Apparently, the last chapter didn't meet anyone's expectation. This one has a little more action and a lot more feelings. As mentioned, this is alternate universe so Jack is good, Lauren's still around and all the wonderful characters belong to Abrams and ABC.

"Okay, Freelancer, I'm bypassing the fire doors... now. I'm located at the south entrance of the alley behind the building."

Pushing the panic bar on the door to the outside of the building, Sydney readjusted Bridgette's arm on her shoulder and scanned for the familiar white service van. Luckily, the alleyway wasn't that long for Bridgette was getting heavy and Syd wanted to get back inside to help get Eric out to safety as well. The guard, still slumped on the floor when they'd hurried past, would be waking soon if not found sooner, and it wasn't easy to help the battered agent up the steps. But, it was amazing what could be done with the power of adrenaline which Sydney was now using to assist Bridgette to the van.

Jack slid the backdoor open and helped the bruised agent climb into the vehicle. "I'll meet you back out front in a few minutes. Syd? Be careful. I don't trust this guy."

Offering a sly grin, Sydney waved goodbye to her father and hurried back to the doorway she had passed through. The coast clear, she hurried back down the hallway to de Meirelles' office and rapped quickly on the door.

"Sydney! Don't!"

...but it was too late to heed her dad's warning. She opened the door to find a swarm of men standing around a heap on the floor. Regrettably, the mound was poor Eric, struggling to stand but only managing to get to his knees. His face discolored from developing bruises, he grimaced as he pressed his hand against his ribs and tried to stand again.

"What's—?"

"It would be best if you kept your lying mouth shut. Especially for your friend here. I don't know who you are working for but don't worry, you won't be working for them much longer."

Wonderful. How exactly had this happened?

Twenty minutes earlier...

Eric flicked a green leaf on a nearby plant and looked at his watch. Sydney had just left and hopefully would find "Charlotte" before it was too late. What she had said earlier about needing to talk to him was weighing heavily on his mind. What was it? Knowing his luck, she was probably going to tell him she was madly in love with Michael again.

"Ah, Senhor Hughes, your wife is very beautiful."

"Tell me about it, mate. She's my true love. Always has been."

"Wonderful for you. Unfortunately, I have some bad news, 'mate.'" Pressing a button on his desk, he called in a group of men that made Pro Wrestlers look like schoolboys. "Olga Preto isn't the friend you thought her to be. It seems her loyalties lie with the side with the most power. She said you'd be dropping by."

Clearing his throat, Eric recalled de Meirelles' reaction to Olga's name. It wasn't so much a nervous shuffle but a move to hide his excitement about knowing something they didn't. "Oh. That's interesting."

"Not going to confess to me? Well, maybe you'll talk to my friends."

And that's how he found himself on the floor of the plush office wishing he was a million other places. He fell on his side and looked up at Sydney. "Hiya, love. The boys here were just trying to get a discount on some cars. What do you think we should do?"

The men grabbed agents Weiss and Bristow roughly and pushed them into the hallway. Sydney didn't dare do anything with Eric in the state he was in: he was using a thug as a crutch for the moment. This was definitely not good. Yes, she had been in worst situations but for some reason none of those came to mind at the moment.

Miraculously, Sydney found herself in the back of a an enemy's van for the second time in a week, leaning up against Eric, with guns pointed at her head. How were they going to get out of this?

"Everett, are you okay?" Their cover was paper thin but still intact and that was probably the only thing keeping them alive. "Where are they taking us?"

"I don't know, love. I'm so sorry I've gotten you into this."

Eric must have felt responsible for their current situation. His breathing was short and ragged when he put forth any effort such as grabbing hold of Sydney's hand. His hand was surprising warm, given the current level of fear that they were both dealing with and she liked holding his hand.

"Everett, don't talk like that. We'll get out of this." Sydney studied their captors and specifically the one sitting in the passenger seat. He was talking on a cell phone and it wasn't sounding good for the spies.

"It appears that Charlotte Soulier has gone missing. So, it seems we've traded one bad agent for two."

"What are you talking about, mate? We just wanted to trade some goods with your employer. What's all this nonsense about agents?"

But his questions went unanswered. The words had no sooner left his mouth than the van took a jarring hit from an outside force. The guards tried to find support to strengthen their fight but the van took another hit, spilling everyone onto the floor. Another blow ripped open the back doors revealing the trusty surveillance van driven by Jack following closely behind theirs.

"Syd, get out of here!" Eric looked panicked as he held her face between his hands. It was the first time he had ever showed his emotions for her openly.

"We're both getting out of here!" She tugged on his arm and his look of concern turned to a grimace. "Come on, Eric!"

"I can't. There's no way I could make it. Go! Only you can get me back! Use my contacts, anything. I know you can do it!" Pulling her head towards him, he pressed his mouth hard against hers and then pushed her towards the back of the van. She stared back at him, stunned for a moment from a cloudy memory, and offered a soft smile as she hung out the back to reach over to the white service van. A thug reached out and grabbed her arm but Eric reacted faster than she and punched the guy squarely in the jaw.

Jack took his cue after she clambered into the back of his vehicle and veered off the road, out of traffic.

"Dad! We have to go after him!" Sydney was out of breath and she was yelling her demands to her father. Bridgette was huddled in a ball against the other side of the van, seemingly out of it.

"Sydney, we have to be practical here. I know we should never leave an agent behind but he's as good as dead."

"So was I, dad. But you didn't give up! Neither did he and neither will I! Please, please do this for me."

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