to be decided is whether he'll take her word for it and what he'll do.
He crushes their lips together and she returns the gesture with just as much force. They've shared many kisses, but none like this. This is desperate, this is frightened, this is goodbye.
Guzman lifts himself up and drags her up with him. They're still in their lip lock, but time is of the essence, so they break apart. There is no leaning on the other, no holding each other.
“Go, Mira.”
She nods. “They're close. They'll know you let me go.”
The notion of being interrogated by Taylor and Wash is a terrifying one. They may be his friends, but they're also his superiors and are fiercely, obsessively protective of Terra Nova. If he were a better person, if he used his mind and not his emotions, he would be following their example right now.
“Punch me.” he decides. “Make it good.”
Mira doesn't need to be told twice, understands what this will achieve. Bloody him up, make it look like there was a fight. She swings her fist at his jaw and he feels a bolt of pain spread through his face. Well, she isn't holding back.
Closer. The soldiers are closer.
She has to leave, now.
“Go.” he orders, shoving her with more force than strictly necessary. He is, after all, still angry with her. Real or not, she's betrayed him and the colony.
Mira presses her lips to his one last time before ducking and swiping her gun of the ground. She runs a few feet before she stops and turns swiftly on her heel. Her pistol is raised and next thing he knows, he's dropping to the ground in shock, searing hot pain in his shoulder.
“Mira!” he growls and then swears at the universes.
He thinks he hears her apologize, but isn't sure. She's gone, running away from Terra Nova. Running from him.
“Lieutenant!” It's one of the younger soldiers, Reynolds, he thinks. One of Wash's boys. “Sir, how badly are you injured?”
Guzman forces himself up and puts a glower on his face. “I'll live.”
He turns his glower toward the jungle, into witch Mira has disappeared.
“Damn her.”
Damn it all.