So...are you ready to kill me yet? Don't answer that. Good times ahead...well, not really, but sort of.

Disclaimer: Wish I did, but I don't, thanks for the reminder.


"Coffee, y'all!" Bobby called as he entered the WitSec office early, having managed around three hours of sleep, and feeling almost worse for it. "We're gonna need a lot of coffee," he muttered to himself. He needed at least a venti double shot espresso before he could even think about functioning at the top of his game, and he knew that his marshal friends would need something as well, and Mary would need at least four before he could talk to her.

The expressions Sara, Eleanor, and Stan's faces stopped him in his tracks.

"What?" he asked, setting the coffees on the nearest table and heading towards them.

"We got something while you were gone," Sara said quietly, her eyes slightly red from fatigue, her face lined with worry.

"That's good, right?" Bobby asked, looking between the three of them. "We got a break, this is good!"

She shook her head and waved a fax, then read it. "The analysis of the coffee droplets found on Marshall's table indicated a combination of synthetic cysteine-cysteine chemokine ligand 21 and flunitrazepam. That's a modified pain receptor mixed with a roofie, and the potency of each was increased by being added to coffee, so it took effect almost immediately. He would have been entirely incapacitated and able to feel everything at ten times its normal pain." She swallowed hard and set the paper down.

Bobby swore softly under his breath. No wonder everyone looked worried. "Has anyone called Mary?"

Sara looked up at Stan, who cleared his throat. "We've been trying to call Mary ever since we received word three hours ago."

A cold feeling flared in Bobby's stomach. No way in hell would Mary have not answered a call from them with Marshall missing. "No," he breathed.

Stan nodded. "Eleanor went to her house and just got back."

"No one was home," Eleanor said softly, a worried furrow appearing between her brows. "Her car isn't there. It looks like she never went home last night."

Bobby turned on his heel and walked quickly out.

"Where are you going, Detective?" Stan called, more out of curiosity than anything else.

"Marshall's. Mary would have gone to Marshall's."

He heard Stan swear and bang something, but didn't turn to look. If his bad feeling turned out to be true, someone was kicking at a beehive. And they would be on the receiving end of a very nasty sort of hell when they were caught.

Stan paced back and forth in his office, his cell phone in hand. Bobby had left almost twenty minutes ago and he had heard nothing. Out his window, he could see Eleanor pretending to be busy at her computer and Sara with her head down on her arms at her improvised desk. He doubted she was actually sleeping.

His phone vibrated in his grasp and he jerked it up, answering as it reached his ear. "Go," he ordered.

"Her car's here, but no sign of her. She slept on the couch, but she's gone. I got nothing, Stan, no tire tracks, no signs of struggle, no footprints, not even a damn timeline. Not a damn thing."

Stan dropped his phone momentarily as he closed his eyes tightly. "Dammit!" he bellowed punching his office door. He made a fist against it, and rested his forehead on it, then brought his phone back up. "Bobby, we gotta pull out all the stops."

"Already on it. My guys are going over every inch of this place again, with a magnifying glass, if they have to. I'll light fires under as many butts as I have to to get this done."

"I'll have Sara call our Seattle office and get them to do the same. No way are these isolated incidents. Jason, Marshall, now Mary…somebody wants all of them. Badly. I'll contact the FBI agent in charge of Jason's case, see if anything shakes out."

"Got it. Want me to head back over there?"

Stan sighed and looked out of the window, where he could see Eleanor and Sara already hard at work, both on the phone. "Why don't you go on over to your office and work from there for the time being? If we need you, we'll call."

"Sounds good. Let's catch these bastards."

"You got it." He hung up and exited his office to give his staff the news, but they were still busy.

"I don't care what you have to do, Tom, this is an emergency. Failure is not an option, and if you can't take care of this, then I cannot be held responsible for what your wife will or will not hear from me. And if I have to go over your head, then I will. George and I are old friends, but that might not work out very well for you." Eleanor smiled tightly and cocked her head. "That's what I thought. Okay, here's what I need…"

Stan looked over at Sara, who seemed to have matured with 5 years of experience in the last 36 hours, and earned a share of Mary's toughness in the process.

"Go over everything, you hear me? Every. Thing. Every block he walked, every bus he took, every laundromat he used, every gas station he bought a freaking slushie at. Show his picture, he's been using different names for some reason, so check anything you can find for Jason Garritt, Goring, or Griffin. But the picture will be the key. …No, I am not joking, Darren! We have a missing witness, and two missing inspectors. TWO! And these guys are good, Darren, the best. You think I would call you right now and ask you to do something as a joke? Go to hell!" She moved to hang up the phone, but then she heard Darren protesting, and with a sigh, brought the phone back to her ear. "What?...Thank you." She dropped the phone and looked up at Stan. "They're on it."

He smiled slightly. "I can tell."

"I've got people looking around in Gary for the mob connection. And I've updated the requests for records to include known aliases," Eleanor chimed in from her desk.

"Excellent. I take it you both heard everything?" They nodded, and he sighed. "Okay, I think we should go over everything again. So what have we got so far?"


The darkness was painful. It was the first thing she became aware of. But darkness should not cause pain. Darkness hid, protected, soothed. Darkness was easy and simple, a stark contrast to the harsh complexity of light. Light could burn, blind, and hurt. Light was piercing. Light was sharp. Light was painful. Darkness was tranquil. Darkness was gentle. Darkness did not hurt. And yet here she was, knowing only darkness, and feeling nothing but pain.

Her eyes ached, vainly trying to see, to discover, to assess. It was so dark, not even a sliver of light was to be had. She could see nothing, couldn't even get her bearings. Her mind, foggy and disoriented, struggled to work clearly. She gradually became aware of her breathing, raspy, harsh, not natural. Her head throbbed, pulsing in time with her heart, thudding a painful beat throughout her entire being.

The heat, the air, the very environment, whatever it was, was oppressive. It closed in on her, never ceasing in its attack, never giving her a respite. Panic started to swell within her, making her head swim even more.

Where was she? What had happened? Why was she in darkness?

She forced herself to take a few slow, deep breaths, and slowly the ability to think was restored. Gingerly, she made an evaluation of what she could. There was something around her eyes, which would explain the darkness, she hoped. She tried to open her eyes, but the band was so tight, she could not. Her arms and shoulders were bare, meaning her sleeves must have ripped at some point. She didn't remember that. She was restrained, tied by the hands, bound behind her around a wooden post. It chafed her arms, and the rope burned against her wrists. The knot seemed secure, but she thought she would be able to loosen it, if given the time. Her legs were sore and heavy, but unbound, and stretched out before her. She was sitting on a hard floor, cement she assumed, based on the pain now shooting into her pelvic bone. That would probably put her in a cellar or a basement.

She swallowed down another wave of panic and fear. Not another one, please God, not another one.

She shifted restlessly, and heard a rustling from somewhere to her right. She jerked her head, following the sound, now approaching. Heavy footsteps crunching against what sounded like sand on the concrete came closer and her heart sped up its frantic pace.

"Ah, Mary, you seem to be coming around." The amused voice was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it. The footsteps were in front of her now, pacing slightly. "I wondered how long it would take you to wake up. I can only guess at these things, abductions have never really been in my repertoire."

She licked her cracked and dry lips and spoke carefully. "Yeah, well, it seems to be going all right on my end."

The man chuckled, and it was not a pleasing sound. "I can tell. You still have that infallible sense of humor, don't you?"

"Never leave home without it. What do you want?"

"Oh, don't be afraid, Mary. I've invited you here for a good reason, and it will all come out in time. I confess, I am a little disappointed that you hadn't already figured me out."

"Me too." Her mind raced, struggling to piece together everything that had occurred over the last few days, but she couldn't come up with any good explanations. No obvious connections, just Jason's disappearance, then Marshall's, and now hers. What tied them all together? Or were they connected?

The man shifted again, off to her right. "It's been a long time, Mary. I've been waiting for just the right moment to see you again. Much has changed since our last meeting. You are just as exquisite as ever, though. The years have been very kind to you."

Dear God, was this guy flirting with her? That was uncomfortable. But she attempted to use what he was saying to figure him out.

"I wondered how much you knew about what happened. I don't think it would have happened the way it did if you had been involved, which led me to believe that you were mostly unaware. I apologize for that, but it was entirely out of my control."

What was he talking about? What happened? Who was he? How did they know each other? She twisted her wrists, trying to loosen the rope. She needed to get out of here, she needed to find Marshall.

"But I am back in control now, Mary. I am calling all of the shots. And I think that it is time that we should end your suspense now, don't you? Let's see if I have managed to surprise you for once, shall we?"

Not waiting for her reply, he moved. Suddenly there were hands at the back of her head, releasing the knot, and then….

Blinding light.

More painful than the dark.

Light was worse than darkness.

Through the pain, blinking away the sudden tears, Mary could barely see something—no, someone—lying on the dirty floor across the room. Squinting still against the brightness of the room, her eyes struggled to adjust. Pieces came to her in rapid succession.

A man, unconscious, badly bruised, bloodied, and bound. He had a black cloth tied tightly around his eyes, and his breathing was barely noticeable. His shirt was shredded, practically nothing on him at all, and his jeans were filthy, as if he'd been down here a long time. Tall, long limbs, narrow torso, chiseled features…

She gasped in horror as she made out the identity of her fellow captive.

"Marshall!"

And from behind her, she heard cold laughter, and felt cool fingers on her bare shoulder. "Surprise."


Duh duh DUHHHHHH. Sorry, couldn't resist. Things get pretty scary after this for a bit, but I PROMISE the end is worth it. Reviews make me happy, which means more goodies for the rest of you!