Massive thanks to anmodo for betaing this chapter. Also thanks to everyone that has reviewed – it really helps me to write.

Chapter 1

Over a year earlier

"So my friends, shall we continue or shall we all it quits for the night?" Danny smirked as he counted his winnings.

"You've cleaned me out," Sam said as she chucked the cards on the table. "Martin, are you-"

"Sorry Sam I would if I could and I would've shared the money I won back from the evil, thieving, cheating Danny Taylor," Martin said lightheartedly, as he too chucked his cards on to the table.

"Well m'lady, Martin, it has been a pleasure. I would love to take this time to express my gratitude-" Danny said ducking a ball of paper that Sam threw at him. "Now Sam that's not lady-like behaviour."

"Shut up, or I will so tell Jack about the time you cheated," Sam counted as she playfully hit his arm.

"Well I'm going to have to call it a night," Martin said, laughing at Sam and Danny's playful exchange. "Night kids."

"Night Martin, see you Monday," Danny said, forcing back a laugh.

"Night Martin, we've gotta team up win all that money that Danny stole from us," Sam said as she planted another playful punch on Danny's arm.

"I did not steal; I skillfully won," Danny countered. "As much as I would like to stand here and be abused by you, Sam, I am also going to head home."

"Skilfully won?" Sam said rolling her eyes. "I guess that's what bank thieves are going to say from now on. 'No I didn't steal; I merely skilfully won all of that money.' I better head home as well; I don't think the FBI would take kindly to one of their offices being turned into a casino."

Danny bit back a laugh as he swung his bag over his shoulder and followed Sam to the elevators. "So what are you going to do with the rest of your weekend?"

"Nothing. Pure nothing," Sam said with a smile. "I'm going to sleep in, lie in bed all day. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know – depends if Emma is back or not," Danny said, referring to his fiancé. "She's got some business deal to close in LA," he explained.

"She's not overly happy with that job, is she?" Sam suggested as she slid into the elevator next to him.

"It's not that she hates it. She just gets bored. I mean she's up in the company and been headhunted by several other companies – but, well I guess that she's become disillusioned by the whole thing," Danny sighed as ran a hand through his hair. "I suggested that she should apply for the FBI. She's definitely FBI material – but I don't know."

"Now that's a scary thought, Danny Taylor and Emma Collins – the FBI super couple," Sam joked.

"I knew it. I knew that you thought I was brilliant," Danny replied flashing a dazzling smile.

"You? No. Emma? Yes," Sam joked as she stepped out into the car lot. She looked across the lot to see Martin almost yelling into his cell phone.

"Hey, man, is everything alright," Danny asked in concern as Martin ended the call.

"Yeah – just my father. He wants me to go an event in DC, for what he calls something that would benefit my career," Martin said sarcastically. "More like an event that would benefit his career."

"Don't worry about it, man. I'm sure that a case will come up. And if one doesn't, we can always make one up," Danny reassured.

"Thanks," Martin said hanging his head. "I guess I am going to head back and think of an excuse for why I can't go to his 'wonderful career-beneficial event'."

"Good luck," Danny said, digging his hands into his pockets. "Crap," he swore gently.

"Problems?" Sam asked.

"Not really, I just left my cell phone in the office," Danny said as he turned towards the elevator. "See you guys on Monday. I'm just going to pop up and get my cell phone."

"Idiot," Martin joked. "See you Monday, then."

Danny exchanged goodbyes with his friends before he walked towards the office. He ran his hand through his spiky, untamed hair as he walked back up towards the office. Thinking he heard someone calling his name, he spun around. Seeing no one, he shook his head and walked to his desk, picking up his cell phone.

"Agent Taylor."

Spinning around again, he saw an official looking agent standing by the whiteboard. From his ID, Danny could tell that he was from the DC office. He couldn't figure out why an official looking FBI agent from DC would want to talk to him on a Saturday night.

"Yes," Danny answered cautiously.

"Agent Taylor, my name is Agent Reeves. I work directly with the Director and Deputy Director of the FBI," he reeled off.

"Good for you," Danny responded and then continued, "Okay, sorry, I am just wondering why you – an agent who works directly with Director and Deputy Director, wants to talk with me at 11pm on Saturday night," Danny said as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against his desk.

"Let me explain," Agent Reeves started. "The Director would like to talk to you."

"Director Wilson would like to talk to me," Danny choked. "I am sorry did you say the Director of the FBI wanted to talk to me? Why?"

"I am not at liberty to divulge that information," Agent Reeves stated officially. "If you would come with me, the Director would like to talk to you."

"Okay," Danny stammered as he found himself following Agent Reeves towards the elevators although he didn't know how. A few moments later he found himself standing outside an office - his heart was racing. He forced himself to take slow, deep breaths, to calm down.

Agent Reeves stepped out of the office. "The Director will now see you, Agent Taylor."

Danny took a deep breath and closed his eyes. As he stepped into the room, he looked around – quickly identifying the Director. He also noted three other official looking men.

"Agent Taylor, please take a seat," the Director said as he stepped front and shook Danny's hand.

"Urr, thanks. I mean, thank you, sir," Danny stammered as he somehow managed to shake the Director's hand and sit down.

"Now I guess you're wondering why myself and the Deputy Director of the CIA want to talk to you on a Saturday nigh?" Director Wilson asked.

"U-mm, yes sir, that question did enter my head," Danny replied nervously

"Of course it did. Allow me to introduce you to everyone else. There is Deputy Director Roberts of the CIA, Agent Hutchison also of the CIA and Agent Reeves who you have met," Director Wilson said indicating to each person in turn.

"Sir, I mean no disrespect, but why I am here?" Danny asked still confused.

"Agent Taylor, are you patriot?" Agent Hutchison asked speaking up.

"Yes sir," Danny replied, slightly irritated.

"Good," Agent Hutchison continued. "Now the reason we need you is that you fit a certain profile for a convert operation that we are running in Cuba."

"Profile?" Danny asked, finding himself smiling slightly and shaking his head. "Okay. Fine. I accept that, and I am willing to do the job – but surely there are other people in one of the many agencies that fit the same profile?"

"Yes, there are others that fit that profile, but none of them have your experience and expertise," Agent Hutchison said as he stood and walked around the small carpeted office. "I have read your file, Agent Taylor, and it is very impressive."

"Thanks. What exactly does this convert op involve?" Danny asked nervously.

"There is a National Liberation Army (ELN) cell in Cuba and our intelligence indicates that the ELN is planning to move its operations on to US soil," Agent Hutchison stated. "So we need you infiltrate the cell, so we can find out their next move." He tossed the file at Danny. "There is all of our latest intelligence on the ELN. I will understand if you don't want to do this and we are not forcing you. It's totally your choice."

Flicking through the file, he scanned the photos of bombings, murders, and assassinations. Instantly, he knew he had to do. He had a moral conscious and he could not let this happen on American soil. He knew Emma would understand. He knew the team would understand and somehow he knew that Rafi would eventually understand why.

"I will do it," Danny sighed as he closed his eyes.

"Are you sure? I really don't want to you to think that you have to," Director Wilson started.

"Sir, you didn't force me, but I have to do it. There is no way I can let this happen in America," Danny said as he held up a photo of a recent car bomb. "When do I go?"

"Tonight."

"What?" Danny exclaimed. "But I have to tell people, I need to sort things out."

"I'm sorry, Agent Taylor, but you can't. It's the reason that myself and Director Wilson are recruiting you," Deputy Director Roberts explained. "Apart from the people in this room, there are three other people that know about this op – and for your safety, it has to stay that way."

"My boss – Jack Malone is one of those three people – right?" Danny asked desperately. "I work missing persons, and it's been a really shitty year for the unit – especially Jack. I mean if any of us are five minutes late, he's already pacing. "

"We will take care of it, but he can't know," Director Wilson reassured. "Are you still sure that you want to so this? You can still back out if you want to."

Danny looked down at one of the photos again. He noticed for the first time that one of the bombing victims was a small child. He clenched his jaw – morally he had no choice, he had to do it. "Look, I would like my fiancé and the team to know, but I understand that they can't," he responded, raking his hands through his hair. "It's okay. I will do it."

"Thank you. Your country thanks you as well," Director Wilson replied quietly. "If there was any other way, you know we would have taken it. But this was only opinion. We cannot let these bastards attack our country."

"I know," Danny said quietly as he stared at his feet. "I just, I j-just want someone to know – please can you tell Jack, just so someone knows."

"I am really sorry but I can't. If I could I would tell him, but-" Director Wilson stressed.

"Sir, you have to tell them something. My team works missing persons. If I don't turn up for work on Monday, I will become their latest case," Danny stated. "Look, just, you have to tell them something. Please sir."

"We will think of something to tell them. That is not your concern," Agent Hutchison cut in.

"I think it is, it's my family you are talking about," Danny said cutting in. "If it was your family, you would want them to know at least something. I mean I don't expect you to tell them details of mission but at least tell them that I am going to be away for a while, otherwise my team will investigate."

"Are you threatening me?" Agent Hutchison sneered, leaning forward.

"No, I am just telling you facts. I am not CIA; I'm not even undercover. I work missing persons. That is my job and that is my team's job," Danny replied coldly.

"Fine, but as I told you before, we will take care of it," Agent Hutchison sneered eyeballing Danny. "Now we have to prepare you for this mission, if you will come with me. I am going to be your only source of contact, your handler."

"Okay," Danny responded nervously. He suddenly began to feel tense – he didn't want Hutchison to be his handler. He already didn't trust the man and now he would have to trust him with his life. He found himself following the arrogant figure of Agent Hutchison towards the elevators. "So what exactly I'm going to being doing?" Danny asked as they stepped into elevator.

"Not here," Agent Hutchison said coldly, his cold eyes not leaving the elevator doors.

Danny followed Agent Hutchison across the parking lot. Feeling an icily cold wind whip around him, he hugged his coat closer to his body. He didn't know if it was physical or psychological. He was leaving behind a life he loved. A life that he never thought it was possible during his violent and depressing childhood years. He had everything and he was probably throwing it away but he didn't believe he had a choice.

Agent Hutchison reached into his deep coat pockets and pulled out a tranquilizing injection. He quickly moved his hand up and depressed the plunger releasing the drug into Danny's bloodstream. As Danny fell, he quickly opened the car door and let Danny fall heavily into it. It wasn't really necessary to drug Danny, but it gave him an enormous feeling of power. He loved the feeling of control. He climbed into the car, quickly glancing at in the rear view mirror at the unconscious Danny and snorted – yes power and control made him feel alive.

Agent Hutchison randomly drove through the city, so in the unlikely event Danny regained consciousness he would have no idea where he was – therefore there would be very little chance of escape. Eventually, he pulled up outside an airfield and glanced back at the still unconscious Danny. He laughed again. Maybe he had given too much tranquilizer to the unconscious FBI agent – but what did he care? As long as Taylor was alive and on that plane, he didn't give a damn. He didn't care did Danny would wake up with a headache from hell or that Danny might spend the next few hours throwing up from the ill affects of the drug. Just as long as Taylor was alive and on that plane. Opening the door and roughly pulled Danny's arms, he stifled a laugh as Danny's limp, unconscious form hit the ground hard. He quickly dragged Danny into the hanger and out of sight. Finding a bucket of ice water in the corner of hanger, he poured the contents over the unconscious FBI agent.

"Wake up," Agent Hutchison yelled as he kicked Danny in the ribs several times. "Come on, you lazy shit, wake up. We have work to do."

Danny groaned as he slowly and reluctantly opened his eyes. He felt as though someone had taken a sledgehammer to his head. He quickly closed his eyes again – shutting out the painful light that was streaming from the light bulb that swung above them. He tried to put the pieces of his fragmented mind together. He looked up at Agent Hutchison and felt his stomach rebel. He didn't know if this was because he had just remember what he had agreed to or was it the affects of whatever he had been drugged with – probably both. Closing his eyes tightly, he emptied the contents of his stomach on to the hard concrete floor.

"Once you have finished, I want you to read this and follow the instructions. Do you think you can do that?" Agent Hutchison sneered as he threw a file at Danny's feet.

"Yeah," Danny gasped.

Finally, he felt it was safe to sit up. Danny shivered slightly and hugged his coat tighter as the cool air bit into him. Leaning back on the crate in the aircraft hanger, he closed his eyes. His fingers trembled as he tried to start the letters that he had been told to write. Pulling the slightly battered photograph out of his wallet, he stroked her face. Feeling a single tear roll down his face as he thought of the time he would have to spend away from her, it broke his heart just thinking about it. Danny closed his eyes again as he felt more tears sting his eyes. Morally, he had to do this mission – but his heart wasn't in it. His heart was in New York with Emma and his real job. He hoped that they would still be there once he completed the mission – if he was still alive. Still with will trembling hands, he forced himself to start writing the hardest letters of his life. Seven years ago, if this mission had come up he would've jumped at the opportunity. But now he had roots. He had a job that he loved, he was getting on with his brother, people cared about him and he had met the woman of his dreams. It was so unfair that it was happening now, but morally he knew he had to do the mission.

Danny watched as his hand moved across the paper as if it was not his. Some how -although he would never know how - he finished the three letters, sealing them in separate envelopes. He looked down at the final single blank sheet of paper and took a breath. He didn't know what was harder – the three letters that he had just written or the letter he was about to write. He shook his head. He had always thought that he was too young to write a will and it was not as if he much in the way of processions. Agent Hutchison had barked 'no lawyers' at him. He had nearly laughed at the irony – technically he was a lawyer, having passed his bar exam some months previously. He could remember staring at the envelope containing his results, having completely forgot that he had taken the exam. Driving in to an ambush and having your friend nearly die on you days after the bar exam, will do that to a person. But he didn't have the time, the precessions nor did he want to write a will. He would ask Jack – a man he both respected and trust, to tell the people he loved that he was dead – not wanting them to hear it from anyone else, especially not the emotionless bastard, Agent Hutchison.

"You done yet?" Agent Hutchison yelled across the hanger.

Danny looked up briefly, before answering. "I won't be long, just gotta finish up," Danny replied quickly. He closed his eyes and thought for a moment – how was he going to write this letter. He took a breath and started to write.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Emma Collins dropped her keys on the kitchen table before kicking off her painful heels, her power heels to go with her power suit as her fiancé called them. Her work clothes gave her the look of one those hardcore, power hungry feminist bitches but that couldn't be farther from the truth. She collapsed on the couch and stretched out her 5'6" naturally toned figure. Unlike her co-workers, her body wasn't the product of $200 an hour personal trainers and eating the latest diet.

Feeling hungry, she wandered over to the fridge, smiling when she saw the post-it note attached to it.

Baby,

Just been called out on a case, so don't know when I will be home. Hope the business deal wasn't too boring. Okay-- I know it was. Did you miss me, as much as I missed you? Well better go b4 Jack murders me. Love you.

D

She closed her eyes and leant back against the wall, feeling suddenly very alone. Her work colleagues had called Danny her bit of rough and told her she would grow out of him. But they didn't understand that he was her saviour. She wasn't like her colleagues; she hated her job, but she happened to be particularly good at it. However much she hated it and the lifestyle that went with it, she couldn't bring herself to leave it.

She sighed, the last few days hadn't been a bitch – they had just been long. It was a Sunday night and all she wanted was to fall asleep in Danny's arms. But that wasn't to be the case – Danny was working a case. Grabbing a can of soda, she collapsed on the couch again. Picking up the remote she started to flick through the channels. After finding nothing on, she threw down the remote. She twirled her cell phone in her fingers and speed dialled Danny. She massaged her temples as her call went through to voice mail. She found a small smile as she listened to Danny's voice.

"Hey baby, just called to say I got back and the business deal was boring as hell. I hope the case is going okay, umm," Emma said feeling her voice breaking with emotion. Forcing herself smile as if it would make a difference to the tone of her voice. "Anyway give me a call when you get this. I love you."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Blinking her eyes several times, Emma frowned as the morning sun streamed through her window. She glanced at her watch, and swore gently as she noticed the time – she was due at work in 20 minutes. Throwing on some clothes as she left her apartment, she checked her voicemail – disappointed that Danny hadn't phoned back. Running towards her office, she couldn't help but feel concerned – Danny always phoned her back. She knew if it was anything serious, Jack would've phoned her. Slightly out of breath she sat at her desk and dialled Danny's cell followed by his work, feeling her concern growing when she got no answer from both of them. Taking breath she closed her eyes and dialled another number.

"Fitzgerald."

"Hey, Martin. It's Emma."

"Emsy, how are you?" Martin said smiling as he spoke to one of his oldest childhood friends.

"Don't call me that, Marty. But I'm great. I'll be better when I speak to Danny. Is he there?" Emma started hesitantly.

"No. Not here yet," Martin replied, feeling his concern growing. "I am sure Danny's fine."

"I-I can't get hold of him and he's not at his apartment and Rafi hasn't seen him either," Emma replied, forcing herself not to panic.

"Okay," Martin said. He looked around the office before his eyes rested on the whiteboard. He hoped that what he was thinking wouldn't happen. "What do you want to do?"

"I…I…think I should file a missing persons report."