Police and FBI swarmed over the crime scene that was once Henry Iron's home, forensics teams combing over everything with a toothbrush. It took them three hours to get cleared to enter, bomb squads searching every room and door and floorboard for booby traps. The officers killed in the initial attempt to enter were taken away in body bags, their families notified they died in service. Captain Sawyer watched them be taken away. It felt like a waste of life.

She stood in the threshold of the front door, her eyes scanning over the black soot around the frame, the remnants of the scorch marks left by the explosion. Her ears continued to ring from the blast that tore her officers apart while she fled behind her cruiser to cower. Her heart was still pounding, recalling how she struggled to breathe for a moment immediately after. She didn't tell anyone about the panic attack, she knew the moment she did she'd be taken off the case and forced to see the shrink. She'd probably need to eventually. After she told herself. After these bastards are in jail where they can't hurt anyone else.

Drawing in a deep breath she stepped forward, forcing herself to remain calm as she stepped into the suspect's home. It looked pretty ordinary on the surface. The furniture looked to be wholesale, not at all tacky. The wallpaper was new. There was food in the fridge, fresh and untouched. Henry Irons took care of his home, making it look cosy and welcoming. The bomb at the front door and the live wire attached to the back was anything but welcoming she thought grimly. She reminded herself nothing about this place could be taken at face value. Forensics had already found traces of over a dozen toxic substances and volatile chemicals in his garage, indicating much more happened here than just Netflix and chill.

She walked into the cold garage. There wasn't a vehicle, Henry Irons didn't seem to have one registered in his name. There were dozens of tools and gear along the workbenches, much of it disorganised. She scanned the room, then scanned the rest of the single storey house objectively. Ignoring all the explosion damage the house was spotless, tidy and neat. She looked at the work station, the mess it was in. she found two other benches much tidier. It seemed odd, until she remembered the man himself was in here when they came to check it out.

"How are you holding up?" Alex's voice asked, interrupting Maggie's thoughts drawing her attention to the redhead in the doorway. The two of them looked at each other, a silent moment of understanding passing between them that negated the need for a vocal answer. "Find anything?" Alex asked, walking over to join her as they scanned the garage.

"We found plenty, but I don't think we'll find anything useful" Maggie said, nodding to the disorganised workstation as an officer photographed it. "What do you think?" she asked the young woman.

"That he doesn't take care of his workplace" Alex shrugged. Maggie told her to look again. Alex took a moment to examine the desk, then look at the others around the room. "It's the only one in a mess" she realised. "He was here when we knocked on the door. He ran when the bomb went off…he came home to get something, left in a hurry."

"You're statement said he had a bag with him" Maggie nodded. "What do you think he came back for?"

Alex shrugged. "It could've been anything. Evidence, weapons, tools…incriminating documents." Her eyes narrowed when she saw the open drawn, pulling on a latex glove to open it slowly revealing papers and the wrapping for an address book. "A client list!" Alex guessed.

"It would be important enough to risk coming back to the first place we'd have searched" Maggie nodded, coming to the same conclusion. "He gets discovered, goes on the run, realises he needs to get home and remove all incriminating evidence linking him to his clients. Suddenly we arrive, knock on his door…" she looked up at the front door. The bomb squad had briefed her about how the explosive was wired to a remote arming mechanism under the floor. "He panics, arms the bomb he'd set…"

"No" Alex disagreed, shaking her head. Maggie looked at her curiously so she explains "I've met this guy. When I caught up to him he wasn't panicking. Even caught he was calm. I think he heard us coming, knew we were about to break in and bust him, so he armed his little security system to buy himself more time."

"To find what he came for?"

"And once he has it, he ran out the back" Alex finished, tracing his steps to the back door where more officers were dusting the contraption on the back handle. "I'll give him this, his failsafe works. He's probably got mines dotted around the yard too" she warned, recalling the flashbang that stunned her long enough for him to hop the fence.

"We know" Maggie told her. "Bomb squad fished out eight different explosive devices buried on the property. Flash bangs, smoke canisters and a few claymores, all set to be triggered remotely. He had this place rigged up like it was fort Knox. And yet" she added, thoughtfully looking around the makeshift workshop. "I'm not an expert, but this doesn't seem big enough to the centre of a weapons manufacturing operation" she said, glancing questioningly at her partner.

Alex analysed the garage and came to the same conclusion. It was too small, not enough equipment. "Basement?" she asked. Maggie shook her head. They'd checked. One floor, no hidden rooms, no underground bunker. "So if this is where you live, where do you work?" Alex wondered aloud. If she was still the director she'd have her agents map out the neighbourhood looking for likely places he could've set up with easy access to and from this property. She assumed the FBI were already trying that angle so left the suggestion unsaid, not wanting to insult Maggie's intelligence.

"So how's the family?" Maggie suddenly asked, catching the young woman off guard. Alex turned around, shrugging a little while she waited for the last of the officers to wander off to another part of the house. Maggie waited until they were alone before asking her more delicately "I heard about what happened. How is your sister, and your friends?"

Alex exhaled slowly as she made a final check for eavesdroppers before asking "have you ever heard of a man called Robert DuBois? Goes by Bloodsport."

"Our FBI liaison briefed me" Maggie told her. "Can't say I've heard of him. Probably for the best from the sounds of things. How serious is he?"

"It looks like he was hired to protect the Blacksmith, maybe hired by our other suspect" Alex explained. "His rap sheet is long and he has weapons beyond what we've seen. Military trained, and I mean good enough to knock me on my ass without weapons. I just I was lucky to walk away with a bruised ego and a busted jaw" she joked.

Maggie wasn't laughing. "The talk was Supergirl was incapacitated and the green Martian was shot" she said. She stepped forward to look into Alex's eyes. "So I'll ask again, how is everyone?"

Alex stared back at her, unsure what she could say to convince her everything was fine. What lie could cover up how worried she'd been when she walked into that operating room after J'onn's surgery to find him laid out on the table unconscious. She stood at his bedside with her mother, both of them looking down at the green skinned alien who had took care of them since her dad died. She recalled the horror she experienced looking up from her fight with DuBois to see the mercenary cruelly gun the Martian down in cold blood just to make a point to her sister. She overheard what he said to her. A meaningless, senseless act.

"No matter what, you cannot blame Kara for what has happened here" Eliza had told her.

"I don't" she assured her, determination filling her alongside fury. This wasn't on Kara. This wasn't her fault. It was theirs, all of them. Bloodsport. The Blacksmith. The Reckoning. Robert Dubois. Henry Irons. Jake White. As she stood over J'onn's body she vowed to bring them all down, one way or another. She was going to make them pay.

She looked up at Maggie's comforting eyes, giving her a fake smile. "We'll be okay" she told her quietly. She deftly diverted the topic back asking the young woman "how are you doing, after what happened outside?"

Maggie sighed, hoping she wouldn't bring up her moment of fear and madness. She took a seat next to her on the workbench, releasing a slow agonising breath. "I'm fine" she said, unsuccessful in sounding convincing.

"You know, I have a friend who could help?" Alex cautiously said. "She's a bit of an expert in trauma."

"Are we talking about this woman who may or may not be your ex-girlfriend?" Maggie asked.

Alex looked at her in surprise. "You've checking up on the people I date?"

"Only via a brief google search" she replied. "Not sure if I'm ready to see a psychologist yet" she told her nervously. "Shrinks and I…we don't go well together."

"Well, despite how…complicated our relationship is, Kelly is a great shrink as you'd say" Alex laughed. "Trauma is her speciality. And she used to be in the army, so she would understand what you're going through."

Maggie looked at her, reluctantly saying she'll consider it. She had seen Kelly's background and Alex was right, she would understand. She turned her attention back to the garage, wondering if there's any point searching the place because Henry will have already gotten what he came for.

Her eyes fell to the pin board across the room where she noticed something stuck behind the drawings and takeout leaflets. She crossed the room and moved a menu to bring down a piece of paper with a phone number. It wasn't the number that caught her attention though, it was the note scrawled underneath it. In case of emergencies.

"What is it?" Alex asked, crossing the room following Maggie as she took out her phone and called the station. The captain showed her the note and it piqued Alex's attention just as much as hers. "Something he overlooked?"

"Maybe" she nodded, waiting to be connected. "Hi, I need a trace on a phone number in the directory?" she said once she got the line. She recounted the number and waited a moment. After a minute she pulled a face and hung up. "Why would a man hiding from the United States government have a number to the foreign office?"

Alex mirrored her look of confusion. "I don't know. Unless…" she recalled the message Kara sent her and pulled her phone out, dialling a number. "Brainy, Captain Sawyer and I are at Henry Iron's place. We've found a phone number we believe connects to the US foreign office. How soon can you get a trace?"

Brainy took the number Alex sent him and confirmed the corresponding directory instantly. "Okay, the number links to a direct line in one of their offices" he recounted over the phone where the two women were listening. "According to our database, the directory is labelled to a Christopher Smith, a United States Diplomat who works out of several embassies across the Middle East."

"Smith?" Alex, echoed. She recalled the name. "He's a rising player, looking to bring peace and end war across the world. Or so his campaign states."

"He's been working across the country to end conflicts advocating a peaceful coexistence. He's credited to be an American patriot according to his file, a pacifist, and has formed opposition to warlords and dictators who coincidentally opposed our country."

"Sounds like a stand-up guy" Maggie said. "Why would the Blacksmith have his number?"

"Kara said she'd dug up the details of a delivery Henry was making to one of his clients" Alex explained, not knowing where Kara got her information. "She also heard mention of a diplomatic pouch, believing that's how he plans to leave the city."

"I've been cross referencing the shipping manifests of every ship and boat scheduled to leave with the registry of any pouches coming in and out. I've found one ship that just changed its schedule requiring immediate exit through our lockdown."

"Did they say why?" Alex asked.

"It was at the express request of the foreign office" Brainy told her. "Which means no reason was needed. I'm looking up the manifest now to see who or what is on board."

"Can the foreign office override the DEO locking down the ports?" Maggie asked.

"They can, unless we can find grounds to keep them Alex said growing concerned. "No judge would grant us a warrant to search their pouches either. It's the perfect way to smuggle weapons in and out of the country."

"So we are entertaining the idea that a pacifist diplomat is working with a known weapons manufacturer?" Maggie checked, not able to conceive it.

"It wouldn't be the first time people have strived to bring peace through war" Brainy noted as he got his email. "Indeed, Christopher Smith is scheduled to be on board the ship tonight, and has authorised a container to be labelled as a diplomatic pouch."

"Big enough to carry out an arsenal of advanced weapons to bring peace to the world" Alex said.

"And one blacksmith to make more" Maggie finished.