While Finch, John and Shaw panicked outside the penthouse Harbor stood looking out at the skyline with Boucheron at her side. Manhattan truly was beautiful all lit up by street lamps and moonlight.

Suddenly Luc grabbed her around the waist and pushed her up against the floor to ceiling window so he could press himself into her backside and kiss down her neck. She could feel his length start to harden through her tight dress and let her head fall back so he had better access to her neck. She let out a teasing hum as her eyes flicked around in search of a laptop. Luc hitched up her dress so he could get a hand under her skirt to tease her through her panties.

"Bon garçon." (Good boy) She purred with a grin.

Luc paused and pulled away from her a little with an eyebrow raised.

"Cassandra, parlez-vous français?" He asked with a hidden smile. (Cassandra, do you speak French?"

Harbor nodded sweetly as she turned to face him. "Oui, je parle français." (Yes, I speak French)

Luc flashed her that smile then, the one most people flashed the prostitute when they realized she could do more than lay on her back or sit on her knees.

"Clever girl."

With a chuckle he went straight back to touching all of her and Harbor continued to let him. The glass was cold against her back when he shoved her against it again. The raven-haired beauty enjoyed a dominant man but the Frenchman seemed more focused on treating her like a Rag doll. She played along to keep him happy, placed kisses along his jaw and gripped him by the lapels. Then, just as quickly as it had begun, Luc was half way across the room saying something about getting more champagne; une petite tentation (a little temptation) he'd called it.

"Je peux pas résister." (I can't resist) She said with a smile.

Harbor hadn't ever liked champagne but she let him carry on as it would give her time to locate his laptop.

As soon as he vanished into the kitchen Harbor was off in search of her prize. Quickly she noticed an office door partially open to her right so she hurried to it and sure enough there was Luc's laptop sat waiting for her on the desk.

"Hank, I found it." No answer. "Hank? Harold, can you hear me?" Still nothing "Sameen? Reese?"

Oh this isn't good. Didn't matter though, she had a job to do and Harbor would damn well do it. She rooted around a moment to find his external hard drive tucked into his briefcase, plugged it in and started copying everything to the thumb drive just as Finch had instructed; Harbor didn't even bother reading the file names, that was Hank's problem.

While she waited Harbor started to go through his desk again, but every now and again glanced up to the door. She didn't want to waist what time she had left and who knew what was in those drawers. Suddenly the sound of a champagne cork popped loudly and she ground to a halt a moment only to hear 'merde' so she assumed it had probably foamed up and covered him; extra time!

Harbor glanced out the huge window to her left to discover she could see most of Central Park from the desk, beautiful view. Carefully but quite quickly she returned her attention to the desk and its contents. Didn't take long for her to find a false bottom in the very bottom drawer inside which sat a stack of files; quite frankly a child could have found them. She opened the top one expecting some illegal activity to do with permits for building work but instead she found something much, much worse. Harbor froze in horror. She wanted to take pictures to prove this but she couldn't, the guards out front had her phone so she fell back on what she knew, her brain. Harbor went through each page at speed, didn't read a word of it just looked long enough to commit it to memory; she could write it all down later at the safehouse and read it then.

A few moments later Luc entered his office to find Harbor sat in his desk chair with her feet up showing off her shoes and staring out at the park. He glanced around but his laptop was still shut and everything looked just as he'd left it.

"What are you doing in here, Cassandra?" He asked hiding his distrust as best he could.

"I couldn't see the park from in there and now I can. It's beautiful all lit up. You have a great view. Is that glass for me?"

Boucheron held out a glass of champagne for her to take which she did with a smile. "Oui." (Yes)

She'd been just about to take a sip when he tugged an envelope from his inner breast pocket and dumped it down on the desk between them.

"I have no idea how much you charge but that envelope covers it, trust me." Then he moved around his desk so he could run a tantalizing finger up her smooth leg. "Fancy shoes." He grinned.

The escort flashed him those big green eyes. "You like? They're from a friend."

Luc raised an eyebrow. "A friend? One with expensive taste."

Harbor hummed as he continued to explore up her legs. "They're the best kind of friends."

Champagne forgotten, Harbor rose to her feet and pushed him down into his desk chair so she could straddle him. She brought his own glass – with his fingers still around it – up to his lips to make him drink then shoved it behind her uncaring as to what happened to it. Luc tried to kiss her then but Harbor stopped him with a finger on his lips.

"I don't kiss on the lips, Luc." She informed him with a smile.

Meanwhile Harold sat in the safehose watching the guards via the cameras like a hawk. The two kept smirking and laughing as they joked about how the whore was giving their boss a good show. He'd originally thought it would have been useful to listen in on the guards but now Harold wished he couldn't. All they'd done was act as though Harbor was a piece of meat.

The bespectacled man was fairly certain nothing had gone wrong but he still didn't like this, that she was in there having sex with a Number. Of course he knew she did this most days but that didn't mean Finch had to like it. That a man paid for her, got to tuch her while he sat there with only Bear for company.

Reese kept yapping on in his ear about how they should have thought this plan though a little more and Shaw itched to climb onto one of the balconies and figure out a way up to the penthouse with the largest calibre weapon she could find to aim at Boucheron's head.

Their only option was to sit tight and they did exactly that for a good half hour and then, miraculously, Harbor just came out and asked for her cellphone back calmly. The tall guard handed it over without issue.

"That was quick."

Harbor shrugged. "Men with money usually don't last long."

That got both men laughing, even Mister dead inside laughed. The taller one went to poke his head in and check on his boss but Luc just slammed the door in his face as Harbor climbed onto the elevator. Once the doors had rolled closed she waved up at the camera.

"Harbor, Darling, can you hear us?" Finch asked through the comms.

She nodded in th affirmative. "Yeah, I hear you. Where did you go? What happened to 'I'll be here the whole time', huh?"

The escort wasn't angry, just a little irritated that if something had gone wrong Reese and Shaw wouldn't have burst in and saved her.

"I believe that Mister Boucheron has taken the liberty of using a single jammer in his penthouse. We were forcibly separated." Informed Hank.

The elevator stopped abruptly and the doors opened to admit Reese and Sameen. Harbor smiled at Shaw as she leaned against one of the mirrored walls and Reese slammed the lobby button.

"So how'd it go?" Asked the shorter woman.

Harbor took a calming breath. "Fine, but that man is a fucking monster."

Reese's eyebrow shot up as he turned to face her. "You saw what was on the hard drive?"

"No," she shook her head "I copied that like Hank said but there were files hidden in his desk … he's fucking evil, Smiles. Either of you fancy teaching me how to flay a man?"

Sameen lit up a little as though she was happy to whip the knives out and get going but a glance at Reese reminded her they were working.

"Harbor, what was in those files?" He made sure to keep his voice soft.

Finch knew her best, knew she wasn't quick to violence, so if she wanted to torture a man then she'd seen something horrid. She made no attempt to answer him a while just stared at the closed doors until finally she took a deep breath and answered.

"Children. He's kidnapping and selling children. Some as fake adoption services others as sex slaves." Harbor took another calming breath as the other three took in what she'd said. "I think he's using his father's connections to do it."

"Why didn't you grab the files?" Sameen asked quickly and rather unhelpfully.

Harbor held her hands up to show off her dress similar to how she had with the guard.

"Why do people think this dress is the fucking Tardis? Or does Hank just sew hidden document pouches into your clothes?"

Finch broke in calmly. "Miss Shaw, Harbor's photographic memory is almost beyond comprehension, don't doubt her ability to remember every single word for a second." A pause, small and hardly there. "You did memorize them, yes?"

Harbor nodded up at the camera. "They're disgusting but yes, I put them in my head. I didn't read them but I'm reading them back now and they're like a menu. Which child is blonde with blue eyes, how much a girl is worth compared to a boy. Chance of defects. It's just wrong, Hank."

A wave of guilt rolled over Harold, he'd asked Harbor to go into the field for him and now he was stuck with some perverts child sex list in her brain. Once it was in there it stayed, that was what Harbor always said. What if there were photos as well, his mind questioned.

Finch cleared his throat. "Mister Reese, Miss Shaw, please bring Harbor back to the safehouse and I'll prepare a pad for her to write everything down. Thank you for doing this, Harbor."

Reese and Shaw agreed while Harbor muttered a simple 'you're welcome' before the elevator doors opened and they stepped out to the lobby.