The guards exchanged looks. "An American brown bear, maybe," one of the men mumbled, but the other was frowning.

"It's not easier to let you through when we're going to be yelled over it," he said grumpily, "but the one who looks like he's never had a--er, excuse me, ma'am." He lapsed into embarrassed silence.

"The one dressed like a funeral director did say it'd be best if we didn't bother them over the radio," his companion finished for him.

"Please," Gabriel said softly, earnestly, meeting the first man's gaze. He was the one with the wife and children. He indicated Guild's family. "Their husband and daddy are in there. This might be their last chance to talk to him."

Another exchange of looks, but this time the guard to whom Gabe had directed his words took a little while to pull his gaze from the woman's tear-stained face and the way Missy hugged her teddy-bear. After an incredulous moment the foul-mouthed guard threw up his hands. "Okay, fine! But it's your hide I'm throwing to the bears if they get mad."

Still grumbling, he stood aside, while his not-exactly-relieved-looking companion smiled encouragingly at Guild's family, waving them through.

"Thank you," Gabriel said, heartfelt and thankful and with a smile that made the apprehension in the man's face dissolve, as they moved past.