Chapter 1

Alec Hardison sat chained to a chair in a damp and musty warehouse just south of Boston. Blood dripped from a deep cut on his upper arm, staining the entire sleeve russet-brown as it dried. A grungy thug lifted Alec's head to look at the well-dressed man in front of him. His black suit was tailored to his body, and reeked of wealth. "One more chance, Mr. Hardison. Where is she?"

"I don't know," Alec muttered. The thug punched him in the side, and he doubled over, struggling to breathe. Another powerful fist met his cheek, and Alec felt warm blood dripping down his face. His head throbbed, and he was gasping for breath. "I'm not…going to tell….you anything."

"So you do know something?" A Cheshire-cat like grin spread over the man's face. "Well good. That actually makes this worthwhile. I don't normally like to get my hands dirty, but under the circumstances…" He picked up a pair of pliers and stalked to where Alec sat, panting from lack of air and pain. "I shouldn't have to warn you that this might hurt…" He positioned the pliers carefully around Hardison's fingernail.

"You're never going to touch her."

The man didn't say a word, but yanked out the fingernail in one fluid motion. The pain would have been strong and intense for any other person, but Hardison could barely feel it through the haze of agony that his brain was already experiencing. He felt the pressure of a second nail being pulled out, and began to lose consciousness. Suddenly, his chair tipped over, and her heard grunts coming from the man as punches landed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a body fall to the floor, and he heard two sets of footsteps running out of the building. A head appeared above him, a sweet voice calling his name. "Alec? Alec, are you alright?" He couldn't believe his eyes. Even in the fog of unconsciousness, he knew that face.

"Amy…" he whispered, his voice tired and scratchy. "You need to go, Amy. You're not safe…" before he could finish, he was claimed by the artic stillness of sleep.

Parker spun on a wheeled desk chair as she watched Hardison sleeping on the couch at HQ. She never turned all the way around, stopping before she completely lost sight of him and then turning the other way. She didn't want to let him go again, and even though she knew it was irrational, she couldn't stand to turn her back on him, in case he disappeared entirely. The door opened, and Nate, Eliot, and Sophie walked in the door. "Is he awake yet?" Nate asked. Parker shook her head, still spinning.

They all settled around the couch, watching their injured comrade. Eliot had bandaged him up, and the white sterility stood in cold contrast against his dark skin, a constant reminder of the mysterious kidnapping. "Did you guys figure anything out?" Parker asked quietly. They all shook their heads, still puzzled.

"We were just lucky that we found him when we did," Eliot said. "Another fifteen minutes and…" None of them really wanted to think about what could have happened. "Wait, he's waking up."

Hardison slowly opened his eyes, watching the heads clustered above him slowly turn into the faces of his team. "Parker?" She had leaped off her chair to kneel by him.

"Right here, Alec. I'm here." Her face was filled with anguish, and immediately Hardison felt guilt course through his body.

"What happened?" He asked, not wanting to believe what he saw.

"Once we figured out where you were, Eliot took out the muscle, but Quiroga, the man who was interrogating you, got away. Sophie took care of you while Nate and I cased the rest of the building for any more people."

Hardison began to sit up, but a strike of pain in his head lashed him to the couch. "Whoa there, Hardison, Careful!" Eliot said, reaching out to a couple of pills on the coffee table. "Take these. You probably have a pretty nasty concussion, and your fingers will hurt for a while, but you should be fine." Hardison swallowed the capsules with difficulty, and lay back down.

Nate stood and walked around the back of the couch. "Why were you there, Alec? Why are you involved with Quiroga?" Alec only shook his head, closing his eyes. "Dammit, Hardison, he could come back! Why didn't you tell us? What is going on?"

"Nate, calm down!" Parker said urgently. "Just let him rest. He's safe here."

"Is he?" Nate thundered. It was obvious that he had had a few drinks again. "Are we? We can't know, because we don't know a damn thing about what's going on! You need to tell us if you're going to go after a mob boss. I don't know if you realize, but you're part of something here. We could have helped you." His voice broke a little, revealing how much he really cared for the safety of his team. "We could have protected you."

Still, Hardison didn't say a word. Nate walked away, slamming his fist on the kitchen counter before opening his liquor cabinet to pour himself a drink. "Who's Amy?" Sophie asked quietly. Nate almost didn't hear her.

"Amy?" He asked questioningly.

Sophie looked at the group, whose faces all bore the same puzzled look. She continued. "Listen, before you passed out, you saw me, and you called me Amy. Who's Amy?"

Hardison sighed. "Amy…is my sister."