Wyatt

"What do you mean she's gone?" Wyatt demanded. He felt like the bottom had just dropped out of his world. It seemed just like Wyatt's luck that once he could finally muster the courage to commit to some fleeting idea of possibilities, the woman he loved decided to vanish without a trace.

Wait…the woman he loved?

"I mean she's been taken, Wyatt. That much is clear, but by who we have no idea." Agent Christopher explained. "When Lucy didn't answer our calls I went to investigate myself, only to find her house empty and a shattered tea mug littering the floor."

"You think there was some sort of struggle?" Wyatt surmised, already flicking through possible scenarios in his mind. But it was hard to be objective at the idea of someone attacking Lucy, and he found himself unable to focus.

"It's possible, but there's something else. We tested the liquid from the broken cup, just as a precaution, and found it was laced with Rohypnol." Christopher added gravely.

"She was drugged." Wyatt gathered, his voice shaking with rage. The very thought of anyone doing something so heinous was just a little more than he could stand. A strained silence was the best he could manage without completely losing his self-control.

"Who do you think took her?" Rufus asked quietly, just as affected by the news of Lucy's disappearance. The sound of his teammate's voice seemed to drag Wyatt back to reality.

"Do you think it was Rittenhouse? Would her father have sent someone for her?" He wondered aloud. The idea made his heart ache with equal parts fear and pity for their historian, for all that she'd suffered since this entire thing started. From losing her sister to finding out she was even more entrenched with Rittenhouse than she realized, time travel was steadily tearing apart the only life she'd ever known. And now she was missing.

"What about Flynn?" Rufus speculated. "He's always been kind of obsessed with Lucy, and it wouldn't be the first time he's tried to kidnap her."

If Wyatt thought he was uncomfortable before, he wasn't prepared for the surge of outrage evoked by the thought of her being with Flynn. It almost made being kidnapped by Rittenhouse seem like a better alternative. He didn't know much about the nefarious clandestine organization other than that they allegedly killed Flynn's family and had been threatening Rufus over his recordings of their missions. No doubt such an organization would do anything but play fair, but their true intentions were still something of a mystery. Flynn on the other hand, was an opponent with whom Wyatt was extremely familiar. One who had no restraint, and nothing to lose. If Lucy was with him, there was no telling what he had planned, but Wyatt was sure it could be nothing good. He was also sure he would kill Flynn where he stood if he so much as hurt a single hair on Lucy's head. And he was almost startled at his own protective instinct; it had been a while since he felt that way about someone. Almost six years, to be exact.

"There's no way to be sure who took her until we have more information." Christopher determined, breaking Wyatt's murderous train of thought. "But while we know-"

Her voice was suddenly cut off by the vibrations of Rufus' phone, the sound of the Star Wars Imperial March erupting obnoxiously from his back pocket.

Despite the seriousness of the current situation Wyatt still had to suppress the urge to laugh. "That's the ringtone you picked for work calls, Rufus?"

"Don't act like you're surprised." Rufus rolled his eyes before bringing the phone to his ear and turning aside to take the call in private.

Even Agent Christopher looked faintly amused, revealing a brief lapse in her normally stern composure.

"I guess Rufus was right." Christopher said abruptly.

Wyatt's eyes flicked up to her steady brown gaze. "Right about what?"

She smiled at him fondly. "You really have started to 'gel as a team', as he put it."

He was a bit taken aback by the unguarded tenderness in her tone, as their relationship had been strictly professional up until now. All business.

You need to eliminate Garcia Flynn. She had said. The command had been repeated like a mantra, practically the only understanding that had been really necessary between them regarding the mission and the end result. It was just another assignment after all.

Except, it wasn't really. At least, not anymore. Wyatt was technically a fugitive of the U.S. government by now, Christopher had been dismissed from the case, and Rufus was now being openly coerced by Rittenhouse. The dividing lines between the right and wrong sides were blurrier than ever, as it was hard to tell whether Flynn or Rittenhouse was the deadlier threat in the bigger picture of history. But in the midst of the chaos, there was one certainty, and it was that after everything they had been through, they could trust each other without a shred of doubt. But there was someone missing without whom the team would never be truly whole.

"It's not a team without her." He replied, the words coming out harsher than he intended. But Christopher only gave him a knowing look, her eyes softening.

"We'll get her back." She assured. "I promise."

Promises didn't mean much to Wyatt at the moment, considering nobody had any idea where Lucy was or what had happened to her. But he appreciated the sentiment all the same. It was nice to have people in his corner, people he could really depend on. And for the first time since they'd broken the news about Lucy's disappearance he felt like there might actually be some hope of getting her back. He would find her. He had to.

"That was Mason Industries." Rufus said, turning back to the group and lowering his phone from his ear.

"Or Rittenhouse, to be more precise." Christopher corrected somberly.

Wyatt and Rufus' heads snapped up in unison. "What do you mean?"

Christopher heaved a heavy sigh. It seemed she was always fated the be the bearer of bad news. "The guys in control of Mason industries? They're Rittenhouse."

Rufus, in near predictable fashion, bugged his eyes in shock as his jaw dropped to the floor. "What? Are you serious? What are we going to do?"

"Rufus, it's fine." Wyatt tried to pacify him, a little shocked at his own sense of inward calm. He figured he had lost the amount of energy needed to be surprised at this point, since Rittenhouse was becoming more and more brazen by the day.

"No, it's not fine. Jiya is there right now. This is Rittenhouse we're talking about, they could kill her! And what am I supposed to do, just go into work and pretend like everything is normal?"

"Yes." Wyatt replied easily. "That's exactly what you're going to do".

Rufus could only stare at him in disbelief as he struggled to control his obvious panic. "How are you so calm right now?"

"Because I've been through a lot in the last couple of days." Wyatt answered, the conviction in his voice growing. "And I fought it for a long time. And you can call it fate, or God, or the force, but I am meant to do something. I am meant to protect this team. You and Lucy. I see that now. And I will."

It was a sore punch to his gut, and his pride, that he had done such a monumentally terrible job of protecting them up to this point. Sure, he tossed a few bullets here and there, saved their asses a handful of times from the standard bad guys. But that was just work, just tactical competence. Looking out for the safety of an asset was something entirely different than going out of your way to protect someone you actually cared about. Someone you loved. Again, Lucy's pale face appeared in his mind, as if she were standing there with him now, smiling at him reassuringly. He had failed her once, and now she had paid the price. He wouldn't make the same mistake again.

Meanwhile, Rufus and Christopher were staring at him like he was a soap box speaker with a few loose screws.

"You do realize you sound like a crazy person, right?" Rufus teased, but there was no bite in his tone. He was glad to see Wyatt coming back to himself.

"He sounds like-" Agent Christopher began before stopping abruptly, Lucy's name hanging in the air like an unspoken prayer. It was almost as if saying her name out loud forced them to acknowledge that she wasn't there beside them.

"We're going to get her back." Wyatt repeated Christopher's earlier vow. And the more he said it, the more he believed it.

Agent Christopher cleared her throat, turning her attention to Rufus. "So, what did Mason want? Did Flynn jump?"

Evidently, Christopher wasn't being kept in the loop anymore concerning the latest developments at Mason Industries since her untimely dismissal by Agent Neville. It seemed her and Wyatt were both outsiders to the operation now.

"No, he didn't jump." Rufus responded slowly. "But they said they figured out a way to take him out for good, and that this would be our last mission."

"Well that's not cryptic at all." Wyatt huffed. "I wonder what they're up to."

"It doesn't matter what they have planned." Christopher cut in. "We can't let Rittenhouse have the lifeboat. Who knows what they'll do with it. If what Anthony told Lucy was true, they could be even worse than Flynn."

The truth of Christopher's words settled over them in silence as they all internally mulled over their options. They were caught between a rock and a hard place, forced to choose between the greater of two evils in an impossible situation. Honorable as Flynn's intentions may have been in hoping to bring back his deceased family, he was still on an unchecked rampage through time, changing the fabric of reality as they now knew it. Whether it was Flynn or Rittenhouse, someone had to stand in their way. Someone had to protect history.

"We have to steal back the lifeboat." Wyatt resolved. It seemed like the only solution. There was no other choice.

"Right, because you'll definitely have more luck stealing it a second time around." Rufus grumbled, and this time he wasn't able to keep the sharpness from his voice. Wyatt and Agent Christopher both looked at him pointedly in a form of silent agreement, as they were already on the same page.

"Well I'm not going to be the one stealing it this time, buddy." Wyatt smirked as Rufus' face sagged in what could only be described as an absolutely flabbergasted expression. It took a few moments for him to collect himself.

Rufus couldn't help but stutter nervously. "So, what? You want me to steal the lifeboat again, all by myself? How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

A plan was already starting to take shape in Wyatt's mind, and he knew Rufus wasn't going to like it one bit. "Here's what we're going to do…"


Lucy

By her count, this was Lucy's third trip to the 1930's, and she was finding that the third time around really wasn't the charm. Quite the opposite in fact. It didn't have the allure and glamour of the 1920's jazz age, nor the jovial, domestic appeal of the later 1940's. No, the 1930's, ridden with unemployment, social inequality, and a devastated stock market, was not a fun time at all. Especially when one was accompanied by an unpredictable, moody time travelling terrorist who wouldn't give you more than an arm's length of space. He was practically glued to her, but she supposed that was because he was intimately familiar with her ability to slip through his fingers. Needless to say, opportunities for escape had been little to none.

They were currently making their way steadily but purposefully through the bustling streets of depression-era Chicago, and the sight of so much poverty and suffering almost made Lucy want to go back to the city's more prosperous years during the World's Columbian exposition. Almost, but not quite. Nothing in the world was worth a second encounter with the Murder Castle, or its owner.

The sky was a characteristic overcast grey, much reflecting the dismal impression of the people milling about the alleyways, looking hungry, desperate, and defeated. She hated to admit that she identified with the feeling, although the source of her oppression was less the result of poorly timed economic downturn and more to do with the giant of a man currently blackmailing her into submission.

She sighed internally at the absurd nature of her situation. Will my life ever be normal again?

Although she had the sinking feeling she already knew the answer to that question.

The pair wove their way through the downtrodden crowds arm in arm, much to Lucy's chagrin, with Karl keeping pace three steps behind them, obscured by the masses of people but never entirely out of sight. He was the only one of Flynn's lackeys who's name she actually knew, which would have given him a slightly more human impression if it weren't for the way he was constantly leering at her. Lucy struggled to suppress a shudder at the thought of being left alone with him, should the need arise for Flynn to make a solo excursion.

Noticing her shaking, Flynn's eyes flicked to hers as they waited to cross another street. "Are you cold?" He murmured.

"Like you care." She rebuffed him, refusing to meet his gaze as she pulled her shawl more tightly around her.

Of all the clothes he could have stolen for her, he couldn't have picked something warmer? The unforgivable wind whipped through the material of her dress and sent shivers down her spine. Although, despite not being practical, she did have to admit (however begrudgingly) that it was one of her favorite period outfits thus far. Thankfully, Flynn hadn't insisted on matching colors this time around, so she had been spared another burgundy ensemble. This dress was a rich dark green, made of some sort of chiffon-like material that flattered her pale features nicely. Not to mention it also did wonders for her figure, as it gathered smartly just under her bust and sported the historically trendy butterfly sleeves, giving her a slender, wispy sort of air.

Come to think of it, if he wasn't holding her against her will she might have found his keen fashion sense oddly charming. But as fate would have it, she wasn't in the position nor the state of mind to be paying him any compliments.

He brushed off her rejection with ease, simply adjusting his fedora and straightening his coat before taking her arm and setting off again. He seemed to accept that he had her right where he wanted her, and that she was obligated to help him, but that she would never truly trust him. He supposed having her by his side was enough, however he had to force her to be there.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Flynn asked her under his breath, his grip involuntarily tightening on her arm as he fought to stay close to her amongst the advancing horde of morning workers.

"As sure as I can be." Lucy replied irritably, struggling to keep up with his pace.

"He might not take us seriously." Flynn warned.

"He will when I tell him what will happen if he doesn't." Lucy insisted, exceedingly annoyed by Flynn's lack of faith in her. He was forcing her to be accomplice to his scheme. The least he could do was just let her do her job without all the micromanaging.

"As if he's just going to take your word for it." He scoffed disbelievingly.

"Well I suppose that's why we got both the ledger and the letter as proof. What more do you want?"

Before Flynn could offer what would definitely have been yet another snarky reply, the pair found themselves standing before the glamorous double doors of the Lexington Hotel, otherwise known as the primary residence of the infamous Al Capone.

Lucy felt like she was about to walk onto the frontlines of a figurative battle, except their ammunition was less in the form of guns (although Flynn had those too) and more in the way of incriminating documents. The moment they had landed in 1931 Flynn already knew what he would need in order to get into Al Capone's good graces, planning on stealing the worst of the evidence needed to indict him for tax evasion. What he didn't know was how to obtain said evidence, but that was what Lucy was for. She hated that she knew exactly where the Treasury Department archives were and despaired at how unbelievably easy it had been to break in unnoticed. Flynn was understandably pleased with Lucy as his newfound asset, and he was using her for all she was worth. Hating herself for what she was doing, Lucy had considered refusing to cooperate on more than one occasion. But there wasn't really any other choice with Flynn threatening to kill Rufus and Wyatt on sight should she refuse. Although the threat was groundless without her teammates at his disposal, there was no telling when they would inevitably turn up. The mothership's CPU was linked to the Lifeboat, so they would chase after Flynn like they always did, and she wasn't about to let Flynn lead them right into another trap.

"You ready for this?" Flynn asked, breaking her concentration. He was peering down at her intently, strands of brown hair falling into his eyes.

"As ready as I'll ever be to meet a notoriously ruthless gangster who's probably going to try to kill us." She admitted, unable to stop her nerves from tightening her throat as she spoke. Obviously, this was not a historical icon she had ever pictured herself meeting, and for good reason.

Flynn simply nodded. "Just stay close."

Her brow furrowed at his concern for her, but she said nothing as he opened the door for her in a mock-gentleman like manner before following her inside, Karl falling in line behind them. They were greeted by the warm light of the overhanging chandeliers, casting the extravagant lobby in a pleasant glow. Although Lucy had never been to the Lexington hotel in person, she wasn't at all surprised by what she saw, as it corroborated everything she'd ever read about the crime boss they were about to meet. Lavish leather sofas lined the walls of the hall, along with expensive looking artworks and detailed wallpaper reaching all the way up to the ceiling. There was a large concierge desk situated against the left side of the space, and dozens of people were coming and going in every direction. Finally, at the far end of the room she was entertained by the sight of an indoor mini-golf course spread across the marble tile floor. However, all traces of amusement were gone when she saw exactly who was getting their putter in line for a shot.

There before her, Al Capone was playing indoor mini-golf.

Her breath nearly caught in her throat at the sight of him, but luckily it was Flynn's turn to take the reins on their operation. Flynn's eyes landed on Karl, a clear message in his eyes as he left Lucy under his watch before stepping away to speak with one of Capone's nearby lieutenants. Lucy watched him walk away and almost missed his presence as Karl sidled up beside her, unnervingly close. He didn't go so far as to touch her, but she could see the pleasure he took in watching her discomfort. Between him and Flynn she was getting pretty fed up with all the masculine posturing and knowing smirks. Hopefully she wouldn't have to endure said taunting for much longer. If she could only find an opening, a chance to slip away unnoticed. But that opportunity hadn't presented itself just yet.

After a few moments of hushed bickering between Flynn and Capone's cohort, the latter finally gave in and gestured for Flynn to follow him to the back. Flynn promptly followed with Lucy and Karl close behind, the three of them stopping just at the edge of the artificial green turf where Capone's private game was taking place. The other man hesitantly approached his boss, who had just knocked his golf ball into the final hole with a gentle swing. The lieutenant rested his hand on the other man's shoulder before leaning in and whispering something about a mysterious man claiming to have something worth Capone's immediate attention.

At first Capone simply bent over and plucked his golf ball out of the hole without acknowledging them, rolling it between his fingers as he weighed whether or not he cared to hear what the newcomers had to say. Finally, he turned to face them, his legendary scars on full display as he stared at Flynn with thinly veiled scrutiny. He didn't even seem to notice Karl and Lucy in the background.

"Frankie says you have something of vital interest to me." Capone said, feigning indifference as he sized Flynn up with his cold, stony eyes.

Flynn didn't waste any time. "These tax ledgers were seized in a raid on one of your establishments a few years ago, key evidence in the tax evasion case they're building against you."

It was odd hearing Flynn recite the same words she'd said to him while explaining the crucial nature of the tax ledgers in Al Capone's trial. She almost felt like a professor again, listening to a student attempting to reconstruct the key components of an important historical event. It was a little jarring to say the least.

Capone eyed Flynn suspiciously a moment longer before moving to examine the tax ledger Flynn had provided, leafing through the pages impassively. He was impossible to read.

"Where'd you get these?" Capone asked, not bothering to lift his eyes.

"Post office believe it or not. Treasury department keeps a poorly guarded file room there, Mr. Capone." Flynn answered matter-of-factly as he dared to address Capone by name, a gesture which was not lost on the standoffish gangster.

The temperature in the room seemed to instantly drop ten degrees lower the moment Capone raised his gaze to level with Flynn's. He looked like a sleeping animal that had just been unwittingly provoked.

"That's your big gift?" He said disdainfully, and Lucy felt her blood go cold. "As if they're gonna get me for tax evasion. Get them outta here!"

Thrown into a panic as Capone's goons started to advance on them, the words erupted from Lucy's mouth before she could think better of it. "We also have a letter from your accountant, Mr. Mattingly. He made some very scandalous accusations."

The henchmen halted in their approach and even Al Capone looked a little startled as all eyes turned on Lucy.

"And who are you?" Capone asked shrewdly, his eyes raking over her with no shame. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, almost unsure of how to answer. She and Flynn hadn't really discussed any aliases or names in an effort to keep their stories straight. She was about to label herself as Flynn's sister when he unexpectedly beat her to the punch.

"This is my wife, Lucy." Flynn clarified smoothly, not bothered by Lucy's predictable flinch at the insinuation of them being married. His eyes locked with hers across the room and he fixed her with a look as if to say, do you know what you're doing?

She honestly couldn't say whether or not she did but tried to affect the confidence of someone who knew exactly what she was talking about. She kept her gaze level with Flynn's and gave a nearly imperceptible nod of her head, willing him to go along with her strategy with nothing more than her eyes.

He seemed to get the message.

Clearing his throat, Flynn slowly reached into his coat pocket before producing an unsealed envelope and presenting it silently to Capone, who took it with a look of actual curiosity. It appeared that they had finally peaked his interest. Or, more accurately, that Lucy had.

Capone tore open the envelope and scanned it quickly, his eyes roving over the paper as his expression darkened with understanding. The reality of the situation was finally starting to set in for him.

"With this evidence, believe me, you'll be going to prison." Lucy asserted, a confident edge to her voice. Al Capone only nodded in agreement before turning to his lieutenant.

"Pay Mr. Mattingly a visit. Make sure he can't write any more letters." He ordered. Lucy inwardly cringed knowing she had just played a part in sentencing an innocent man to probable death, all for testifying against the most feared crime boss in Chicago. Meanwhile, Flynn didn't seem too troubled by the idea of the accountant's imminent demise. In fact, as she flicked her eyes to him again, Lucy might have guessed he actually looked proud. It was not a feeling that sat well with her.

"I guess I owe you a debt of gratitude." Capone conceded, turning his attention back to Flynn and Lucy, his gaze lingering on the latter. "Let me know if there's anything I can do for you."

Flynn smiled, as if those were just the words he'd been waiting to hear. "I'm sure we can work something out."