Frank watched Emily sleep. His mind was racing with what he was going to do. He couldn't call Charlie. He couldn't take her to Marseille. He didn't know what to do with her. The only thing left to do was find out who was trying to kill her, and even that was proving to be difficult. Then there was the thought that perhaps the mercenaries were trying to kidnap her, and that thought was somehow worse. Sometimes torture was worse than death. Frank was surprised at how fiercely protective he felt about Emily in the short time he knew her. Then again, that wasn't new for him. He thought about Lai and Jack. He'd felt protective of them in a short time too.

"Wait," Emily said, stirring on the couch. Frank looked at her again, frowning. She was still sleeping, so that meant she was dreaming. He thought back to the car when she had lurched awake and looked as though she'd seen a ghost.

"NO!" Emily shrieked, sitting upright suddenly. He tensed, getting ready to stand and go to her when she reached to grip her head and breathe. He waited, not wanting to embarrass her by showing that he'd seen her at her most vulnerable.

"Oh, God," she groaned, rubbing her face and twisting to swing her legs over the side of the couch. Then she saw him.

In that moment, Frank felt like he was looking in a mirror. He recognized the look in her eyes as one he saw in his own at times: emptiness.

"Hey," he said. She got up and came over to him, sitting down in the chair beside him. She said nothing. Frank didn't pry. He figured if she wanted to talk to him, she would.

His phone rang, and he saw it was Tarconi. He answered quickly.

"Yea?"

"Frank, you need to get out of there," Tarconi ordered.

"What's wrong?"

"I managed to track down another mercenary hired to come after Emily, and according to his phone, he's traveling towards you at a high rate of speed."

"Great," Frank sighed. "All right. Thanks."

"Keep in touch," Tarconi said. "I'm almost to the root of the problem."

"Thanks."

Frank hung up and got to his feet.

"What?" Emily asked when he reached to pull her up.

"We gotta go," he replied.

"Again?" she asked. Frank didn't answer as he pulled her behind him. He grabbed his keys on his way out the door, and they hurried to the car. He could hear an engine revving, and he knew what was coming.

"Get in," he ordered, and Emily yanked open the door and climbed in fast. He got in and started the car, hoping that his was faster. When they peeled off, it wasn't long before the mercenary's car showed up in his rear mirror.

"Frank," Emily said, gripping her seat belt tightly.

"Hang on," he instructed, stepping on the gas. It was going to be a wild ride.

...

Emily wanted to throw up. Frank was a good driver, but she was feeling nauseous from all the turns and fancy work he was doing.

"Frank!" she shouted when he narrowly missed an oncoming car. She whipped her head to look behind them, and the other driver was still right there. She didn't understand why they wanted her. This whole thing was driving her crazy. Frank seemed preoccupied. She didn't dare talk to him for fear of distracting him and getting them both killed. He reached into the glove compartment at this point and pulled out his gun.

"What are you going to do with that?" she asked, unable to help herself.

He didn't answer, which frustrated her. When they pulled onto a stretch of highway, she had a bad feeling suddenly. She shrieked when the other driver hit them from behind. Frank yanked the wheel to move them to the far left, and he spun the car backwards, throwing his arm out the window and firing. Emily watched as the bullets hit the other car's front tire, making it start to wipe out. Frank shot the back right tire as the car spun, and then it was barrel rolling. Frank yanked his car back around and stopped on the shoulder, throwing it in park and getting out. Emily twisted in her seat, watching.

...

Frank approached the now totaled car with his gun aimed in front of him. He saw the driver start to pull themself out of the driver's side window.

"Don't even think about it," Frank said when the driver reached for their gun. Then he stopped, slightly startled.

The driver was a woman.

"This was a very expensive car," she complained.

"Get up," Frank ordered. He'd recovered from his surprise. Of course, women could be mercenaries too. He should have expected that. She obliged, wincing as she did so. She held up her hands, a small smile on her face.

"You gonna shoot me?" she mocked.

"Who are you and why are you after us?" Frank asked, getting to the point.

"I'm not after you," she said. "Just the woman."

"Why?"

"I was hired to."

"By who?"

"Oh, so many questions," she rolled her eyes. "I don't have to answer them, you know."

"It would end better for you if you did," Frank surmised.

"So you are gonna shoot me," she smiled. "Okay. Go for it."

Frank knew he couldn't, not when there was traffic passing them. He also wasn't the type to kill anyone he didn't have to.

"Move," he ordered, and she started to walk towards his car. Emily got out at this point.

"You wanna call off your dog?" the woman asked her.

Frank resisted smacking her. He opened his trunk and rummaged for a zip tie instead, his gun still trained on the woman.

"Did you kill my father?" Emily asked. The woman just smiled and shrugged. Frank pulled her arms behind her back and zip tied her hands.

"Where are we going?" she asked as he put her in the backseat.

"You'll see," Frank answered. Emily reluctantly got back into the car, but she never took her eyes off the woman.

"They'll just send more," the woman said after they started driving. "They'll keep coming until they get what they want."

Frank ignored her, but he didn't like that statement. It was exactly what he was afraid of.

...

Emily followed behind Frank and the woman as they went into the police station. Once inside, Frank explained what he wanted, and they waited until Tarconi appeared.

"Good job," he applauded Frank. "I can take it from here."

"I want to be there when you question her," Frank said.

"Sorry, friend. Only those with a badge can do that," Tarconi said, taking the woman's arm and escorting her to an interrogation room. Emily went to sit down on one of the chairs against the wall while Frank paced. She felt tired again. Then she realized she could use the phone there. She went to call her father, but he didn't answer either of his phones. This made her feel worried, but there wasn't anything she could do. She decided to call Miranda.

"Emily?" Jenny whispered. "Where are you?"

"I'm in France," Emily answered. "I'm at a police station."

"What?! Why?"

"Long story," Emily sighed. "Am I fired?"

"Not yet. I've managed to lie and tell her we've been in touch. She hasn't tried calling you yet, but I don't know how long that will last."

"I had to destroy my phone so they wouldn't find me," Emily explained. "She can't call me. Understood?"

"What?! What are you talking about? Who's trying to find you? Emily, what's going on?!"

"I don't have time to explain. I'm fine now, okay? Just promise me you'll keep her from calling me!"

"Okay. Okay, I'll do my best," Jenny promised. "And please, please be careful." A loud voice sounded in the background. "I have to go. She needs something."

"Okay. I'm hoping soon I'll be free from this and have a phone again. I'll be in touch," Emily promised. She hung up and noticed Frank was now talking to another officer. She went to sit back down. After ten minutes, she was approached by a male officer.

"Excuse me? Ms. Charlton?" he asked.

"Yes?" she said, feeling surprised.

"May I have a word with you? I have a message from your father."

Emily felt hope then. Her father must be okay if he got her messages and called her back here.

"Okay," she said.

"This way," the officer smiled, gesturing. She stood and threw a look at Frank, who had his back to her and was trying to argue with another officer about why he should be in the room with Tarconi. She turned to face forward again and followed the officer to a room down the hall. Once inside, the officer closed the door.

"What's the message?" Emily asked. He smiled.

"Be smarter," he answered.

"Wha-?" she started, but was cut off by the hand that wrapped around her mouth from behind and the feel of something sharp going into her neck. She struggled, but within moments, she felt herself falling into darkness. Then it was black.

...

Frank was extremely annoyed. He had gotten nowhere with the officer, and Tarconi was taking his sweet time with the mercenary. Then he turned around to see Emily was not sitting in her chair.

"What the hell?" he muttered to himself, going to investigate. He looked up and down the hall, but he couldn't see her. He guessed she maybe went to the washroom, so he waited ten minutes outside the ladies' room door. Feeling slightly worried, he knocked. When no one answered, he tentatively pushed it open.

"Emily?" he called.

No one answered. He went in to look, and he found it empty.

"Shit," he said, going back out and rushing to find someone, anyone. He approached the receptionist when he couldn't find an officer.

"Excuse me," he said, making her look at him. "Have you seen a woman go by here recently? About this high, brown hair, and really thin?" He realized that Emily was quite thin, almost too thin. He didn't know why he didn't realize that before.

"No," the receptionist shook her head. "I haven't."

Frank moved on, starting to panic now. They were in a bloody police station! How could this have happened? He approached the same officer he'd been arguing with earlier.

"I need Tarconi," he said. "Right now."

"How many times do I have to tell you-?" the officer started, but Frank cut him off.

"She's missing," Frank said. "The woman I'm trying to keep safe is missing. Get him out here, now."

The officer frowned and looked at the now empty chair Emily had been sitting in. Then he moved to go get Tarconi. Frank paced until he showed up.

"What's going on? She's missing?" Tarconi asked, stopping in front of him.

"Yes. Someone has taken her."

"Are you sure she's not in the washroom?"

"I looked."

"Of course you did," Tarconi sighed. "Okay. I'll start the search."

Frank hoped they would find her and fast. He'd never forgive himself if she got hurt or killed when he was supposed to be watching her.

...

Emily woke up and groaned. She felt very groggy, but she was aware enough to realize her wrists and ankles were tied to a chair.

"Oh no," she said. She tried to breathe without panicking. Then she started chastising herself for being so stupid, but since when could you not trust an officer of the law? She guessed it really did happen where some officers were corrupted.

She knew Frank would be missing her by now. She hoped he would find her fast. She didn't know how he was going to, though.

...

"Let me at her," Frank said after an hour had gone by with nothing. "Badge or no badge, I can get an answer from her. Just let me in there." Tarconi chewed on his cheek for a moment. It was an emergency after all.

"Fine," he agreed. He led Frank to where the female mercenary was and opened the door. Frank went inside, and Tarconi shut the door, leaving him alone with the woman.

"You again," she said cheerily.

Frank wasted no time lunging at her and wrapping his hand around her throat tightly. She choked and tried to stop him, but her handcuffed hands prevented her from doing so. The chain rattled on the table from her effort.

"Where is she?" Frank demanded. He released his grip a little to let her talk.

"With you?" she said, confused.

"Not anymore. Who took her?"

"I've been in here," she retorted. "I have no idea."

Frank released her then, realizing she was telling the truth. He grew more frustrated. She watched as he paced a little before facing her again.

"Who is after her?" he asked.

"Not this again," she sighed. Frank moved forward to grab the chain that was holding her handcuffed hands to the table and yanked it hard, making her lurch forward and crash face first into the table.

"Daaaaamn," she said after, shaking her head hard. "This is police brutality."

"I'm not the police," Frank corrected. "It's just you and me."

He stared at her hard. She stared back. Her black hair had come loose from its bun, and there were cuts on her tanned skin. Her American accent is what threw him off. What was she doing here?

"I think we got off on the wrong foot," she said eventually. "I'm Jade."

"I don't care," Frank scoffed. "Who is after Emily?"

"Some person."

"What person?"

"I don't know! We don't do names," Jade said, shrugging. "Their username was Hellfire. That's all I know."

Frank turned to leave at this point, joining Tarconi in the opposite room. He was already on his computer looking up to find out who Hellfire was.

"That was a little intense, no?" he commented, not looking at Frank.

"She needed a push," Frank answered.

"Right," Tarconi said with a raised brow.

"Can you find this person?" Frank demanded.

"I'm trying."

Frank grew restless. Then he realized something. He left and went back to Jade, who sighed loudly.

"Is this round two? I told you, I only know the username," she began.

"How did you find us?" Frank asked, interrupting. Jade paused for a second.

"I got a text telling me your location," she answered. Frank grabbed the evidence bag on the table that had her phone in it and went back to Tarconi.

"What?" Tarconi asked, having not paid attention to the conversation on his end.

"She said someone texted her Emily's location," Frank said. "That means someone is tracking Emily somehow. We find that person, we find Emily."

"Ah," Tarconi said, finally looking up. He took the bag from Frank. "I'll get right on that."

Frank waited as he took out the phone and began to work. He tried not to feel scared for Emily. He knew he'd find her.

He had to.