Emma wasn't sure how long she walked that evening. She wasn't even sure where she was headed. All she knew was that the last three months had completely rocked her world, and she needed time to process everything that had happened.

But it was time that she didn't have.

Gold had run out of patience.

Her father might have been a stranger to her, but he was right. Gold was going to continue sending men after her, trying to eliminate the threat she posed until her body was six feet under. He would do to her what he'd done to Walsh, only Emma knew that she wouldn't be shown as much mercy as her fiancé had been given.

And she couldn't let that happen.

She wouldn't let that happen to anyone else ever again, if she could help it.

As a plan began to form in the back of her mind, Emma took a moment to take stock of where she was before hailing a cab to head to the nearest Target she could find. To make everything work she was going to need supplies, and without Isaac to turn to for help, Target was her next best option.

When she had everything she needed tucked into a couple of grocery bags, Emma headed for the nearest sleazy motel she could find and checked in under one of the aliases that her father had given to her. If David felt comfortable using them, it meant they were clean. But Emma knew they wouldn't stay that way for long, so she needed to work fast.

After applying a box of home hair coloring to her blonde locks, she used the new cellphone she'd purchased to book herself onto the next flight to Russia. It wouldn't leave for a few hours, which would give her just enough time to work on the identification documents she had. Her father's forger had been good. To the naked eye, there wasn't a difference between the passport she had in her hands or the one locked up in a safe back at her house.

But it wasn't quite good enough.

Gold had contacts in every industry all over the country. Emma knew that her picture would already be hanging in every airport in North America, which meant that she needed to do everything she could to change her physical appearance.

It started with the dye in her hair. Emma washed it out in the shower, watching as the water sluiced down over her body like a bloody river until it faded back to a clear stream. When she was out, she ran a rough towel over her new flame-red tresses before pulling out the scissors she'd also purchased. The first cut wasn't the neatest she'd ever made, but it wouldn't matter too much. She could style out the uneven edges before she left the motel.

By the time she'd finished cutting, Emma's bright red hair now rested just above her shoulders, instead of around the tops of her breasts. A pair of colored contacts that changed her eyes from a bluish-green to a dark brown were the final touches to what she hoped would be the perfect disguise.

With her appearance taken care of, Emma slipped on a pair of the jeans she'd bought and a graphic T-shirt before she made her way to a photo booth she'd seen on her shopping trip, to take a few new headshots. Replacing images on passports was always risky. Some of the check-in and security staff were far more observant than their colleagues, but at least Gold had given her plenty of practice at doing so in the past. A craft knife, a carefully positioned plastic sleeve, a hot iron, and a towel could go a long way in the forgery business.

When Emma strode into LAX a few hours later it was with all of the confidence and swagger that came from her new persona.

"Next, please?" the clerk called out.

She took a few steps forward until she was stood behind the desk and greeted the other woman with a cheery, "Hey," as Emma pulled out all of her documents and slid them over the counter for inspection.

"Hi. How many bags will you be checking today?" the clerk asked politely.

Emma pointed to the oversized tote hanging from her shoulder and said, "just this one." She gave the woman a moment to tap something into the keyboard in front of her before she pushed herself up onto her toes to peer down at the other woman's hands. "I love that color. Where did you get them done?"

It took a moment for the clerk on the other side of the desk to realize what she was being asked, but when she did, she raised her left hand to flatten it on top of the counter, proudly showing off her manicure. "I um… I actually did it myself."

"No way! That looks so professional. What brands do you use? Are you fully trained?" Emma lifted the other woman's hand into her own to get a better look at the bright red polish covering each of her fingernails.

"No, I don't have the time to take those courses. And it's an O.P.I one. I swear by them. They're the best on the market."

"I always thought they were a little pricey." Emma pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head so that the attendant could check her passport image against her face, before she added, "but if it looks this good on you, I think I'm gonna need to give them a chance. How many coats did you use?"

"Two, but you need a good base and top coat to go with it." The clerk turned her attention back to her computer for a moment before she closed Emma's passport and pushed all of her documentation back across the desk. "Have a nice flight, Miss. Ward."

"Thank you. You enjoy your day," Emma called back, as she turned to head for the gate her plane was leaving from.

It was amazing what a little flattery could achieve when you were trying to sneak out of the country.

The flight to Russia was the worst Emma had ever been on. Because she'd booked so late, she was left with the only available seat on the plane, squished between someone who smelled like they hadn't showered all week and another passenger who not only snored but also drooled in her sleep. It didn't matter much, though. Emma knew that she wouldn't be able to sleep with everything racing through her mind, so she used the twelve hours it took to get to Khimki to research everything that she would need for when the plane finally landed.

Emma wasn't planning to stay in the country long. She knew what would happen to her if she got caught. Death would be an easier escape than what the Russians would likely do when they found out who she was. But she also knew that she wouldn't be able to return to Los Angeles without something to keep Gold off her back.

Something to show him that she could be trusted once more.

Something that only Alexi Mikhailov would be able to provide her with.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.