A/N: This update is dedicated to all my reviewers… because I'm determined to keep you guessing! My right arm has been in a lot of pain this week which is why I've been unable to update. (And why Colby will be facing an injured arm in my next book.) I'll try and update both this and end my other book by the end of the weekend. Thanks for being so patient and for reviewing. I'd love to know what you think is the next stop for the book!

## Break ##

Ian Edgerton glared at the man behind him. "I told you not to push me around," he barked, his arms crossed, his attention off of Don and Colby for just a minute. Don glanced at Colby, who nodded briefly back. If they could just jump the two men while they were distracted, while they were fighting, then they might have a chance to get free. Don and Colby had talked last night. Even if Ian was undercover, the operation needed stopped; it had gone in too deep.

"But I thought you said…," The second man responded, clearly confused. It was at that moment Don and Colby took advantage of the situation. Don plowed into Ian, knocking him down. Colby, a bit hurt but still not letting up, plowed into the second man. He was knocked unconscious as Colby attempted to untangle his legs from the man's death-vise grip.

Ian and Don were in a death-grip for Ian's pistol when Don suddenly saw someone coming from the shadows of the hallway. He knew instantly that in the shape he and Colby were in, they'd be outnumbered and out gunned, and quite possibly killed. Just as Colby was about to turn and help Don, Don yelled, "Run, Colby! Get out of here before they get you! If you stay here, we're as good as dead!"

Colby wanted to help Don, but he knew that if he did, they were both dead. He forced himself to leave his boss behind as he turned and sped off, looking for the nearest pay phone. A mile later, he found one, sitting in all of its glory aside an almost abandoned gas station. He punched in the numbers 9-1-1, not bothering with calling LAPD, fearing that the pay phone would reject him for not having enough money.

"This is the 9-1-1 operator. How can I help you?"

"We have an agent down and we need medical assistance and back-up at 22-25 Weston Road," Colby responded, panting heavily. "I need back-up, too. I'm about a mile away from there and I'm also injured."

"Back-up and EMTS are on the way. Can I get names?"

"Special Agent Granger and Special Agent Eppes," Colby responded, uneasy feelings in his gut growing. "I need transferred to Special Agent Megan Reeves now."

## - ## Break ##

Megan picked up the phone on its first ring. "Special Agent Megan Reeves," she answered, hastily walking down the hallway. She motioned towards Billy to follow her.

"It's Colby, Megan." The voice sounded hoarse and tired – and beautiful. It was the first time Megan had heard from Colby in nearly a month and a half.

She wanted to stop dead in her tracks and listen to the conversation but she knew she had to walk faster. "Talk to me, Colby." She swallowed hard, knowing that she wouldn't like what she was about to hear.

"Ian let down his guard for about a second. Don and I jumped him. Don's still back with him – I'm at a pay phone somewhere. I guess dispatch is tracing it."

"Colby, are you alright?"

"I don't feel so good."

Megan winced. That didn't sound good. Colby admitting he didn't feel so good probably meant that he'd been shot. "Colby, hang on for me, okay?" she demanded, wincing as she made herself move even faster.

"I'm not that close to death yet." She heard some movement in the background, and Colby's strangled explanation of "shit!" before she heard someone chuckling into the phone and hanging up.

"What's going on?" Billy demanded as he made his stride faster.

"Colby's in even more trouble than he was," Megan responded grimly as she slid into her car and started the ignition.

## - ##

Billy Cooper stared at the crime scene. Blood dotted the pay phone, but Colby was nowhere to be found. Officers were crawling through the surrounding area, trying to get a lead, but Billy suspected that he was gone. "Hey, Megan," he responded, putting on gloves and touching a blue sling, "Look at this."

"What's that?" she asked, wincing when she saw that it was covered in blood.

"It's got Colby's name on it. David said his arm was injured, right? Maybe they gave him this for it."

"Well, that would explain why Colby ditched it, right? To run faster. But why give him first aid?"

"Don probably gave him first aid," Billy guessed. He paused as he made his way behind the phone booth. "Oh, yeah. Colby was definitely here."

"Damn," Megan muttered as she looked at the bloody, sloppy handwriting on the back of the payphone booth. It was definitely Colby's handwriting; the 'b' permanently backward. "That's the one letter he can never get straight."

"Oh, there's our favorite agent," Billy drawled sarcastically as he watched John Sheets get out of the car. "Maybe you should handle this one, Megan. I might just kill him if he gets too close."

John Sheets approached, his stance nervous. It had been ever since Megan had pissed him off in the FBI office. "What do we know?" he questioned.

Megan and Billy glanced at each other. Before they could decide what to say, John glanced at the back of the pay phone booth. "There's no way that's Granger's writing. This must have been a prank call. It's way too sloppy," he responded.

John was on the floor in an instant, knocked away from the wreckage. "His hand is injured, he's been held captive for a month, and he has dyslexia. That is his writing," Billy Cooper demanded, his face looming over John as he clutched the man's shirt. "You really want to mess this up further? You want to lead us the wrong direction, get your buddy Ian free?"

"Whoa, easy, Billy," Megan responded, pulling Billy off of the irate ICE agent. She turned to face the man who pushed himself up. "We'll work on finding Ian and Colby. Why don't you just go back to the FBI office and sit tight."

John Sheets just shook his head and pulled out his pistol. "I really can't let you do that," he responded with a big grin. "Because you might just give away everything I've been working for."