"Well done," the woman said approvingly. "Natalie, by the way. I'm on your side. The computer cards will be tough. Luciano is notorious for unique security solutions. The cards themselves, for example."

"Yeah, well, I've got a little time to dig through this place and find them. I imagine the several million euro incentive will help with that," Lorna snorted. "He told me about a freezer compartment that could have them, but honestly there could also be a bomb in there for all I know. I'll start by sending a message to Moriarty with as much information this place will cough up, then I'll see if anyone wants that money as much as I suspect. Can I send anything out of this room, or is it too secure for that?"

Natalie shook her head. "Too secure. Nothing connects to here from the outside world except for short-range radios and closed-circuit surveillance. Even mobiles don't work in here. Your best bet is to go to Luciano's office. He has the best access."

Lorna sighed but nodded. "Alright. Will you take me there?" She'd prefer not to look too alone, not while things here were fragile.

"Of course, ma'am," Natalie said, before jerking her chin toward the men. "What about them?"

Lorna pointed the gun at the both of them, smiling pleasantly. "They're going to take a walk, aren't they? C'mon boys, out. If I see you again today you're dead. Walk in the opposite direction as myself and Natalie here, understood?"

"Understood," one said, while the other nodded quickly, and they both exited quickly, disappearing down the hall. Natalie indicated the opposite direction.

"This way."

Lorna walked with Natalie, gun still in her hands. They passed a few people in the hall, but nobody tried to stop them - they just shrank back into the walls with nervous movements. Lorna wondered if this was what it felt like to be Sebastian.

Natalie led them through to Luciano's office, and opened the door for Lorna, inclining her head slightly. "There's a phone on the desk. Do you want me to guard the door?"

"That'd be excellent," Lorna nodded, slinging the strap of the rifle over her back. "Call if someone approaches. Anton is with us, he may try to find us," she added, just so they avoided any misunderstandings. Then she took a deep breath, and she picked up the phone, and dialed Jim's personal number.

Jim glanced at the number for only a moment. Luciano's personal line, if information coming across his desk was correct. It usually was. He picked up. "Hello Harrison."

"Hi, Jim," she said as Natalie walked out of the room. "I've gone ahead and claimed Luciano's holdings as yours and offered everyone willing a job. I figure if you want the rest dead, won't be hard to track them down - I just need a sizable population working for me rather than against me, you know?" She sighed, leaning her hip against the desk a little, looking out the window. It looked deceptively peaceful out there.

"Is he dead?" he asked, eyes narrowed suddenly as he stood, starting to turn the situation over. Who would have stepped into the situation? Some minor lordling, jealous and unassociated with the current politics... Possibly. But it didn't sit right.

"Oh yeah, very," she nodded, tapping her finger idly against the desktop. "Shot by an unknown party, but I finished him off. I thought maybe it could have been you, or Mycroft. Armetti, maybe." She shrugged. "Not important to me right now. I've offered a reward for a key to Luciano's computer banks, and I need them before his outlying networks liquidize too much. I hope they won't, with word spreading that you're the new owner, not Mycroft."

"It wasn't me, obviously. I doubt Holmes would sabotage his own operation that way, though he does have a sadistic side. I'll find out. Keep me informed. I want this whole thing resolved as quickly as possible. Time is short."

"I know," she said, with as little emotion as she could manage. She knew. "If all goes according to plan, I'll be out of here by today, and they'll give us the liver. Or the woman it's in. His mother, Christ..." she sighed. "Alright, I gotta go, unless there's something urgent?"

"Nothing more urgent than what you are doing. Go. Call if you need anything. It will be provided immediately." He hung up.

She set the phone back on its stand. She didn't know if she'd have another chance to call him before Mycroft got his hands on her again, and she didn't know if she'd be kept prisoner again, either. There were a lot of unknowns. She adjusted her gun again and headed into the hall, meeting Natalie at the door. "Call made. Time for us to search Luciano's quarters. We'll hit the freezer he mentioned as a last resort, but I imagine someone will find what we need before it comes to that."

"Yes ma'am," she said with a nod, turning to lead the way.

They reached Luciano's quarters and Natalie entered the security code to unlock the door, entering and clearing the room ahead of Lorna. Lorna nodded thanks as she passed Natalie, and began the work of tearing apart the place, looking for the damn cards. She hoped that reward came through for them - she wasn't holding out hope that she could find it on her own. And she desperately, desperately needed this to go well.

The card ended up being found more quickly than anyone expected. The pool boy found Lorna and said that occasionally he was asked to drain the jacuzzi outside of the usual schedule, quickly dismissed, and called to refill it a few hours later. He drained it and- after a few long minutes, Natalie was the one to find the compartment under the lining.

Lorna felt abject relief as Natalie came up with the cards in a plastic bag, and after asking the young man's age, planted a kiss on his cheek and promised several million euros were on their way to him as soon as she got the fuck out of there. She promised the same to Natalie - a job was not payment enough for saving her husband's life, however indirectly. It was strange, thinking that all the times she'd been in the jacuzzi, the cards had been right beneath her. She stifled a sigh, and asked Natalie to lead the way back to the office.

Once there, she dialed the number Mycroft had given her, and waited while the phone rang, the cards clutched tight in her off hand. She wasn't putting them down until she had somebody relatively trustworthy to hand them off to.

"Yes," came the chronically bored voice of Mycroft Holmes. "What is it?"

"Luciano is dead and his computers are yours to ravage. I have the analog cards that unlock the stupid thing. Please send someone to relieve me of them and send Moran's mother in serviceable condition to Jim's people immediately," Lorna said firmly, staring hard at the wall in front of her as if she was looking at Mycroft himself. "Is that enough? Will you let me go?" He had to - unless he had something worse up his sleeve - but she needed to know, had to make sure.

"Once I am assured that you have actually delivered, yes," he said calmly. "My people will be to you within ten minutes. Do try not to shoot them. Good day, Mrs. Moran. Lovely working with you." The line went dead.

She grit her teeth slightly as he called her Mrs. Moran. It wasn't his to use. She hardly wanted Jim to use it, if she was being honest. Yes, Moran was her husband, and there wasn't any universe where she'd have it any other way, but her name was her's. She'd made it into something grander than the sum of its parts with her work, with the things she'd done, with the people she'd killed. Sebastian was the only one who got to call her anything differently, as far as she was concerned.

She slammed the phone down onto its charging stand as Mycroft hung up, fuming, and pulled her rifle from her back to her front. "Come on, Natalie," she said as she passed the woman guarding the door. "We have some people to meet and lightly graze in ten minutes. We'll greet them at the front door."

Mycroft sent three emissaries to do his business. Lorna shot the first one to speak (it was barely a graze, she was pleased to say in regards to her marksmanship) and smiled doing it, but then led the three rather quietly into the villa. The criminals living here didn't need to know that she was marching a government's cronies through their base. They might get a little testy. She ran into Anton by the barn, where he had apparently been waiting for her. "Lorna!" He greeted as she walked up, though his eyes went warily to Natalie and Mycroft's goons. She waved him off.

"It's fine, Anton. Thanks for your help. Wouldn't be here without you. You four," she looked at the small crowd following her. "Go check the computers. Do what you came here to do. Natalie, show them down into the barn's basement, yeah? Thanks." The other's trudged off into the barn, and Anton finally seemed to let himself smile.

"I was a little concerned for you, for a second or two. Stop showing up, giving me heart attacks, eh?" Anton chuckled, and she lightly punched his shoulder.

"I'll do my best, big guy. You want that job here, or back in London? Your pick."

He looked around a little, hands going to his hips in thought. "Here, for now. I'll see what I can do to keep things from falling apart, where I know how to do it. But call, if you need me on your silly little island. As frightening as your arrival is, you seem to leave luck behind you. For me, anyways."

She nodded. "Alright. I'll call you if things go south, yeah? Thanks again." They exchanged a quick, slapping-of-the-shoulder hug, and then Anton marched off through the field, and she ducked into the barn.

It turned out that she'd done it. She'd completed the mission successfully - checked the boxes Mycroft wanted to be checked. Maybe in the wrong order, but the result was the same, and she got the added satisfaction of knowing that the kids held by Luciano's people would be soon liberated. There were things she didn't give a shit about, and there were things she could not fucking stand, and hurting kids was one of the latter. Two of the cronies started getting to work down in the dark, and the third brought herself and Natalie back to the surface. There, she said her goodbyes to Natalie, handed her the gun, and left with the goon.

The ride from the driveway of the villa back out was surreal. She hadn't left in several weeks, and hadn't entirely known if she was ever going to. Not sitting up by her own power - avoiding a body bag. Mycroft's man drove them to a safe house, where they spent the night - him on the couch, her in the bed - and provided her with clothes that didn't have hidden dried blood on them from Luciano. The next day was the flight back to England.

It seemed that Mycroft, wherever he might have been keeping Sebastian's mother, had decided to meet his end of the deal with annoying punctuality.

"I'm sorry, she's going to be where?" Lorna asked of her escort, voice very near to shrill, on the way to the airport to fly home.

"She'll be waiting at the airport for us. Private jet provided by your boss."

Excellent. She'd be meeting Sebastian's mother in a fucking airport. Because everybody was their best while flying.

They skipped the main airport buildings, driving around to a small private hanger. A black SUV was waiting, and they parked next to it, the driver exiting and circling to open Lorna's door for her.

Inside of the hanger, two large men were waiting with a woman in her fifties. Sebastian's mother. She was surprisingly tall, with long silver hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Her eyes were dark and intelligent, watching Lorna as she approached.

Lorna wasn't sure why she'd been expecting Sebastian's mother to be short. Maybe, at the very least, she'd just been hoping for it. She'd thought on her strategy on the way here, but she'd found herself unable to come up with one. She settled on a slightly hesitant smile as she approached the tall woman. "Hi. No one's given me your name, but mine is Lorna Harrison. I'm your son's wife." She stuck her hand out, an offering for a handshake.

"Ratree," she said, taking Lorna's hand and shaking it. Her skin was cool, her grip gentle but firm. "It's nice to meet you." She had a faint accent. "I've been greatly looking forward to meeting you, and my son."

While the majority of the experiences with Moran's family in the past had been terrible to a degree that should preclude her to distrusting anybody barely related to Moran, she wanted to trust this woman. Felt emotionally safe with this woman, in a way she hadn't been with since her own mother. She tried not to be weird about the odd feeling in her chest. "It's nice to meet you, Ratree." She said sincerely. "I'm sorry it had to be under these circumstances. Let's finish catching up on the plane, and get safe and underway."

"After you," she agreed, motioning toward the boarding stairs.

Half an hour later the final turbulence of takeoff was leveling out, and Ratree accepted a glass of water from the attendant.

Lorna ordered one of those small bottles of whiskey, and took a healthy swig from it as she looked out the window at the quickly-disappearing ground. After a few minutes of silent sipping between them, though, she couldn't help herself, and squared her gaze on Ratree. "How much do you know about us? What has Holmes told you?"

"Some." She looked up to meet Lorna's gaze. "You are members of some sort of mafia, or enterprise. You are relatively well known in criminal circles. Sebastian has made something of a name for himself. So have you."

She scoffed a little, though it was in amusement, and lifted a hand to rub her eyes, chuckling softly for a moment. "Yeah, I guess you could say that," she agreed, nodding a bit and dropping her hand back to her lap. She wondered what she should tell Ratree. She was already in danger from Jim, just in existing, and she didn't want what happened to her own mother to happen to Ratree. Then again, Jim was unlikely to hurt the woman, on Sebastian's behalf, even after they had what they needed from her. She was silent for a moment, just looking at the woman who had brought Sebastian into this world, and then let out a breath. "He may have left out a few details. This isn't just a mafia, and it's more than an enterprise. We're the hands of a man who may be the most successful criminal on the planet. I haven't personally checked, mind you, but my rather meteoric rise to power ended here, and I don't see anywhere else to go, so." She shrugged gently, and took a sip of her whiskey. "In the... interest of candidness, and considering it only seems fair to equip you with some knowledge of the shit you've accidentally stepped into..." She sighed. "I killed Riordan. He fucking deserved it, trust me, but there you go. I'd be happy to go into it if you want to, I'm not sure how much you cared for the bastard. On a happier note, you have a grandchild. She's in the business, too. Not mine, before we get confused."

Ratree's eyes narrowed with concentration as she processed the information that Lorna was slinging her way. When she mentioned killing Riordan, though, she smiled just slightly, and the expression stayed.

"I had no fondness for Riordan. He paid for my services and, in a rather unprecedented line of thinking, decided that that payment covered whatever resulted. Namely, Sebastian. I was drugged in the hospital a few hours after I had him. When I came to, I was informed that social services had removed him from my custody and given him to his father due to my 'lifestyle.' Riordan pulling strings. All perfectly legal, and the last I saw of my son, despite my best efforts. I'm thrilled to hear the bastard is dead."

Lorna smiled, though her hand was clenched around the arm of her chair as she learned that Riordan had had a worse pattern than she'd thought. She was angry, despite herself, despite that there was nothing to be done about it anymore. Riordan was dead - she'd made sure of that. Sometimes, she wished she'd killed him slower. "Well, good, I'd hate for that to be the snag in our relationship," Lorna managed a half second later than what would have avoided being awkward. "I'm sorry that happened, though. Though I'd probably never have met him, had it gone differently."

"Probably not," she agreed with a nod. "You said something about a grandchild?"

"Keira. She's old enough to hold a gun, not sure past that." She smiled, trying to ease the hard feeling in her chest.

She nodded a little, leaning back in her seat and sipping her water. "What is he like? Sebastian?"

Lorna smiled without really meaning to, looking down at her little bottle of whiskey while she tried not to be so amused at the possibilities she could tell Ratree. "He's a dangerous asshole, but he's my dangerous asshole. He's..." she shrugged a little, more serious now. "I don't know. He's... Strong. A fighter, through-and-through. He's dedicated, in many different ways. He's a good cook. He's smart. Oh, and, just so you don't stare by accident - he's covered in scars. Carpeted in them. Some people aren't prepared."

"Carpeted?" the woman asked, her accent turning the word over carefully before it was offered. "How do you mean? Why?"

She clicked her tongue. "His sister, indirectly. She locked him in a cellar for three months, he went briefly a little insane, carved himself up to keep himself alive. It's my understanding it's an Irish children's rhyme, but I can't read it. So about every square inch of him is... yeah. Carpeted in scars."

"Sister?" she mouthed, but didn't ask, piecing the obvious together for herself. She shook her head slightly, then shrugged. "Thank you for telling me. I am glad to be prepared. Though... From what I have been told, it may be a bit more than scarring that is wrong...?"

"Wrong?" She shrugged. "I mean, you know about the cancer. He's had a finger cut off, but the reattachment was a success, so kinda nothing to talk about there."

"Cancer," she said quietly, her expression tightening just a little. "No, I hadn't known. Mr. Holmes was unwilling to explain. But I suppose that makes sense."

Lorna scuffed her shoe a little on the floor, an angry movement, but nodded. "Of course he didn't explain. Did Holmes tell you we desperately need a partial liver transplant because the treatment is making his body shut down?"

"No," Ratree said. She was quiet for a moment, but then nodded slightly. "It does make sense, though. He said I was needed. He didn't say why. Medical reasons make sense. I was surprised he reached out at all, after so long. How did you find me?"

Lorna silently cursed Mycroft again. What an arse. "I don't know how we found you, I wasn't involved. Mycroft had you first, not us. We can find almost anyone, but..." She shook her head a little. "We weren't really looking for you. I guess I assumed you were dead. Never occurred to me that you might be a match, but also I wasn't there when Sebastian declined to this point. Much as I would have liked to have been."

"Where were you?" she asked, eagerly taking the track away from the imminent surgery she hadn't been expecting.

Lorna let out a slightly amused sigh, rubbing her eyes for a moment as she decided whether or not to tell Ratree anything about Euros. Was she more in danger knowing or not knowing? She decided to let Jim decide what information was safe to share, and went for a middle answer. "I was on a mission with one of Mycroft's men against a common foe. Was there for several weeks, and when we were done there, Mycroft took me into custody with you as the carrot on the stick to motivate me. So..." she shrugged slightly. "I've been gone for maybe a couple of months. I'm not even entirely sure how bad Sebastian's condition has become since then. Jim sounded urgent, though, which is never good."

She nodded, sipping her water. "I'll help. I won't give you all any trouble. I missed the chance to see my son grow up. I would like to get to know him, if he lives, and will let me."

The smaller woman gave a slightly tired smile, one of something similar to relief. "I appreciate it. You may have a better shot than you would have had before me and Keira came in and persistently tore down the walls his father helped him put up. I'll try to put in a good word." While she desperately, desperately wanted this woman to be what she appeared to be - which was a mother looking to reconnect with her son, and not a mother convinced to spy on the network by Holmes - she knew that if it turned out that Ratree did not truly have their best interests at heart, she would kill her. She hoped it didn't come to that.

Her expression tensed. "I don't want to know how Riordan raised him, do I?" she asked, though she looked like she could guess.

"No, probably not," she agreed, steadily, eyes meeting Ratree's without flinching. "But I would consider telling you, if you wanted to know, just so he doesn't have to dreg that shit back from where he's buried it. At the very least - it was inhumane. You wouldn't treat an animal the way Riordan treated him."

She considered that. "I am not sure," she decided. "But if I decide I want to know, I will ask you rather than him. Will that do?"

"It will for me. I might run it by him, to make sure he doesn't want it private, but," she shrugged, sighing a little, "Depends on if he's... conscious." She was trying to steel herself to seeing Sebastian in this condition. She knew that it was bad, from the files Mycroft had given her several weeks ago, but it was a far cry from seeing him in person. God, she missed him. Even seeing him sick would be a balm, honestly.

Ratree seemed to take that for what it was, nodding a little, once, and returning to her drink. Lorna did the same, and let herself be consumed by her worried thoughts.

When I'm quiet on the other side
Know that I'm loving you, that's all I do
Is keep loving you
You're fine, my love, never mind 'cause I'm here

- Foster The People - Lamb's Wool -

A/N You can guess what might happen next time :)