Alex sat down on the sofa next to Clara, listening in as Lincoln described what they were doing. He had managed to get the general gist of the conversation. Apparently they had tracked a man who had stolen the card out to Miami. T-Bag, Gretchen and Self were on the team too. All of them had to get Scylla back for the General. Alex had looked over to Clara as soon as he had heard the General being mentioned, but she was stoic, her gaze remaining on the coffee table in front of her.

They had found the man's girlfriend but she had set them up. They'd done more digging on her, Gretchen perched with the laptop on her knees as she typed furiously. They had managed to deduce where she lived and where she worked, alongside breaking into her bank details.

"She went to someplace called the Pelican Club," Gretchen said, slipping the laptop down onto the table as Alex leant forwards to look at it.

"After lunch," he confirmed, looking at the details. "And then she went to the gift shop."

"So she was near the marina?" Clara wondered as Lincoln sat down beside her and Gretchen stood up, moving to perch on the back of the sofa. Alex laced his fingers together, holding them to his chin.

"So he lives there?" Bagwell wondered.

"Or it's an inside job," Gretchen said and Lincoln almost rolled his eyes at her conspiracy theory, tiring of hearing about it. "If he's working with someone from The Company then they wouldn't want to be on a flight list. They're trying to get Scylla out of the country, but they're trying to do it by boat."

"Then we go to the marina," Gretchen said.

Shutting the lid of the laptop, Alex stood up as Clara did the same. Looking down to her, Alex knew that he needed to talk to her in private about all of this, but he suspected now wasn't the time, despite the fact that he had a lot of questions. Namely he wanted to know what she was thinking. He suspected there was a lot going on inside of her mind.

…

Walking onto the marina, Clara kept her sunglasses over her eyes, letting them cover her up. She loitered by the back with Alex as they saw the office in front of them and Self was the one to take control.

"I've got this," Self said. "Alex, come on."

Moving off, Alex followed Self while Clara waited outside with the rest of them. Looking to Lincoln, she spoke in a hushed tone as Bagwell and Gretchen wandered off, walking around the area and looking around.

"Self's getting too big for his boots," Clara said, recalling the conversation they had been having before Alex had walked in. "You know he's not going to give it up. As soon as he gets his hand on Scylla then who is to say that he won't try to steal it again?"

"No one," Lincoln said. "That's why I'm keeping a close eye on him."

"Or we could shoot him?" Clara muttered and Lincoln raised an amused brow as she folded her arms over her chest and looked around, shrugging as she made the motion. "Hey, I don't like killing, but the guy is a pain in the ass."

"I can agree with you on that one," Lincoln said.

Waiting quietly, Self came out, flashing his badge as he waved his hand at them to follow him. Catching Alex's eye before he put his sunglasses on, he shook his head and shot Clara a look that said don't ask. She chuckled lowly before following them, heading towards the wooden walkway where people were stood, waiting to get onto the boat.

"What's going on?" Clara wondered from Alex as they remained behind everyone.

"Self's managed to persuade the man we need to do a luggage search. Either that or we shut his business down while we do checks," Alex said. "He preferred the first option. Problem is the boat that we need has already docked…"

Trailing off, Alex looked into the distance, eyes narrowed as he saw a young man in a green jacket, a backpack resting on his back. Following his gaze, Clara wondered what was happening before she felt Alex press a hand to her arm.

"Wait here," he said.

She didn't have a chance to ask what he was doing before he took off, ducking under the barrier and onto the walkway, chasing after the boy who had moved. He was running away and Clara wondered what was going on. She had seen him and he didn't look as though he would have Scylla. He was too weedy. Then again, that was a good ploy.

Clara remained where she was as she heard Gretchen's voice enter her ears. "Your boyfriend wastes no time, huh?" she said. "He's been here ten minutes and he's already chasing the bad guys. Of course, I could have saved him the time and told him that the kid he went after was probably running because he had some weed in his bag."

"How would you know that?" Clara enquired, voice harsh as she tried to make it clear that she wanted nothing to do with Gretchen.

"Because I'm not an idiot," Gretchen said.

"Never said you were," Clara responded. "Anyway, shouldn't we keep on searching the bags?"

"Guess so," Gretchen said, an amused tone to her voice as she watched Clara, knowing exactly what the woman was thinking. She didn't want to be here or doing this. That's why Gretchen knew she would double cross them one day. And when that day came, Gretchen would make sure she was on her side.

…

Sitting in the living room and watching the CCTV footage seemed fruitless. They had been at the marina for over an hour, searching every bag, and they had found nothing. Clara was on the couch, looking at the screen playing the camera footage while Bagwell and Self stood in front of her, pacing while Gretchen sat at the glass table, working on the laptop.

"Well maybe it was already on the boat?" Bagwell asked. "If they didn't want their name on a flight list then maybe they-"

Clara stood up and wandered off, tired of listening to their theories. She would pay attention when they had something solid. She had seen Alex and Lincoln talking to each other by the kitchen and she wandered off towards the balcony, stepping outside and overlooking the water. She didn't know how much longer went by before she felt a hand on her back.

"You know," he said, his voice soft and low, "I'm not really sure why we're still here."

Looking up to him, she shrugged her shoulders. "We're here because The Company want Scylla," Clara said and Alex looked to her, noticing the look on her face and he shook his head at her, speaking in a hushed tone.

"You're not here for them."

"No," Clara answered. "Initially I came here to help exonerate you, but you decided to do a runner."

"So why are you still here?" Alex enquired. "You know that Lincoln isn't going to stop, don't you? I was just talking to him and he's not like Michael. His intentions aren't noble…he isn't going to try and put Scylla in the right hands."

"Yeah, well," Clara said in a drawl, "Lincoln can't always get what he wants."

He didn't have a chance to say anything further as Self exclaimed that they had a hit on the woman. Moving back inside, Alex watched her go, letting out a deep sigh as he saw her leave. But he had no idea that Bagwell had been listening in on their every word.

…

Clara wasn't surprised to find that Gretchen had gone off on her own to speak to the man with Scylla. Scott Carruth. She had returned to the apartment after meeting with him, telling them who the buyer of Scylla was. Some guy called Wilcott. But Alex knew better than to trust anything Gretchen said. He didn't trust her at all.

"So we're going to believe this?" Clara wondered from Alex as they climbed into a car in the garage. "I mean, it's ridiculous. Gretchen wanders off and now we are following her to where she thinks Scylla might be."

"I don't trust anything Gretchen says," Alex said. "Then again, I don't trust anything most people say. Listen, I know that you've probably got a lot of stuff going on in your mind right now, Clara."

Scoffing, Clara watched out the window. They were following Lincoln, Gretchen, Bagwell and Self, not all of them able to fit into one vehicle. Alex let out a deep breath before looking over to her, seeing how she had bags under her eyes and how her face was scrunched up in a constant state of worry.

"We're going to talk about this," he told her. "Tonight…we're going out and we're going to talk about this where no one can hear us or spy on us, you got it?"

"Doesn't sound like I have a choice," Clara said, frowning to him as he followed the car in front.

"Not really," he agreed with her.

They drove in silence, pulling onto a rooftop car park. The other four were already outside the vehicle, looking at a building across the car park. Approaching them, Clara dropped her hands to her hips, looking at the building as she dropped her hands to her hips.

"He has the entire top floor rented out," Gretchen said.

"So he works for The Company and picked an entire floor made from glass," Alex mused, knowing then and there that Gretchen was playing them.

It was only when the sound of a click entered his ear did he turn around, looking at the men advancing towards them. Rolling her eyes, Clara looked to Gretchen as Carruth moved towards them, his men behind him with their guns in their hands. But then Clara knew what Gretchen was going to do. She couldn't beat her to it, instead Gretchen pulled her gun out and managed to hit Clara across the face, watching her stumble to the side as Alex moved then, grabbing hold of her.

"You bitch," Clara snapped at her.

Aiming the gun at Self, they all looked at her. But none of them looked shocked. Instead there was just anger there. Moving to hold her stinging cheek, Clara kept her fingers lightly on it as Alex looked at the unfolding situation.

But then Gretchen shot. Aiming the gun in the direction of Carruth's men, she fired, not once flinching as she pulled the trigger. Two bodies fell to the floor, leaving Carruth. Moving to him, Lincoln stood before him.

"Where's Scylla?"

"I can get it," Carruth informed him.

"I'm hoping you can," Lincoln said. "So where is it?"

"My buy-"

"-He can't get you Scylla," Alex interrupted. "It's gone."

Carruth nodded. "He's right," he said. "So right now there's only one thing on my mind-"

He was cut off by the noise of gunfire and Clara wondered what the hell happened. Alex had pulled his gun out, firing it at the man stood across from them as he fired his own gun. Looking around, she felt relief when she saw Alex was fine, still stood with his gun aimed at Carruth.

But Gretchen was on the floor, holding onto her side. Alex wasted no time, moving over to Gretchen and bending over her body.

"Wilcott, the building?" Alex asked from her and Gretchen took a deep breath, panting as she felt the pain from being shot.

"Made it up," she said.

"So you have no idea who he's working for?" Alex said and her shake of her head confirmed that.

Standing up straight, Alex watched as Lincoln moved over to them, his gun aimed at her. Self began shouting at Lincoln, demanding for him to shoot her. She protested, telling them how she would never have shot them. Self kept on talking, his voice loud and pretentious before Bagwell butted in.

"She has a kid," he said. "Her name is Emily and she is eight years old…come on…"

Closing her eyes, Clara looked away. Gretchen might have been a terrible human, but that didn't mean that she was a lousy mother. She had to love her daughter. Clara knew what it felt like to lose a parent and if this Emily was only a kid then she didn't deserve to experience that.

"Let her be," Clara said, going into the pocket of her jacket and pulling out a cell.

"What are you doing?" Self demanded from her.

"Calling her an ambulance," Clara said.

"Why the hell would you do that?" Self asked.

"Because she has a kid and I am not him…I am nothing like him…" Clara said and Alex understood she meant her uncle as she dialled for an ambulance and wandered off, making the phone call while Alex looked to Lincoln, moving his hand to stretch outwards.

"We're not them," he told him.

Lincoln seemed to accept that and he pulled the gun away. Clara moved back and knelt by Gretchen's side, watching as she clutched her torso. But the woman shook her head at her as Clara shrugged her jacket from her shoulders and forced it into a ball, pressing it down against her side.

"You need to go," Gretchen said. "If you stay here…"

"Don't act concerned for me," Clara complained as Self and Bagwell jumped into a car. Clara remained seated on the ground, her legs bent underneath her. "Just stay still."

"Clara, we need to go," Alex demanded from her and she shook her head at him.

"Not until the ambulance arrives."

"If you're here when it gets here then the police will drag you off," Gretchen said to her. "Now get out of here and make that bastard suffer for everything he's done. Do you understand me?"

Clara seemed to understand and Alex grabbed her by the arms, pulling her up. She said nothing as she left her jacket, pulling everything from its pockets before standing and walking away, the sound of sirens entering her ears. She was about to turn around and go back, unable to walk off. But Alex was pretty strong, dragging her back to the car without much effort.

Looking over her shoulder one last time, Clara wondered just who Gretchen truly was.

…

Sitting on a bench, Clara could hear the sound of traffic behind her while in front there was a large pathway, people walking up and down it, conversing and laughing. Some walked dogs while others were cycling and some running. The sun was slowly setting down over the coastline and Clara could see some people on the small beach, practicing yoga with a teacher.

Returning to the bench with a box in his fingertips, Alex sat down next to Clara. She moved awkwardly, sitting upright while Alex placed the box between them. Opening it up to reveal the large pizza, he picked a slice up and chewed on it. Clara did the same and Alex let out a deep sigh after they had both finished the first slice.

"What's going on, Clara?" Alex asked of her. "You've been on edge all day. Just talk to me."

"I don't know what to say," Clara informed him. "I came out here with the intention of finishing what we started. I thought that if we could get Scylla and give it to Homeland…the FBI…someone we could trust, then I could help exonerate you, like the original plan."

Clara picked up another slice of pizza. "Anyway, Linc picked me up and he told me everything. He told me about how Michael had needed medical treatment straight away and the only way to get it was through him…the bastard had picked him up and wasn't letting him go…I get that Lincoln had no choice. I know that."

"But?"

"But it's wrong," Clara protested, dropping the pizza into the box and suddenly losing her appetite for food as she looked to Alex, a gaze of desperation in her eyes as Alex watched her. "What we are doing is wrong and I can't let him do it, Alex. I can't let him hand Scylla back to my uncle…let him get away with this…but I know my uncle. He's not going to let us get Scylla and take it from him. He knows exactly what buttons to press…LJ…Sofia…Pam…he'd kill them all if we tried to betray him. But how can I live with myself if I give it to him? My parents…what would they think?"

"Hey," Alex said in a whisper, moving the pizza box to the other side of him before he dared to move, wrapping his arms around her as she took hold of his waist, her forehead pressing to his neck. "Your parents would not be ashamed of you."

"My mom died for this," Clara reminded him. "My mom and my dad…I just can't let him get away with this, but I can't think of anything to do to stop him. I don't have a cunning plan for everyone to win. I don't know what to do, Alex."

"We'll think of something," Alex promised her, trying to keep her calm as he moved a hand down her arm, stroking it softly as he heard her let out a deep breath, exhaling shakily. "We'll think of how to get away with this."

"I hope so," Clara whispered to him and Alex bent down, his chin coming to rest on the top of her head.

"I came here for you," Alex told her simply, "but if you want out-"

"-There's no out now," Clara interrupted him. "If my uncle knows you're here then he won't let you out. We both know that. Besides, I can't run. I need to do this and find out how to beat him. I can't keep running…we can get through this."

"With those inside of that apartment?" Alex wondered from her. "Because Self and Bagwell are in this for themselves. We both know that."

"Yeah," she agreed, "but Lincoln is keeping a close eye on them and without Gretchen then the gang has been broken up. However, Bagwell…I don't particularly enjoy being around a man who raped and murdered people for fun. I mean, the idea of sleeping down the hall from him."

"I doubt he would do anything," Alex assured her.

"I know," Clara said, "but still…not a pleasant thought."

"Then I'll stay in your room," Alex said, his voice nonchalant. "There's a sofa. I'm fine there if it makes you feel any better?"

"Or," Clara said, testing the waters, "you could just share the bed with me. It is a king size and holds two people easily. Besides, I'd say we're easily in a stage of our relationship where we can get away with it. You don't need to worry, I haven't been the college slut in years."

Alex winced at hearing her speak of herself in such a manner. Squeezing her shoulders tightly, he agreed with her, nodding his head as he moved an arm over his body to her face, holding her cheek softly as his fingertips moved into her hair.

"I doubt you were a…well…promiscuous."

"Yeah, well, you didn't know me back then," Clara whispered. "It was more a case of just…well…I don't know. College was a phase."

Alex chuckled. "I can imagine," he said to her, "but we'll be fine, Clara. Come on, let's finish this and we can go back and sleep. See what tomorrow has in store."

Leaning over his body, Clara flipped the lid to the box open and grabbed another slice. "Can't wait," she said with sarcasm.

…

Clara had changed into her pyjamas, the bottoms low on her hips while her vest top sat high on her neck. She was sat on the bed, hand holding a towel as she dried her hair off to make sure it wasn't dripping. Alex was closing the curtains, dressed in a pair of green and white plaid bottoms with a long green top. His hair had dried in less than half an hour following his shower. He had shut the bedroom door, locking it before going to sit on the other side of the bed to Clara.

"Humour me," Clara urged him, folding her legs underneath her body. "What did Wheeler's face look like when you escaped?"

Alex let himself chuckle, pushing the plump duvet off the bed so that he could climb into it. He picked up his glasses from the bedside table, perching them on the end of his nose as he spoke to her and grabbed the folder that had been underneath his glasses.

"He was pretty pissed," Alex admitted to her. "I demanded a bathroom break and managed to pull a pipe from the sink. So, when we were back on the road I smashed the window and opened the door from the outside. Lang…she chased me…and she got me…I just…I know she was doing the right thing. I get that. But she lied to me and that hurts."

"I'm sure she was only doing it to protect you," Clara said. "I know I don't know her as well as you do, but she didn't come across like Wheeler. I think she genuinely cares."

Uncurling herself from her position on the bed, Clara moved to the en-suite, hanging the towel over the radiator as Alex spoke.

"Maybe I'll get a chance to make amends when this is over," he said.

"Hopefully," Clara managed to agree, picking up her toothbrush and squirting toothpaste onto it, brushing her teeth quickly.

Alex read the file on Carruth, wondering if he could find anything on the man that might help them. But he wasn't entirely focused. Instead he was looking over to Clara through the doorway, noticing the way she paced up and down while brushing her teeth. Keeping his eyes on her, he moved a hand to his nose, scratching it as he saw her let the brush dangle in her mouth for a second, her eyes set on the mirror as she prodded her chin, her fingers pulling at the skin.

She had her eyes narrowed and Alex wondered what she was doing before he saw her reach into a toiletry bag, rummaging around it as she kept her toothbrush between her teeth. Grabbing hold of a bottle, she squeezed on it and rubbed some cream onto her chin. Alex remained intrigue, every movement she made seemingly beguiling to him.

Spitting into the sink, she pulled her hair over her shoulders and tugged the elastic bobble from her wrist, securing her hair behind her back before leaving the bathroom. Turning the light out, she padded slowly towards her side of the bed, yanking the duvet down and climbing into the bed.

"Did you know?" Clara suddenly asked from him. "When Wheeler was supposed to be taking you to the airport, did you know he was lying?"

"I knew as soon as he was arguing with Lang," Alex confirmed.

Laying her head on the pillow, she rolled over onto her side, facing him as she stuffed a hand under it. "You didn't say anything to me."

"You couldn't have done anything," Alex said, "and I didn't want to give Wheeler the satisfaction of seeing you yell at him."

"But if you knew-"

"-I didn't want to see you upset," he interrupted. "I kept it from you because I thought that would be for the best. I don't know if I made the right call. I doubt it, but I…I'd put you through enough and at the time I thought it was the right thing to do."

Nodding slowly, Clara seemed to understand as Alex tossed the file onto the table, his glasses soon following. He lay down on his back, turning his head to the side to watch her.

"Get some sleep," he urged in a soft tone. "We have all of tomorrow to worry about what we need to do."

"I know," Clara told him. "But…you know I'm glad, don't you? That you're here. You could have gone…ran off…"

"And why would I do that?" Alex enquired from her, moving out to let his hand go to her shoulder, holding it loosely as she seemed to shift closer towards him, but Alex didn't mind.

He met her halfway, moving his arm to rest underneath the pillows as he felt her hand go to rest on top of his arm, holding it loosely in her fingertips. She closed her eyes as Alex watched her for a few minutes, confident that she was on the verge of sleep. He closed his own eyes then, his mind still on what they were going to do. He didn't even know. He knew that he soon had to find out, though.