Shit. Callie O'Malley said under her breath as she ended the phone call. What the hell do they think they are doing? Callie put the phone down and grabbed her jacket from the coat rack. She picked up her keys and ran to the elevator with a newspaper under her arm. He better not hurt them. She pushed the elevator button for the ground floor. Callie looked at her reflection in the elevator door. How could she be related to such a monster? She was smart, compassionate and cared about everyone and everything. That was part of the reason she had become a surgeon. She felt like her role in life was to help people and fix them when they were broken. She was nothing like the monster her father was. While she was one of the country's leading surgeons and Seattle's best orthopedic surgeon, her father was on the FBI's list of wanted criminals. Carlos Torres was one of the most notorious mob bosses in Miami and his role in life was to cause pain and break people. Carlos Torres had made Callie's life a living hell. He had indirectly forced her to change her last name in order to stay protected from the media and his men. (Why she chose O'Malley was beyond her but she liked the ring it gave.) She was also forced to leave her childhood home and move as far away as she possible could from him. She looked once more at her reflection, "I am nothing like him. I am not a Torres anymore. I am Nothing. Like. Him." she said to herself.
The elevator doors opened and she walked into the lobby. She searched the room in hopes of finding who she was looking for. Her eyes landed on a tall man with dark hair wearing a suite standing next to the mailboxes. Callie walked over to him and handed him the news article. Mark Solan took it and shook his head. "What is this? Is it him?" She nodded. The news paper was dated with the day's date and it showed a picture of what appeared to be Carlos Torres and his men. Under the picture was an article titled: Torres's Whereabouts Known, Crimes Exposed. "The FBI does not even know where he is. Who wrote this?" Mark looked at Callie with questioning eyes. He had been apart of the FBI for more then six years and was recently assigned to the Torres case. When Mark took the case he was worried that Callie would never forgive him for trying to apprehend her father, but Callie told him that Carlos Torres was not her father but rather a monster. She wanted to see him behind bars as much as Mark and the director of the FBI, Richard Webber, did.
Mark turned the paper over in his hands once more looking for the name of the author of the article. Callie put a hand on his and pointed to the name he was looking for. A. Robbins. "Who is A. Robbins? And how does he know so much about Torres?" Mark said. Callie winced when she heard her former surname said aloud. "I called the newspaper publication office and they said that they could not give me the full name. But then I may have threatened them a little..." "Callie! I knew you were a badass, but threatening doesn't sound like you." Mark said with a playful grin. "Shut up Mark. This is serious. Anyway, after I... you know, did what I had to do, they gave me the name. He is actually a she Mark. The journalist's name is Arizona Robbins and I think she is in danger," Callie said as she looked at the article again. "No one can write something like this about my fath... um Torres and live to write a follow up piece." Mark nodded and took out his phone. "What are you doing?" Callie whispered. "We have to find her. Now."
A half hour later, Callie was sitting in one of the lobby chairs while Mark finished the phone call. "I had my guys check out her apartment." Callie looked up at him with hopeful eyes. "Robbins wasn't there but her roommate was. She said Robbins left for a journalistic type endeavor over seven hours ago and was supposed to be back at the apartment before six." Callie looked at her watch. It was almost nine o'clock. "Crap Mark. What if he has already gotten to her?" Callie looked panicked. "We have to find her." She didn't know why she felt so strongly about saving this person. All she knew was that she couldn't let another person get hurt because of her father. There was a beep from Mark's phone and a text message popped up onto the screen. He picked it up. "The roommate told Shepard and Hunt the address of where Arizona was heading. Its not to far from here. Give me your keys and I'll drive. Maybe we can retrace the path and see if it leads to her. I'm sure she has just run out of gas or something." "Yeah. I hope so." Callie said as she headed to the car.
The clock ticked as the seconds passed. She had know idea what time it was, but the clock kept ticking. Tick. Tick. Tick. The woman opened her eyes and winced in pain. Where am I? she thought. She could smell exhaust and smoke from where she sat in the driver's seat of her car. She could feel a warm sticky liquid fall down her cheek and pool around her neck. What happened? She began to move but her body was not responding. Something is wrong. Why can't I remember where I am or what I was doing? She was fighting hard to keep her eyes open but she was looming on the edge of unconsciousness. Tick. Tick. Where the hell was that noise coming from? She moved just her eyes to look down at her wrists but she saw no watch. The slight eye movement caused her to feel exhausted. Her eyes fluttered open and closed and her breathing became shallow. She finally surrendered to her own exhaustion and shut her eyes completely. Her mind drifted into oblivion until she heard it. A whisper. Or was it a scream? Her ears were playing tricks on her and she could not comprehend what it was. Then she felt the shattered glass from the window hit her limp body. A woman's voice was yelling at her: "You have to get out of the car now. There is a bomb in the back seat. Arizona Robbins. Get. Out. Now." That was the last thing she heard before she completely lost consciousness.
