After a disappointing twelve hours of driving around the city to interview telekinetics, Alex walked back into the command center, chugging a doubly-caffeinated coffee and hoping for some good news.

Unfortunately, there was none to be had.

"How can we have nothing?" Alex tried to keep herself from shouting. "You're telling me every telekinetic in the area that we've interviewed has alibii'd out?"

"From both incidents, yes," Vasquez said, muffling a yawn behind the back of her hand. "We have their statements though, and are trying to see if any two could have worked together."

"And we still have no idea how Winn or his father pissed off these telekinetics?"

"No, ma'am."

Alex pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache rapidly building. "This is unbelievable." She quickly turned to Vasquez. "Not you or the team. The whole situation. They can and should not be this hard to find." She stared at the wall of screens for a long moment. "You've run all of his cases since he met Kara, right? And any open files about him in HR or at the NCPD?"

"Everything, ma'am," Vasquez reported sadly. "No viable leads."

Alex couldn't think of anything to say that didn't sound trite, so she just nodded at Vasquez and walked away.

She considered calling Winn, just in case he had some radical idea that none of them had thought of yet, but given the hour, he was (hopefully) asleep. With everything that had happened to him over the past three days, he needed a full night's rest, and she didn't have anything critical enough to disrupt that.

Instead, she pulled out her phone and called Johnson for a status report.

"Everything alright up there?" she asked as soon as he picked up.

"Seems to be. Is Agent Schott headed back my way?"

Alex's heart dropped into her stomach. "What do you mean, 'headed back your way'?"

"He left around 0400. Said you had called him in."

"And you didn't go with him?"

"He assured me you would meet him at the elevator. I take it from your surprise he's not with you?"

"I haven't seen him since this afternoon—yesterday afternoon…" Her heart dropped again until it was sitting around her knees. "Check his room," she ordered. "Maybe there's some sort of clue to where he went."

Alex raced back into the command center. "Winn is missing," she announced. "I need to know everything that happened from 0400 when he was last seen in his room until now."

"Yes, ma'am," Vasquez said, before calling out orders to her team.

"Looks like he ran through the parking garage at 0405," Henderson, one of the other analysts, said a moment later.

"Came out on 8th," someone else chimed in.

"Agent Danvers," a third said. Alex whirled around to face the voice, then back toward the wall of screens when the analyst just pointed.

It was exterior security footage from the DEO garage. At the very far end, they watched Winn approach a dark van, making conversation with the man standing just inside. Alex's breath caught in her throat as she saw a second masked man sneak up on Winn and throw a bag over his head, before securing his wrists and pushing him into the van. The second man raced around to the passenger's side and climbed in. Not long after they were gone.

"What can you tell me about that van?" Alex demanded.

"No plates," someone said.

"I think we can get the make and model," said another. "We can run that through the—"

Alex's phone rang and she accepted the call without reading the ID.

"What?"

"I found a note," Johnson said, then read it.

Given that almost three hours had passed since Winn had left, it was unlikely the bomb threat was real, but they needed to follow protocol anyway.

"Sound a code red," Alex announced.

"Ma'am?"

"Now, Vasquez!"

As the fire alarm started blaring, Alex shouted, "Follow standard evac protocol. But bring your tablets. We can't let that van get too far away."

"Yes, Agent Danvers," the techs called as they grabbed the aforementioned tablets and hurried out of the command center.

Alex hung up on Johnson and dialed J'onn. "We have a situation sir," she said as she sprinted out of the command center and started her evacuation protocol duties.

A few minutes later, while evacuation was continuing and floors were being cleared, a small notification appeared on Agent Vasquez's computer. One of the searches she'd started yesterday morning looking for potential alien involvement in unsolved crimes outside of National City had returned a match.

Unfortunately, in all the chaos, it wouldn't be seen for a while yet.

"Tell me we have something," Alex all but screeched ten minutes later, as she approached the huddle of analysts in the DEO parking lot.

It had taken her that long to run through her checklist, at which point the bomb squad had taken over and was clearing the space more systematically. Kara had been called in as well and was assisting in scanning the building for any signs of the bomb mentioned in the note.

Given that it had been over three hours since Winn had handed himself over and no explosion had yet occurred, Alex was positive the threat was empty, but she wasn't confident enough to stake her team's lives on it. After all, since this was presumably the same person who had planted the bomb in Winn's microwave, they had the skills required to manufacture one for the DEO.

"On the bomb or Agent Schott?" one asked, glancing up from his tablet.

"Either! Both!"

"We're tracing the van through the city. They were heading east."

"I don't like the past tense. Where are they now?"

"Uncertain. We're still tracing it through traffic cam footage."

"Have they made any stops?"

"We don't know. The footage isn't consistent. It's possible they stopped between lights."

"I need someone following the path and checking for signs of Winn. What about his tracker?"

"Not responding."

"His phone?"

"Still in his temp quarters."

"His watch?"

"It pinged around the corner at 0408 and hasn't since."

"Dammit," Alex cursed under her breath. "Try to find a way to get one of them back online."

"Yes, ma'am," the analysts said as they scattered.

There was a quick breeze by Alex, not as fast as her sister's, but recognizable as Mon-El.

"Kara just called," he said as he wiped sleep out of his eyes. "What can I do?"

Alex took a breath. "You're bomb proof right?"

"Hypothetically, but—"

"I need you to help Kara clear the building. Just bound to the next one if you find something."

If Mon-El was thrown off by the crassness of her request, he didn't show it. He just nodded, then raced into the DEO.

They drove for a while, so long that Winn had lost count of time. He must have even drifted off for a bit, since he was jarred awake by the van slowing down.

He heard the backdoor of the van screech open before he was assailed with the backdraft. Then someone was kneeling beside him, sliding their hands between Winn and the van floor, and in one horrifying beat, Winn understood what their intent was.

"No!" he cried, thrashing madly and trying to find some sort of hold to grasp onto. But his sluggish body didn't respond as quickly as he wanted; his hands scrabbled against the metal floor, seeking purchase but finding none.

"Wait, no, please!" he begged as the hands beneath him lifted and sent him rolling toward the open back door. He tried desperately to grab at the hands, feeling just a hint of contact before the floor dropped out from under him.

He didn't even have time to cry out before he smashed into the ground. Unfortunately his right side took most of the impact again and his vision whited out. He was vaguely able to feel himself rolling down, down, down a gentle, but uneven and sharp slope, before crashing into the bottom of… something.

He didn't have more time to identify it, because his head collided with something flat and hard, and his world was snatched away.

"We have a reading on Agent Schott!" someone cried.

Alex crossed the parking lot with almost superhuman speed. "Where is he?"

"175 miles east of the city."

"Send me his location." Alex pulled out her phone. She wanted to ask Kara, who could fly there and back before they knew otherwise, but in case there really was a bomb, she needed to be here. Fortunately, she knew someone else with mechanical super-speed. "J'onn, I have a line on Winn."

"Hand over duties to Vasquez," J'onn said. "I'll pick you up on the corner in three."

"Copy that."

When Winn woke, all he was aware of was that it was warm. Hot even. Borderline broiling.

He was sweating up a storm, especially his head, which was still in the dark bag. The sweat was causing it to stick to his mouth and he shook his head gently to dislodge it. While that solved one problem, it ratcheted up the ache in his head, and Winn had to squeeze his eyes closed as the world rolled around him.

He was outside—had been thrown out of a van, at a slowish speed, but still. He tried to take some sort of inventory, but his arms were numb from being pinned under him, and his knee felt aflame, but whether that was from the sun or a new injury, Winn wasn't sure.

He had to get up.

He couldn't use his hands, so instead he tensed his abs and threw his upper body forward like he was doing a sit up. His arms screamed as the blood flow was restored and his head was spinning so wildly Winn almost threw up. He caught himself at the last moment, not wanting to have that trapped in the bag with him.

That's when Winn noticed the bag had a gap at the bottom—it had torn on his journey down to wherever he was. Once his circulation was restored to his arms and he could move his shoulder again, Winn gently tilted his neck to rest on his right shoulder and worked on shucking the bag up to neck, past his ear, and eventually high enough that, when he tipped forward, it slid right off.

Without that protection, the sun beamed into his eyes and Winn immediately ducked his head again, focusing on keeping yesterday's dinner where it was, while his brain throbbed in agony.

After a while he risked opening his eyes again, still looking downward, and was able to see his torn pants without causing another episode. He lifted his neck marginally and began to assess his injuries. His right knee was bloody, pants torn right over his patella, as were a few places on his left leg. His torso hadn't fared much better, but his knee seemed to have taken the worst of the impact. He wasn't looking forward to moving it.

His left shoulder blade ached, but didn't feel warm or sticky, so he hoped it was just a bruise, garnered during his collision with the rocks and debris lining the sides of… the drainage ditch he was now sitting in.

Down here, even though it was only three or four feet, he knew he couldn't be seen from the road.

He needed to get up there, so he could be rescued.

He risked a glance left, at his shoulder, not seeing any blood or tears where he knew his tracker was. That was good. Hopefully it was still functioning after being bounced around like it was.

He needed to get up.

He leaned against the right side of the ditch and used that to sort of push his way upright. With his ankles still ziptied together, he couldn't not put weight on his right knee, but he tried to lean it against the sloping wall as much as possible and plant with his left as best he could.

He was out of breath, head aching violently, but he was upright-ish, his head now on level with the road. Bit by bit, he pushed himself up until finally he rolled over the crest.

He could rest here for a minute, he thought as he turned his head away from the sun. Anyone driving by would have a hard time missing him.

Then, he heard an odd sound that wasn't coming from the road. He squinted up at the sky and saw a car slowing to a stop above him then lowering itself to the ground beside him.

He must have hit his head harder than he thought, because he was sure of one thing: cars didn't fly. But then he saw two very familiar people get out of the car, and he almost cried in relief.

"Winn!" Alex cried as she sprinted over to him. She slid to the ground beside him and pulled his head gently onto her lap, while her free hand dug into her pocket for her knife, which she used to cut the zip ties.

Her mouth was moving, asking a million and one questions, but Winn was just so damn happy to see her, that the minute his hands were free, he pushed himself upright and hugged her.

"Thank you," he breathed into her shoulder.

Alex's hands came up to rub his back as she said, "I'll always find you, Winn. I promise."

They sat like that for a minute, before Alex pulled away. "C'mon," she said, standing and holding out both hands. "Let's get you home."