Disclaimer: Sorry. Don't own the show. Don't own the characters. Will give them back soon, I promise.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

It's the fourth chapter already! Wow… There will be more action happening here! Enjoy!

Thank you everyone for all your reviews! The support is greatly appreciated.

It was almost midnight.

Don had been at his desk for two and a half hours straight, and was almost ready to leave. He had made sure that David Sinclair had been booked on the next flight to Los Angeles, and Don would be glad to have the younger agent back in the office. He needed his help to sift through clues and try to get some more leads. Rubbing his eyes lightly, he took a moment to think about how the LAPD planned to find these murderers. He had searched for news on the Antagonists over the past ten years but his search had come up empty. That didn't necessarily mean that the group was not responsible for the murders, but it just made things harder for him to convince the rest of the team (as well as the police force) that they should be looking for a group of people who haven't been active for six years.

Don got up and picked up his jacket, which he had thrown over one end of his desk. There was no one else still working on this floor except for a computer technician, Lydia, who had accompanied Don back from the crime scene. She was searching through the tapes from the other security cameras in the area, hoping to find a hint to the identity of the killer, with one hand rubbing the side of her head slowly. Lydia looked like she had a headache just looking at the screen.

"Any luck so far?" Don stepped over to her table and gave her small smile, "By the way, thanks for coming in so late… but we needed someone to comb through the evidence."

"That's quite alright, Agent Eppes." Lydia said, in a weary voice, her eyes still fixed on the screen, "I'm afraid I can't see anything on any of the tapes that looks remotely suspicious. There are just a few cars passing by, but none that I can see stop by near the complex. I'll go through it again to check, though."

Don sighed. "It takes a lot of planning to pull of four murders like this, and be able to keep the cops off your tail…" he murmured, almost to himself, "These people must have been planning this for months."

Lydia shook her head in a disappointed manner, "The things people do these days…"

Suddenly, Don's cell phone rang. Lydia jumped, almost knocking over the mug of coffee on her desk. "Sorry…" he looked at the caller ID and frowned slightly, "It's just my partner calling. She should be asleep now, though…"

"Eppes." Even though he knew it was Terry, his usual professional answer came through anyway. Don pulled his jacket on with his free hand, wondering why she would be calling him so late. It's midnight! She should be in bed, fast asleep!

"Agent Eppes…" Don's blood ran cold. The voice that came through the speaker was not the soft, even tone of his partner. It was a raspy, deep voice that he couldn't recognize. Blinking a few times, Don checked the caller ID on his phone once more. Sure enough, it read Terry Lake.

"Who the hell is this?" Don tried not to let the worry he felt for Terry come through in his voice. Who would be calling him on Terry's cell phone at this hour? Lydia turned around, wondering what had initiated Don's sudden change in tone.

"I hoped that we would be in contact sooner…" the voice continued, apparently in no hurry to reveal his identity, "But Agent Lake proved to be a lot less talkative than we hoped. Are we on a secure line, Agent Eppes?"

"Who is asking?" Don gritted his teeth to keep his voice steady. If anything happened to Terry… "Where is Ter- Agent Lake? Why are you using her cell phone?"

"So many questions, Agent Eppes…" the person on the other end of the line was almost laughing at Don, "And you haven't even answered mine yet. Don't worry. I will speak to you again in due course… with our demands. I will call back on this number in eight hours precisely. So… go home, brush your teeth and sleep well. Rest assured that Agent Lake will not be harmed, yet."

Don swore. Lydia was looking increasingly anxious, afraid that something might have happened to the vibrant young Terry Lake. "What the hell do you want?"

"Come on… have some manners. If you wish to see your partner alive, you might want to take what I'm saying seriously, Agent Eppes. It's a cold night… and let's just say that she's not wearing very much. You don't want her to freeze, do you? The faster we end this conversation the faster we can drive to a place with a heater."

Don didn't like feeling that he was being toyed with. He also didn't like the fact that Terry was in the hands of a man who chose to say to him that she's not wearing very much. "Let me speak to her." He managed to say, his free hand involuntarily clenched in a fist.

"Be my guest…" There was some shuffling, and then Terry's voice sounded on the other end. Her voice was shaking, perhaps because of the wind outside. Don's heart was slamming at such a fast pace he was sure that he was going to collapse soon from anxiety. "Don?"

"Terry!" He wasn't sure what to ask her. He just needed to know if she was okay. The FBI agent inside was trying to force some professionalism into his voice, but Don knew that this was personal. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"I'm okay…" Terry left the sentence hanging in such a way that Don couldn't fully believe her. There's something she's not saying… "I just have no idea who these people are. I don't know what they want either…" Oh god, she's scared. I can't bear it if she's scared…

"Just hang on, alright?" Don tried to keep her calm, even though he knew that Terry wouldn't break easily, "I- I'll find you, I promise." Then there was some more shuffling, and Don's heart sank. He needed to make sure that she was okay… that they wouldn't hurt her. If they touch a hair on her head…

"That's enough talking, Agent Eppes." The raspy voice returned. Don was feeling incredibly nervous. A hostage situation was bad enough, but now that that hostage was Terry… "I will be in touch. Be in your office at eight AM. I want all the agents to hear my requests."

&&&&

Twenty minutes earlier…

Terry was snuggled deep inside her warm, cozy blanket, half asleep. With her heater switched on, and wearing her most comfortable sweater, Terry was sure this was pretty close to heaven. What would make it perfect? If only she had a certain someone to cuddle with… No, stop it! Now is not the time to have inappropriate thoughts about one's partner. It's time to sleep and recover from exhaustion…

There was a really quiet creaking noise coming from somewhere, but it was so hard to hear with her heater making that stupid buzzing noise. It must be the neighbors again… back home after some party. Terry turned over and buried her head in the pillow. Come on, people… go to bed! It's just so nice and warm in here…

She was almost asleep when her bedroom door opened, but she didn't make any movement. However, it was the sound of voices that made her jump upright. Terry felt her head collide with something hard and cold; and all of a sudden she was knocked out of her blanket. Struggling to stay conscious, Terry tried to get up and lash out at whatever had pushed her. But then… someone pressed a gun to the side of her head.

She froze. In the dark she couldn't make out any shapes, but she was sure there were at least two other people in the room with her. Who the hell are these people? How the hell did they get in…? Terry heard someone feeling the wall for the light switches. She felt her heart pounding against her chest with such intensity that she felt nauseas. She wanted to scream but knew that it would be futile. Suddenly the lights came on.

Someone wolf-whistled. "Hey… take a look at those legs…" Another person chuckled. God damn it, Terry thought, as a sudden realization hit her; I've got no pants on. She tried to salvage whatever modesty she still had by pulling her legs closer to her, wrapping her arms around her knees whilst she scanned her surroundings. Terry didn't like being observed so openly like this.

Okay… come on, FBI training, help me out here. She was wide awake now. Terry looked around at the men who seemed to be searching her room for something. There were three men surrounding her, opening doors and drawers. All had masks on, and all were armed with what looked like semi-automatic pistols. What are they looking for? In my sock drawer..? Oh shit, my gun! Terry turned around slowly to face the bedside table, not wanting to cause any unnecessary alarm by making a sudden movement. She saw that there was another man standing just behind her, holding a gun to the back of her head. "Now don't you move, sweetheart." He had a very deep voice, but it crackled, like he had a very sore throat.

I'm not your sweetheart! Terry wanted to scream. Her weapon was still on the bedside table, apparently untouched. It seems they don't want it. There was some shuffling noise coming from the front of the room and Terry turned her head back around to the source of the sound. "Okay, I've got it." One of the men said, holding up her cell phone. "Get her up. Let's go."

The man behind her pulled Terry up to a standing position. She knew that it was useless to try and resist being taken out of her home, but it just felt so stupid being dragged the way she was. The men led her out of her apartment and through the door that led to the fire escape stairwell. The six flights of steps that Terry made her way down on seemed to take much more energy that normal. She knew that she was still exhausted and wasn't fit to take on four armed men. She would just have to follow their orders and see where they lead her to.

If they wanted to kill me, they would have done that already. Terry tried to keep herself calm. These must be the people who wrote the note and slipped it underneath my door last night… Or maybe they are just 'hired help'. Who knows…?

They reached the bottom floor and Terry was pushed out into the lobby. All of a sudden, there was the sound of footsteps coming from outside and the men stopped moving. Terry was filled with a sudden fear. Was it one of the kids coming back late? The footsteps became louder and louder. The men raised their weapons. "No… please…" Terry pleaded. "Please don't hurt anybody. Just take me and leave them alone…"

"Miss Lake!" An old man appeared through the doors, staring at Terry in shock. It was Gerald, the elderly night watchman. He had been working at her apartment block ever since she moved in, and being a late worker, Terry had often seen him when she got back from work. He looked from her to her kidnappers with an expression of disbelief on his face. "What's going on…?"

"Gerald… run quickly, go!" Terry tried to run towards the old man and push him away from the line of fire. He was standing in front of the three men, unarmed and looking everything but fairly matched against her captors. But she was too late. Almost without hesitation, it seemed, the man behind her lifted his weapon above her head and fired. Gerald fell back, the shocked look still on his face. "No!" She ran towards him, free for a moment when her captor released her to put his gun into its holster by his waist. With tears half-blinding her vision, Terry saw the bullet wound that had entered Gerald's heart. "Oh god, no…"

"Quickly! People would have heard the shot." The now unarmed man grabbed Terry's arms and pulled her away from the lifeless body. He seems to be the leader of the group, Terry noted, in spite of her shock. He was very strong. She tried to pull away, but it was useless. Her body was too tired to make use of the self defense skills that she would have used under normal circumstances. The man grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up roughly, carrying her away from the lobby and out into the open.

It was freezing. Terry felt the wind whip around her face and dry the tears that had settled on her cheeks. They just killed an old man in cold blood… There was a black van parked just in front of the apartment building. The three men jumped into the van, and the engine rumbled. The back door was open. The man holding her practically threw Terry into the back seat and jumped in after her.

"Get us to a safe place." He reached under the seat and pulled out several lengths of rope. "I need to speak with Agent Eppes." The car jerked forward and they sped out of the parking area.

Terry looked at him in horror. What the hell did he want? A man behind her grabbed her hands and pulled them violently together, using some rope that his accomplice handed him to bind her arms. She struggled, and was met with a stinging slap on her face. "Don't move, Agent Lake." The man with the raspy voice said, pulling her legs upward onto his lap and tying her ankles together with more rope. "We wouldn't want to damage that pretty face any more, would we?"

TBC

Ooh… how exciting…. Just wait! There's more to come. The suspense…!