Rachel moaned as she rubbed her throbbing cheek. She looked at the blood on her hand then up at the intruder and asked, "What do you want?" She surprised herself with the harshness of her voice.

"Just a few answers before I kill you," he growled.

"K-kill?" she stuttered.

"You didn't really think they wouldn't find out, did you?" he asked.

"Find out about what? Who is 'they'?" Rachel asked nervously as she slowly rose to her feet.

"Stalling won't help you, Ms. Ezhno. Your employer, or rather, former employer, is very unhappy with your performance. Who were you reporting to?"

Rachel's head was still spinning from the blow and now her mind was drowning in a flood of panic. How the hell did they find out? I just gave the full report to the FBI's Mortgage Fraud division two days before I quit. The government does not work that fast!

"I do not want to spend all day on this, Ms. Ezhno, so let's…"

"Oh please, call me Rachel. If you're going to kill me, there's really no need to maintain any kind of formality, is there?"

"Well, I am a professional; however, since you offered, I have no objections, Rachel."

Shuddering at the sight of his creepy grin, she asked, "And what should I call you?"

"Mr. Sparrow."

First a finch and now a sparrow. Is there an ornithology convention in town?

"I'll just call you 'Captain Jack,' " she said with a smirk.

"Whatever," he said as he drew an impressive looking knife that reminded Rachel of something she'd seen in a medieval fantasy film. She decided against complimenting him for his choice of weaponry.

Rachel had been slowly moving away from the door during their brief conversation, but all she had managed to do was back herself into a corner.

Great job, Rach. Now what's the plan? She glanced around the room for something to use for protection. There was nothing available and her minimal self-defense skills were no match for a man wielding a knife.

"Rachel, tell me who you told about the mortgage fraud. I promise I'll make your death as painless as possible if you just stop stalling and tell me what I want to know."

Rachel wasn't sure how much time had passed since her conversation with Finch had ended. She was terrified. Captain Jack could easily kill the unprepared ambulance attendants. She was also fairly certain that Reese would be too weak to defend himself. Just keep him talking.

"Honestly, I don't know what you are talking about," Rachel pleaded.

Captain Jack's patience had run out.

"They found the spyware on your desktop and the camera in the stuffed animal. Oh, and the microphone too. You were very well equipped for your mission."

Rachel, utterly confused, just stood there staring at him. She opened her mouth to refute his accusations but nothing came out. She tried again.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Camera? Spyware? I don't even…"

"The items were there. I saw the camera and microphone. Some IT guy tried to explain the spyware but I shut him up quickly."

"You killed the IT guy?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I wasn't paid to kill him," he explained as he brought the knife up close for inspection. He wiped a speck of dust off the hilt and took a step towards her. "Now that I see you aren't going to tell me anything…"

"Stop!" she yelled. I don't know what you're talking about! I just learned how to tweet six months ago. I still haven't figured out Instagram or Tumblr. Why would I spy on myself? That makes no sense!"

"We're done here," Captain Jack said as he moved in for the kill.

Two very loud bangs made Rachel jump. She watched as Captain Jack sank to the ground. She looked up and saw Reese, leaning against the doorway, with a gun pointed at her. Startled and unable to say a word, she collapsed.

Reese sighed and shook his head, as he walked past her and into the kitchen. He grabbed a kitchen towel and some ice and returned to her. As he wiped away the blood from her cheek, he nudged her gently and told her everything was going to be alright. Why do they always faint, he wondered.

When he was unable to wake her after a few minutes, he rolled her onto her back thinking that would help revive her. His eyes grew wide and panic set it. He looked over at the dead man then quickly turned back to Rachel. "No!" he cried out as he put pressure on the chest wound. "Finch, help me!" he pleaded desperately. "Rachel, don't you dare die on me! FINCH!"

Finch, frozen with panic, glared at the monitors. He was unable to grasp the current situation. He'd been running around the library getting ready to meet Reese at the clinic while everything unfolded. For him, the beginning was Reese's bloodcurdling cry for help.

Finch snapped out of his trance just moments later when he saw the medics arrive on Rachel's floor. He texted them instructions to immediately enter the apartment but told them nothing else. Their obvious surprise quickly melted away as a teary-eyed Reese explained the situation. As they worked diligently to stabilize Rachel, Reese collapsed into a coughing spell.

Finch called Detective Fusco. Of course, he only provided Fusco with basic information, which didn't sit well with the detective. Finch immediately regretted his terse command to Fusco to do his own job, but he was too concerned with the condition of both Reese and Rachel to worry about providing details.

After stabilizing Rachel, one of the medics hooked up oxygen for Reese and escorted him to the waiting ambulance. He then returned to help his partner load Rachel onto their only gurney. As they wheeled her to the ambulance, Finch grabbed his gear and Bear and raced to the clinic.

Fusco arrived at Rachel's apartment without fanfare. No nosy neighbors asking questions. No super or manager around either. If there hadn't been a little old lady with a yapping dog in the elevator, he would've thought the place was abandoned. The lack of fanfare made his job a whole lot easier, so he was relieved. His relief waned when he saw the dead man. Finch had failed to mention there would be a body waiting for him. Fusco did not consider that an acceptable oversight, so he called Finch.

"Glasses, you failed to mention the DB in the apartment. Who is he? What the hell happened here?" he inquired as he looked around at all the bloody materials on the floor. "Is Wonderboy okay? There's a lot of blood here."

Finch, bristling at Fusco's nickname for Reese, replied, "John is ill. The occupant of the apartment, Rachel Ezhno, is the one who is injured."

"So what happened here?"

"Detective… I don't know," Finch said as he hung his head. "I didn't see anything. I didn't know what was going on until all the damage had been done."

"Well that's not helpful. When can I talk to Wond… Reese?"

"I don't know that either, Detective, but I do have video of what happened there. I am just getting set up here so I can view it."

"Great! I'll join you," Fusco advised.

"No, Lionel. You get everything you can from the crime scene. The medics are on their way back over there to clean up."

"Clean up?"

"Yes, Detective. By the time they have finished cleaning up their items I will have seen the footage and will consult you regarding the body."

"Finch, I hope you aren't planning on asking me to dump him in the usual place. We should've put up a 'No Vacancy' sign there after the last one!"

"I'll call you later, Detective Fusco. Goodbye."

Reese's doctor approached Finch with an update on both patients.

"Mr. Reese is resting comfortably for now. Ms. Ezhno… well… it's too early to tell. We will keep you posted."

Finch did not press for more information. For now, he wanted to check on Reese and view the footage, which he could do from Reese's room. Finch had designed this part of the clinic to be his library away from his library, so to speak. Each patient room had a non-medical computer console which resembled the bridge of the Starship Enterprise, only Finch's set up was more impressive.

He kept the volume down so as to not disturb Reese. He looked up at Reese more than he did the footage until he heard the three magic words: Spyware, camera, microphone. He rewound just to make sure he'd heard what he thought he'd heard then continued watching.

Oh my God. Rachel could die because of me! He swallowed hard and pushed up his glasses. Now he couldn't look away from scene unfolding before him. He flinched when Reese shot the assassin and gasped when Rachel collapsed. He was still unclear on how Rachel had been shot, so he went back to the beginning. This time, he was determined to pay attention to every detail.

After viewing the footage again and checking another angle, Finch was in shock and didn't want to believe his eyes. He saw a bullet wound on the front of the dead man Reese had shot twice in the back. Now he understood Reese's bloodcurdling cry for help.

"There's no way you could've known that would happen. It isn't your fault, John," Finch said quietly. Not that telling you that will do any good. What if Rachel blames him… "No. Stop it," he told himself.

He called the Detective and explained everything as promised. Fusco was relieved when Finch told him to have the medics remove the body. For Finch, that body was the least of their worries, but he couldn't just leave it there. He wasn't in the mood to discuss disposal options either.

Finch was completely discombobulated by the situation. Now he was concerned for Reese's emotional health as much as his physical health. Their number was in surgery, clinging to life, after having been shot by man sent to protect her. There was a corpse of an assassin, sent to kill because of something he himself had done, on the way to the clinic. As if all that weren't enough to handle, he still had no idea who was shooting up New York City (and why) or why the Machine spit out Bear's number.

He took his glasses off and rested his head in his hands. If Rachel doesn't survive, Reese is going to… "No, Harold… just stop. It won't help," he whispered to himself. All he could do at that moment was act as yet another monitor keeping watch over his friend.