Frank sat in the chair next to the bed and watched Emily sleep. He couldn't believe how much he'd fallen for her with only knowing her barely 48 hours. He had no idea what was in store for their future. He had no idea what was going to happen in the next ten minutes. His phone vibrated, and he stood up to go answer it in another room.

"Yea?" he said.

"I don't have good news, Frank," Tarconi said back.

"What happened?"

"The team I sent never checked in, which I took to be a very bad sign, and I was right. I just received confirmation that they're dead."

"Someone was waiting there," Frank confirmed.

"Something was waiting there," Tarconi agreed. "I don't know what to tell you, Frank, other than to hang tight where you are for now."

"Has anyone tried getting in touch with Charlie?"

"No one has had any luck yet. I hate to surmise it, but..."

"You think he's dead?"

"It's looking that way."

"All right," Frank sighed. "We'll sit tight."

"I'll be in touch."

Frank hung up and tapped the phone in the palm of his left hand. He really disliked not knowing what was going on.

"Frank?" Emily called. He went back into the bedroom to see her sitting up, the sheet pulled up around her.

"I'm still here," he answered.

"I used to wonder why I had abandonment issues," Emily half grinned. "Now I know why, but I don't know what I'd do if you left me right now."

"I'm not going anywhere. I'll keep you safe," Frank promised. She held his gaze, not saying anything else. He moved to rest his knee on the mattress and lean into her, kissing her softly while holding the back of her head with his hand. She reached to put her hands on his shoulders.

"You promise?" she whispered when he pulled back a little.

"I promise," he answered, disregarding yet another one of his rules. He felt he could keep this promise, though. She didn't break eye contact with him as she moved to pull his shirt up. Once it was off, she tugged him towards her. He didn't resist. He fell down slowly on top of her, kissing her again.

He'd meant every word.

...

Emily was on her side, her back pressed against Frank's chest with one of his arms draped over her waist and the other tucked under her neck. She had her fingers interlaced with the fingers of that hand.

"Tell me about your family," she said. She smiled as she felt his lips press into the back of her neck before he responded.

"I haven't seen them in years," he replied.

"Why not?"

"I don't think they'd like who I am."

"They're your parents. They have to love you no matter what," she pointed out. He gave a dry laugh.

"What fantasy world do you live in?" he teased. She twisted her head so that she was looking at him.

"It makes me sad that they don't," she said.

"We parted ways because of the SAS," Frank told her. "Mum couldn't handle me possibly dying every time I went out, so she started to distance herself from me. I think it was to make the pain of losing me easier to bear."

"That makes no sense."

"I know."

"And your dad?"

"He couldn't understand why I left the SAS, and his disappointment in me made him stop acknowledging me as a son."

"Frank!" she exclaimed.

"What? It's the truth," he said defensively. She turned fully now so that she was facing him and wrapped her arms around him tightly.

"I know, and that makes it so much sadder," she said, her face pressed into his neck.

"I just don't think about it," Frank reasoned.

"Well, maybe you should," she said. "I mean, I just found out my real parents are dead. My adoptive father, or whatever you want to call him, is probably dead. My adoptive mother left years ago and could be dead for all I know. I am basically an orphan, but if I had parents and I had a chance to make things right with them, I would."

Frank shifted her hair and rested his hand on her cheek, rubbing his thumb over it gently.

"I'll take that into advisement," he said.

"What are we doing anyway?" she asked. "Did Tarconi call you?"

"Yea. He said to sit tight for now."

Emily nodded, agreeing with this plan. She felt safe here. She didn't want to go back out there and risk her life again. She curled into Frank and rested her face against his chest. This was good enough for her.

...

Frank was attempting to cook something with ingredients he'd purchased earlier when he heard a noise at the door. Frowning, he went for his gun and went to look out the peephole. The door was busted in right as he stood in front of it. He cried out as he was sent backwards from the impact. He hit the floor hard, losing grip of his gun and trying to dodge flying pieces of the door that were falling after him.

"Frank?" Emily said, coming into view. If he wasn't so preoccupied with an incoming attack, he'd have noticed how good she looked in that dress.

"GET OUT!" he bellowed. She screamed as two gunmen came through the door and turned to run back down the hall. Frank tried to go for his gun, but he was kicked by one of the gunmen hard, which winded him. He tried to grab their leg to bring them down, but he missed. He was trying to get up when he heard a gun click behind him.

"I'd stay down, if I were you," a voice said. He turned to see a woman standing there with a gun aimed at his head. Her brown hair was in a tight bun, her delicate features hardened into almost a scowl.

"You're not taking her," Frank said roughly, getting to his feet anyway.

"You don't really get a say," she pointed out. Emily was screaming still as she was hauled into view by the two gunmen. Frank felt his stomach drop. She hadn't been able to get out.

"FRANK!" she shrieked, trying to fight them off but losing.

"Don't you touch her," Frank said menacingly to the woman. His heart felt as though it was being ripped in half at Emily's screams.

"Oh, Frank," the woman smiled. "I can do what I want."

Frank felt confused as to how this woman knew his name, but he didn't let that throw him off. He went to move when she fired a bullet over his head.

"NO!" Emily screamed.

"Next one goes in your head," the woman warned Frank. "Step aside."

"Don't let them take me, Frank," Emily begged, crying now. "Please, Frank. Don't let them take me!"

He shook with rage as he could only stand there helpless, watching. Emily was dragged out, fighting the whole way, while the woman kept her gun trained on Frank until they were gone. He waited thirty seconds before picking up his gun and giving chase.

...

"No!" Emily shouted, still kicking and scratching at her captor. "No!" They put her in the backseat, climbing in next to her. The woman got into the passenger's side while the driver put the SUV into gear. Emily twisted to look out the back window and saw Frank running after them, gun in hand. The woman saw him too.

"Oh, Frank," she sighed. She rolled down her window and stuck her upper body out of it, taking aim and firing.

"FRANK!" Emily screamed when she saw him go down. "NO!"

"I told him to stand down," the woman said after pulling herself back inside. "It's his fault he wouldn't listen."

"You killed him," Emily cried. "You killed him!"

The woman didn't respond, and Emily broke down sobbing as they sped away, her heart completely shattered.

...

Tarconi was humming to himself as he pulled the car into the driveway to the safe house. He was bringing some more food and doing a check in on Frank and Emily. He frowned as he noticed skid marks in the driveway.

"Oh, this can't be good," he muttered. He parked and got out, noticing some blood on the driveway and a trail leading to the house. That really didn't look good.

"Frank?" he called, entering. "It's me."

He didn't hear anything, so he did a walk around. He noticed first aid supplies on the counter in the bathroom and more blood. He did not have a very good feeling about this.

"Frank?" he called again. Still no answer. His phone rang as he got back to the kitchen. "Hello?"

"It's me," Frank said. "They took Emily."

"Who did?"

"I don't know. Some woman and her goons," Frank answered.

"Woman?"

"Yes. Tall, brown hair, and pissed off."

"Where are you?" Tarconi asked.

"I'm trying to find them."

"And how are you doing that?"

"I put a tracking device on Emily's watch in case she disappeared again."

"Ah," Tarconi said. "I see." Smart man. He learned from his mistakes.

"I'll call with her location, and you can help me get her out again," Frank said.

"Okay."

Frank hung up on him then, and Tarconi looked at his phone with a chuckle. Those people were in for some fresh hell.

...

Emily was still crying when she was put into the chair at the new location she was brought to. The woman sat down across from her and leaned on the table.

"Emily," she said sternly. "Stop crying."

"You killed him," Emily said again. "You killed Frank."

"Do you know why you're here, Emily?" the woman asked, ignoring her.

"No," Emily snapped. "I don't. And I'm sick of people trying to kill me! If you're going to do it, then just do it already!"

"I'm not going to kill you, Emily, but there is someone out there who does want you dead," the woman said. Emily stared at this woman, not understanding. If she wasn't going to kill her, then why did she kidnap her?

"I don't know who you are," she said. "I don't know why you took me and killed Frank if you're not going to kill me."

"Frank is fine," the woman said, sighing loudly. "I shot him to wound him, not kill him. Can we focus on what is important here?"

Emily felt hope then. If Frank was alive, then he'd find her. She knew he would.

"What's important?" she asked, figuring she might as well play along.

"There is a man we've been trying to get for a very long time," the woman said, pulling out a photo and setting it on the table in front of Emily. "Do you recognize him at all?"

Emily stared at the photograph, and something was niggling in the back of her brain. She just couldn't figure it out.

"No," she said. The woman sighed again and sat back in her chair.

"That man is the one trying to kill you," she told Emily.

"Why? I don't know him."

"Your father did," the woman said, and Emily stiffened at this.

"My real father? The one who was killed?"

"Yes."

"You knew my father?"

"I did," the woman answered, her face changing a little. Emily noticed it looked a little softer. She also noticed something familiar about this woman's face. The longer she looked at her, the more Emily was beginning to realize something.

"You," she said, pointing. "It's you."

Her mind flashed back to the memory of her supposed mother walking out the door when Emily was young and never looking back. She stared at this woman now, feeling shocked and almost horrified.

"Yes," the woman nodded. "It's me."

"What happened to Da-Charlie?" Emily asked, catching herself. She felt confused.

"He's fine."

"Where is he?"

"In a safe place. You were also supposed to be in a safe place, but we've been breached, and somehow your information was given to this guy," the woman said, tapping her finger on the photograph of the man. "And he took out my team and was waiting for you in Marseille. It would appear he took out a local police team too recently."

"Why was I sent with Frank?" Emily asked, wanting to know. The woman snorted.

"Charlie thought it would be a good idea. I disagreed, but he never listened to me about anything," she replied.

"You've been in contact with him?" Emily asked. "For how long?"

"Since the day I left," the woman answered, tilting her head a little. Emily stared at her.

"I...I don't understand," she said. Her head hurt, actually.

"Let me start at the beginning," the woman said. "My name is Holly Taylor."

Emily felt the room start to spin a little, and her hearing went muffled. Her mind flashed back to the image Tarconi had on his computer screen of her dead parents: William and Holly Taylor.

"No," she said. "No, no. You're not Holly Taylor."

"Yes, Emily, I am."

"Holly Taylor is dead. I saw her picture," Emily insisted. The woman gave an impatient sound in her throat.

"What you saw is not what you saw," she countered.

"I am so confused right now," Emily said, her head hurting even more.

"William Taylor was involved in things he should not have been," the woman continued. "It was an unfortunate accident that my sister, Haley, had been there when he got murdered, and my sister was murdered too. They mistook her for me, you see. I arrived in time to save you, and I took you to live with my brother, Charlie Charlton. He took over being your father, and I left to keep you both safe, to find this man and finish it once and for all."

Emily stared at her, her brain going a million miles an hour. Then, of all things, her dream came to mind. Only now, it wasn't a dream after all. It was a memory. She had seen her father and aunt get killed, and her mother had lifted her up out of the way and took her from the house to the car. The rest was a blur after that. She'd forgotten what her real father had looked like and had always assumed Charlie was her father. It made her head hurt.

"Charlie is my uncle?"

"Yes."

"Who is this man? The one trying to kill me?" Emily asked, looking at the photo again.

"He is Jeremiah Fisher," Holly answered. "Arms dealer. Drug trafficker. Human trafficker. You name it."

"And my real father was dealing with him and got killed for it," Emily clarified.

"Yes. I had no idea until afterwards."

"And who are you? I mean, you have all this firepower and know about Frank and knew where to find us...you must have connections."

"I'm CIA," Holly answered. "Always have been."

"Oh my God," Emily said, rubbing her eyes. It was all too much. There was a crash down the hall followed by men shouting. Holly looked towards the noise and sighed once more.

"That would be Frank, wouldn't it?" she asked Emily.

"He always finds me," Emily answered. "He takes his job very seriously."

"Of course. I should have known," Holly said, getting up. She opened the door, and Emily followed her quickly. They found Frank in the midst of fighting three guys at once. Emily had never felt so relieved to see him okay. Holly aimed her gun at the ceiling and fired twice, making everyone stop moving for a second, long enough for Frank to see Emily standing there.

"Enough!" Holly shouted. "That's enough."

"Emily," Frank said. Holly cut him off before he could continue.

"Emily is having a chat with me right now," she said. "If you sit down quietly and wait your turn, we can chat next, and we can all get caught up and stop beating the shit out of one another. Sound good?"

"I don't understand," Frank said, looking confused. Emily didn't wait for permission. She walked over to him and threw her arms around him tightly, holding him close.

"I'm okay, Frank," she said to him. "I'll explain in a bit."

He put his hands on her waist and moved her back a little, examining her.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes," she nodded.

"I'm sorry I shot you, Frank," Holly said. "I was trying to keep you out of this."

"You only brought me into this further," Frank growled at her.

"I see that," Holly nodded. "You'll get all your answers in a moment. Come, Emily. We must finish our conversation."

"Emily," Frank said again, tightening his grip on her.

"It's okay," Emily promised. "She's my mother."

"Wha-?"

"I'll explain later," Emily said quickly. "Okay?"

"I...okay," Frank said, still looking confused. Emily reluctantly released Frank and followed Holly back to the room.

"He certainly doesn't know when to stand down, does he?" Holly asked as they sat again.

"That's what I love about him," Emily replied. "Now, hurry up and tell me the rest so we can go bring him up to speed."

...

Frank's head was spinning. Emily's mother? It didn't make any sense. He was still very much pissed off that she'd shot him too. It had nicked his side, not enough to cause significant damage but enough to knock him down and require bandaging up afterwards. He stood glowering at the three men he'd been fighting with until Emily's mother stopped them. They were giving him stony glances in return, the feeling mutual.

When Emily came back out, he turned to face her.

"Are you really okay?" she asked him.

"I'm fine," he answered. "What's going on?"

"She said to send you back," Emily replied, gesturing. Frank paused for a second before going down the hallway. When he found the woman sitting and waiting for him, he entered and sat down across from her.

"Frank Martin," she said. "I'm sorry we had to meet like this."

"Who are you, and how do you know about me?" Frank asked. She chuckled.

"I'm Holly Taylor," she answered. "And I know about you because my brother told me about you."

"Charlie Charlton," Frank said, realizing.

"You're a quick study," Holly noted. "He said that about you."

"Why did he ask me to take Emily to Marseille?" Frank asked.

"To meet me," she replied. "But that got all bunged up, of course."

"Is he in trouble? Is Emily collateral damage?" He had a feeling Emily was the target, but he needed to confirm it.

"No, it's Emily they're after."

"Why?"

"Long story short, her father did something bad, and he got killed for it, and Emily wasn't supposed to survive, but I got there in time to save her."

"You're supposed to be dead," Frank said, remembering.

"Twin sister," Holly said, waving her hand dismissively. Frank still felt confused, but he didn't care about her life story. He cared about Emily's.

"What's the plan?" he asked.

"I've been after Jeremiah Fisher for a long time," Holly said. "And I now know how I'm going to get him, but you're not going to like it."

"No," Frank said immediately. "Absolutely not."

"You already know what I'm suggesting, don't you?" Holly asked.

"She's not bait," Frank said angrily.

"She has willingly offered to do it," Holly told him. "She wants this over as much as I do."

"I won't allow it."

"Oh, Frank. It's not up to you," Holly sighed. "As of this moment, you're free to go. You did your job, which was deliver her to me. Your contract is over, so this is where we part ways."

"No," Frank said stubbornly.

"What? Did you fall in love with my daughter? Does that always happen with your job? If it does, you're gonna want to rethink your career."

"You're not going to dangle her in front of him like that," Frank insisted, ignoring the comment.

"It's going to be fine. I've done this hundreds of times," Holly countered, giving him a level stare. "Now please, take yourself and leave. Don't make me shoot you again because I will."

Frank ground his jaw as he got to his feet. He turned and walked away, formulating a plan in his mind. Emily hurried towards him when he came into the room.

"Well?" she asked.

"My services are no longer needed," he answered. "I was told to leave."

"What? No!"

"I don't really feel like being shot again," he said. "And I know she'll live up to that promise. I'm sorry, Emily."

"You told me you wouldn't leave me, that you'd keep me safe!" she exclaimed.

"I'm not, and I will," he promised. "I'm just doing what I'm told for right now."

Emily turned to see Holly standing there watching. She looked back at Frank.

"Don't go," she begged.

"He has to," Holly said, making them both look at her now.

"He doesn't!"

"Emily, calm down," Holly said, exasperated.

"It'll be fine," Frank told Emily, putting a hand on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze before walking towards the door. He made it five yards down the driveway before Emily caught up to him. She grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Frank," she said, pulling him around to face her. "What are you doing? Why are you just walking away?"

He put both hands on her shoulders now and met her gaze.

"It'll be fine," he said again. "Trust me."

"Wait, do you...do you have a plan?" she asked.

"I always have a plan," he answered with a small smile.

"Okay," she nodded, looking instantly relieved. "So this isn't goodbye?"

He kissed her in response, pulling her in close. He cradled her head while she gripped his back tightly. When he pulled back, he saw Holly watching from the doorway with a bemused expression. He ignored her.

"It's not," he promised. "I'll see you soon."

"Okay," she nodded again. He cupped her face briefly before letting go and stepping back from her. He could feel her watching him as he walked away. He tried not to feel scared for her. If his plan worked, then he knew she'd be okay.