Chapter 1

Emily was awoken by the buzzing emanating from the loud vibrations of her phone on the nightstand next to her bed. Half awake, she reached over and, without seeing who it was, answered it. "Hello?" she groaned, still waking up.

"You are in very big trouble, missy. I told you as soon as you landed you had to call me so I knew you got there safe but when you didn't, my mind went to worst case scenario," she heard from the other end of the line. "Garcia," she tried interrupting the lecture she was getting from her friend.

"Garcia," she groaned again, this time a little louder. Penelope continued on her lecture, ignoring Emily. "Garcia!" Emily snapped, this time getting her friend's attention. "There was some commotion at the airport, that's why I didn't call. We had a case literally from the minute I got off the plane and by the time we caught the guy I was so tired Clyde brought me to my apartment and I fell asleep almost immediately. I don't even know what time it is, never mind the day," she explained.

"Oh. You mean flat love," Garcia teased in her best British accent. "Well, it's nine o'clock in the morning here so that means it's about two o'clock in the afternoon there," she responded. Emily looked at her watch, then realized that she hadn't changed it yet, and looked at the time on her phone. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not supposed to be in the office today," Emily remarked in a slightly sarcastic tone.

Emily heard a conversation in the background and then heard Garcia say, "Hey, I've gotta go, we have a case but I'll call you later okay?" "Alright, I'll talk to you later. Give Sergio a snuggle for me," Emily replied. "Will do, talk to you soon. Bye," Garcia ended the call.

Emily sat in bed for a minute after the call ended and then decided to get up and take a shower. She rummaged through her luggage, looking for a towel, a change of clothes, and some soap, shampoo, and conditioner. Once she found what she was looking for, she slung the towel over her shoulder and headed for the bathroom. She turned on the water and began getting undressed. As she stripped off her pajamas, she took stock of the aches and pains she felt. She stepped into the shower and thought about how wonderful the hot, flowing water felt on her stiff muscles and it then dawned on her she hadn't had a shower since she left the States.

As she lathered up her body, her fingers grazed the scar she tried so hard to forget existed. She looked down at the four-leafed clover that had been branded on her chest just about a year ago. Seeing that every day was a constant reminder of Ian Doyle. A constant reminder of the hell he put her through when he broke out of prison and came after her and her team for revenge.

She stood under the water, enjoying every minute of it and then when she was satisfied with her shower, she rinsed the conditioner out of her hair, turned the water off, and reached for her towel. She stepped out of the enclosure and into the steam-filled room. She dried herself off and then proceeded to yank on a clean pair of sweatpants. When she reached for her t-shirt, she realized she hadn't grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste. She opened the bathroom door and headed for her luggage to look for them both. On her way back to the bathroom, she checked her phone and saw some missed calls and a voicemail.

"Oh, great," she muttered as she walked back into the bathroom. While she brushed her teeth, she listened to the message on her phone. It was from Jack who was informing her of another case they had just received. There had been three robberies all within the last few weeks that seem to have something in common- all of them had to do with private collections of artwork, where something stolen from them.

When she finished brushing her teeth, she dialed Jack's number. She heard the rings on the other line followed by a familiar British voice. "Well good afternoon, sleepyhead," Jack said jokingly. "Did you get my message about the case?" he asked. "Yes, I just did," she replied. "I told the team to be here in a half hour so we can get started on it," he told her. "That sounds like a plan. I'll be there in thirty," she responded.

After she hung up, Emily, now realized what she was wearing, went to look for something appropriate to wear to the office. "I should really just put this stuff away instead of rummaging through these damn bags every five seconds," she grumbled to herself, annoyed by the number of times she'd had to go through her suitcases in the last twenty-four hours.

Once she found something suitable to wear, she quickly changed, brushed her hair, put on some makeup, and headed for the door. She took about three steps away from her apartment when she realized she'd forgotten the keys for her new car that Clyde had told her he was going to drop off for her and had done so while she was sleeping. She turned around and put the key in the lock, opened the door just enough so she could grab the keys from the hook and closed and locked the door once again.

She got into the elevator and headed for the garage of the building where her new car was parked. It took her a few minutes to find where the spot marked for her apartment was. Once she found it, she unlocked the car and climbed into it. It was a big SUV, like the ones she was used to driving in Quantico, except for the fact that it was a light silver color instead of black. Clyde, knowing her, had picked out a vehicle he knew she was comfortable driving and would like, rather than something he knew she would hate.

"Wow, I haven't driven this way in a while. I hope I still remember their rules of the road," she thought to herself as she began backing her car out of the spot. Slowly but surely, Emily made it to the office without managing to drive on what's considered the right side of the road in the U.S. Once she parked her car in the spot marked "Chief," she got out of the car and headed for the building. She made her way to the elevators, hit the "up" button and took a step back. "Lifts, they call them lifts," she muttered reminding herself to use British slang and not American English. The elevator to her left dinged and the doors slid open.

Emily got into the cabin and pressed the appropriate floor button. The doors closed and it began to make a humming noise as it began to rise. The elevator stopped a few times on the way up, but then made its way to the floor Emily was going to. When the doors opened, she stepped out into the hall. She made her way through the hustle and bustle of agents working at the surrounding desks. After she reached the other side of the office, she walked into the small room with a round table where the rest of the team was sitting around, waiting for her. "Sorry, I'm late, it's going to take me a bit to get reacclimated to driving London streets again," she joked as she took off her jacket and found her place at the table.

"What've we got?" Emily asked as she looked at the screen in front of them. "There have been several robberies of artwork from private collections. The most recent incident happened in Birmingham, in an area called Harborne to be more specific. The first one happened in Edinburgh, Scotland, and the second in Dublin, Ireland. The authorities notified us because the robberies crossed over into our territory. They think they are all connected because of the pieces that have gone missing," Jack explained.

"Also, during this last robbery, the husband was assaulted by one of the robbers. He's going to be okay, but they sent him to the hospital. He had some cuts and bruises and had to get stitches," he added.

"No one was hurt during any of the other robberies?" Charlie, who was sitting at the other end of the table, asked. "No, that's the one thing that's different. Neither of the other robberies had this happen. The owners of the home were home during all three, but this was the only one that there was an interaction between the intruders and the homeowners. Both the others were in and out without anyone knowing until the next morning," Jack responded.

"When do we head out?" Emily asked. "They're expecting us by this evening," he answered. "Let's get a move on then. In the cars in fifteen," she told the team. Almost all at once, everyone in the room was up and heading for their desks to get their go bags.

Once everyone had gathered their things, they all headed for the cars and prepared for their two and a half-hour car ride.