"Any final questions?" Sophie asked Brennan as she finished styling the forensic anthropologist's hair.

Brennan had all kinds of doubts swimming around in her head about her ability to lead Zarger in the general direction of Spencer's whereabouts, and coax the crime lord to admit key information about his business enterprises; however, her main concern was holding up the act long enough to ward off suspicion. "What if he asks about me?"

"We've already talked about your back story. Beyond that, be as honest as you can. Keep it natural, make him laugh, and remember, it's okay to remain a bit of a mystery."

"That seems easier said than done."

"That's what this is for." Sophie handed her back her ear piece.

"I guess I'm ready." Brennan responded after putting in the piece.

"Almost." Sophie stated handing over a box of champagne.

XXXXXX

"What do you got there?" Hardison looked over at Nate's computer screen as he handed the mastermind some Chinese take-out.

"Booth sent me some of the files from the New York Police Department." Nate explained.

"Hoping to find…?" Hardison questioned.

"A connection to Moreau." Nate answered still flipping through the names and pictures; his eyes focused on the screen.

"Him." Hardison announced as a picture appeared.

"What?" Nate broke gaze to look at the hacker.

"He looks familiar." Hardison responded thinking about to his 'encounter' with Moreau in the hotel. "Chapman." The hacker remembered. "That's what Eliot called him. He had, um… taken over Eliot's position as Moreau's right hand assassin. Probably would have taken out Atherton if we hadn't stepped in."

"So he was in DC?" Nate questioned.

"Yeah, why?"

"Because it says here that Aaron Chapman was brought in for questioning on the disappearance of a local drug dealer, James Perry, in October of 2006 leading me to believe he's been working with Zargar for at least that long, and..." Nate's voice started to trail off.

"And what?" Hardison pressed.

"Ah… nothing… it's just… it's just not adding up."

"What do you mean it's not adding up? We have a connection between Zarger, Moreau, and Eliot. Maybe he DID work for Zarger in 2006 before moving up the ranks and taking a more prodigious position working directly for Moreau. With Moreau behind bars he could have gone back to New York and convinced Zarger to seek retribution against the guy responsible for his pay cut. We find him and we should find…"

"He should be dead." Nate interrupted him.

"What?" This time Hardison questioned. "What do you mean dead?"

"I mean shot to death and blown up in an abandoned warehouse." Nate admitted for the first time since promising Eliot that he wouldn't. "There was a leak in information. The Italian's cover was blown and Moreau led us into a warehouse where she was tied up. His men, over a dozen, had to have been, followed us in fully armed with orders to kill."

"How did you get out?" Hardison questioned.

"She and I ran for it. Eliot was the diversion."

"You mean, he…?"

"Yeah." Nate swallowed a lump in his throat having already told Hardison how it ended.

"Maybe Chapman got out. I mean, with all the chaos, he could have escaped, right?"

Nate shrugged his shoulders trusting that Eliot knew better than to leave a loose end when he stated that it was 'taken care of'. "Eliot didn't seem to think so. Look, either way, it wouldn't hurt looking into this guy. Check out any property he may own in the New York area. Any credit activity in last 6 months?"

"I'm on it."

"Oh, and Hardison. That… that stays between us."

Hardison nodded.

XXXXX

"Ms. Kennan, don't you look lovely tonight." He kissed her hand and pointed her in the direction of the open limousine door.

"Please, call me Joy." She responded and handed him the gift. "I'm a woman of my word."

"So I see; hopefully before nights end we can crack into that and celebrate the beginnings of a fruitful partnership."

"I'd like that, of course there is that small matter of…."

"Firsthand knowledge of the interworking's of the company, of course." He interrupted. "Could I interest you in some dinner first?"

"I could be persuaded." Brennan smiled. "A colleague of mine told me about this place. He said if I was ever in Manhattan I had to try it, um… Lakeside… no Riverway or… River-something."

"Riverpark, good choice. There's a spectacular view of the East River, absolutely remarkable at this time of the evening." He assured her before giving the driver directions.

'Nice job.' Sophie encouraged her.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did a beautiful and intelligent woman like yourself get involved in such a… what's the word… 'messy' business like this?"

"Opportunity." Brennan answered as Sophie fed the line over the com. "If you haven't noticed we're living in a world where the rich get richer, the poor get poorer. You can go to college, get a degree and earn what? $40-50,000 a year on average. Get a doctorate and you may make a little more. I guess I could do that, or I can carve my own opportunities and make a whole lot more."

"So this is about money?"

"And travel." She answered. "Interesting people, fancy parties, and… pretty things. Why, what does it mean to you?"

"Respect." He responded. "Something my people aren't accustomed to receiving."

"So you take it." Brennan replied back. "Is that respect or is it fear."

Zarger shrugged. "Six of one…" He responded casually as the driver pulled up to the restaurant.