Real life is mean, that's all I can say!

Scott hadn't been pacing for long when he paused. Something wasn't right. Years of looking out for his brothers in the most dangerous situations meant that Scott knew when to listen to his instincts. He felt it for all of them, but couldn't deny he had more of a connection with Virgil. They both felt it – each knew when the other was in trouble.

And right now, Scott was convinced that Virgil was in real danger! He couldn't stay here, pacing. He had to get out and help his brother.

But he hadn't even reached the door when his father seemed to come out of nowhere, physically blocking his way and wearing an expression that told Scott that he wasn't leaving. The son tried to push forward again, but was stopped by a hand to his chest.

"You're not going out there, Scott."

Scott saw his father's phone clutched tightly in his hand and he wondered if the man would call the police on him as well.

"You can't stop me."

"Don't be an idiot!"

Scott almost stepped back at his father's snap, realising in those few words just how much this was getting to the man. But even as he watched, his father lifted the phone again. Scott knew he wasn't the only one feeling frustrated – Virgil should have been back by now and they both knew better than to hope he was just taking the scenic route.

Scott backed away from the door, knowing that if he distracted his father now, it would take longer for help to arrive. He moved back across to the balcony, wondering if he would be able to see Virgil from up there.

The street below appeared deserted.

Scott swore and moved back into the room. His father had turned away, talking frantically on the phone. Scott glanced at the door, then back at his dad. He knew how furious the man would be. But there was no other option.

He knew Virgil was in trouble. He felt it. Everything they had been through together over the years made him pay attention to that feeling.

He moved silently across the room, holding his breath as he inched the door open. His father didn't notice. With one final guilty look at the man, Scott slipped through and ran down the corridor.

It didn't matter how many times he jabbed the button on the elevator, it still moved with excruciating slowness, first in arriving at his floor, then descending to the lobby.

Scott froze for a moment once he reached the lobby, chewing his lip in uncertainty. Virgil was out there, but Scott didn't know where. If he went the wrong way, it would cost time. Time his brother may not have.

But before he could decide what to do, there came a sound that made his blood run cold. A sound he knew too well, after hearing it for months in his nightmares.

Gunshots.

Scott was out onto the street, the door revolving wildly behind him, before he realised that he was unarmed and on his own. People were running, screams filling the air as they tried to flee the scene. Scott no longer had to think about where to go – he went in the opposite direction to everyone else.

"Move!" No one heeded him as Scott shoved his way through the crowds, cursing as they hindered his progress. A man tried to grab him in his panic, yelling something incomprehensible, but Scott shoved him away and pushed through.

Eventually, the crowds cleared and Scott saw why. There was a car parked sideways, blocking the street. There was no one in it, or even nearby. Scott glanced at it before his attention was grabbed again.

There was a commotion further up the street and Scott hurried forward. Instinct kicked in. There would be no frightened by-stander waiting for him, not this time. He kept close to the walls, letting the shadows conceal him even as he ran.

There was a second car and Scott swore, skidding to a stop when he realised it was a cop car, littered with bullet holes. Two figures were slumped in the front. Scott's breath caught, emotions swelling in him. They had been sent to protect Virgil. If the Tracys hadn't come to the mainland, if Scott had just been able to control the nightmares… Guilt surged and for a second, Scott stood rooted to the spot.

An angry and defiant voice cut through to Scott and he cursed again. His feelings had been right: Virgil was right in the middle of the fight. He looked around the car, and suddenly saw his brother.

Virgil was surrounded, held down on his knees. But Scott only had the chance to take one more step before a gun collided with the back of Virgil's head and he fell.

Scott moved, not caring if he was seen. There was only one thought locked into his head: get to Virgil. He scrambled to get past the car, sliding over the hood in one fluid movement. But he was too slow. Two men had already hoisted Virgil up. Scott's guilt disappeared and anger coursed through him. His heart thudded painfully and Scott couldn't breathe. His anger was great, but his fear was greater. He couldn't move, watching his worst nightmare play out before his eyes.

It was obvious from the way Virgil hung limply in their grasp that he had not only been knocked out, he had been bound as well.

"Hey!" Anger flashed through Scott and he broke free of his paralysis.

The men all looked back at him. One yelled an order and instantly, the rest of the men all raised their guns towards Scott. He didn't notice, watching as the men dumped Virgil in a trunk of a third car before they got in themselves.

Scott glimpsed the plates and tried to move forward but was forced to dive away, sheltering behind the corner of a building as bullets ricocheted off the brickwork inches from his face. Scott dropped into a crouch, hands clenched and body tense. He needed to be going after the car – even over the guns, he could hear an engine – but knew stepping out would result in injury, if not death. They were holding him at bay and there was nothing Scott could do about it.

A squeal of tyres announced the arrival of the cops. They returned fire and Scott stood, inching his way back around the wall. It was too late though. The alley where the car had been parked was deserted.

Virgil was gone.

Scott was supposed to be the Field Commander of International Rescue, but right now, he couldn't even save his own brother.

Eventually, the firing stopped and a scuffle broke out. Scott moved in a daze, ignoring the officers motioning for him to stay back. He barely noticed the three men dead in the street or the others being handcuffed and escorted back up the road. His vision tunnelled until all he could see was the empty alley.

He crouched, fingers brushing over the tarmac. There was no visible tyre print. Brains or John might have picked something up, but they weren't here. Scott was the one here – and he had failed.

"Scott?"

The quiet voice behind him made him turn. His father was standing there and Scott felt he was looking in a mirror; the same fear and fury was etched into his father's weary expression.

"I'm going to find him. And I'm going to kill him," Scott vowed softly, knowing his father would understand.

"We don't know…"

"…it was him? They took my brother, Dad. The same day he happened to get out? You've never believed in coincidences before, don't start now. Not when Virgil's life is on the line."

Scott didn't voice what else was going through his mind. They hadn't taken him. He had been vulnerable – he had stood there frozen for long enough! If it was a normal kidnapping, they would know two hostages were better than one.

There was one person, however, who would know what taking Virgil would do to Scott.

Jeff moved closer and Scott winced at the tight grip on his arm. He had underestimated his father's emotions.

"Don't suggest I think this is chance! I'm just trying to think of the facts, Scott. The whole city is on alert for him; he can't just saunter into town and not be recognised. You need to think clearly. You won't find Virgil if you blind yourself to other options."

His father let go and moved towards the cops. Scott felt helpless. He should have moved quicker, taken them down and helped Virgil, rather than just standing there watching as his brother disappeared.

Police had begun to cordon off the area, forcing the crowds to disperse. Scott scoffed in disgust – they had run away when there was danger, now they were flooding the area, keen to see the aftermath.

Scott had no idea what his father had said to the cops, but he entered the building unchallenged. It felt surreal walking back into the penthouse, knowing everything had changed. His father was standing on the balcony again and Scott knew by the rigid set to his shoulders to leave him be.

He sank onto the sofa instead, running his fingers through his hair. He tried to pull himself together so when the cops started asking their questions, the words that escaped him wouldn't get him arrested.

How could this have happened?

He knew coming to the mainland had been a bad idea; he had had a bad feeling ever since his father told him he was going. Everyone thought it was because he was being forced to face the dreams – and, ultimately, his past – but it had been more than that. Scott hadn't understood himself, but now he knew. Coming to the mainland had just made everything ten times worse.

His fingers ghosted over his watch, but Scott didn't press anything. He knew the others needed to be told, needed to be protected. With Brains on Five, Scott didn't even have the reassurance one of his brothers was beyond Blag's reach by being in space.

But he had no idea what to do or say. Not this time.

He needed a lead. Something, anything, that would give him a clue to tracking his brother.

Jeff sat stiffly on the sofa, not moving as he watched the cops mill around the penthouse. The only reason he hadn't thrown them all out by now was that Matt had arrived and taken charge, despite wearing casual clothes and looking just as harrowed as Jeff felt. The pair hadn't had a chance to talk, not properly, but Jeff knew the detective wouldn't let his men ask the wrong questions.

Scott was asleep in the next room, but through no choice of his own. Paramedics had turned up shortly after the cops, and once someone had let slip Scott had been in the midst of the action, they had insisted on checking him over. Finding out they were dealing with the Tracy family meant they weren't taking no as an option – they wouldn't risk their jobs, or the hospital as a whole, if they backed down and Jeff pressed charges.

He knew what his son was like though, knew that Scott wouldn't mention if he had been injured in the fight now that his mind was fixed on Virgil. He wouldn't even tell his father. Jeff had told his son to let the paramedics do their job, just to put his own mind at rest. Once he had been given the all-clear, though, the paramedic had given Scott something to help him sleep. They clearly believed that the playboy son of a billionaire couldn't handle that type of shock. Jeff would have laughed at the look on Scott's face if he could.

Scott had thrown the tablets away but Jeff had picked them up. He had quickly read the instructions before dissolving the tablets into a glass of water and pressing it into Scott's hand. His son had downed it automatically.

Jeff only just got his boy into bed, ignoring the accusing glares, before Scott had slipped under. It had been a cheap trick on his part, but Jeff knew that neither of them were going to get much rest until Virgil was back, so if Scott could at least sleep now, it was something. He wouldn't be able to handle the endless questions without doing something he regretted.

Matt walked stiffly across the room from where he had been talking into his phone, dismissing a few men lingering too close with just a look, and sat down opposite Jeff.

"One of them started speaking," he said softly, referring to the men who had been taken into custody. "They aren't saying much; they're more afraid of someone other than us. But he let slip a name, something Russian."

Jeff sat up straighter, his interest piqued as he thought back to what John had said when his son had reported the breakout. He wasn't sure how much he could remember – he had stopped paying attention as soon as John had told him Blag was out.

"Wasn't...?"

"One of the other men broken out with Blag, Russian? Yes."

Jeff sat back slowly, running his hand through his hair and blowing out a breath, glancing at Scott's shut door.

"So just because Blag hasn't entered the city doesn't mean that he isn't behind it?"

"I hoped they'd give me a lead on a local gang. We could storm in and find a sheepish Virgil apologising for being caught unaware," Matt muttered. He looked as exhausted as Jeff felt. "But I don't think that is what we are dealing with. The nationality alone is enough for it to link back to Blag. Especially given your past with him."

"It doesn't make sense though," Jeff protested. But he didn't believe his own words: he agreed with Matt. He wanted to believe it was a local gang – Virgil could handle himself, after all. But he knew it wasn't true. "How could he know that we're in New York?"

Matt frowned, thinking through what he had been told. Eventually, he shook his head.

"Did you hire a car from the airstrip?"

Jeff frowned. He knew Matt knew the answer to that; they did it every time. It was one thing leaving the plane there for the few days, even if the media got wind that the Tracys were in town. It had proven to be too much hassle to keep a car as well, so when Gordon had written off the last one, Jeff had refused to buy a new one. For the sake of spending a little money hiring a car now and again, it was a lot less stress.

"Did you use your own name?"

"What other name would I use?" Jeff asked, but he knew where this was going. Judging by the look on Matt's face, he was thinking the same.

"You think he had people watching out for us, just in case?"

"If he knew your business meetings took place in New York, he knew you would come eventually. Maybe it's just coincidence you came on the same day that he broke out? Maybe Virgil wasn't the specific target, he was just the first one to walk out on his own. They were waiting for him, Jeff. They were right outside the door; Virgil wouldn't have stood a chance whether he had been brought back by the cops or walked up himself. I think they were watching the building, they knew he was out there alone. They didn't take him on the way out because they didn't know if someone else would be coming out. They waited for him to come back."

Jeff didn't know what to say. The thought that this had been planned in advance, that it would have happened to whoever had walked out of the door – whether it be him, Virgil or Scott – and that it would have happened whether they had come now, next week or in two months' time, was terrifying.

It made Jeff feel as if they were being watched this very moment. Blag was already one step ahead and they had no proof it was even him. Matt read the helplessness on his face as he grimaced sympathetically before standing up and yelling orders for his men to move out.

How Scott slept through it, Jeff didn't know, but it made him wish that he had kept one of the tablets for himself. He knew there would be no sleep for him tonight. It wouldn't help Virgil, but he couldn't give in and rest, not while his son was missing.

By the time Jeff stirred from his musings, most of the room had been cleared.

"I want to leave someone with you, Jeff."

"No."

"But if he is watching, if he has eyes everywhere…"

"Then it won't stop him getting to us. You saw what happened to your men down there, Matt. Do you want to tell any more families that their loved ones aren't coming home? This is between us and him, and he will go through anyone to get what he wants. I won't have anyone else hurt for us."

Matt looked like he was going to protest and Jeff knew it went against his protocol to leave a victim without protection. But Jeff couldn't help it. He felt it would be playing straight into Blag's hands if more people got dragged into this. More than anything, Jeff knew what Blag was like with mind games. If he could use it against them that someone else had been hurt, then he would.

Eventually, however, the detective sighed and nodded, knowing Jeff wouldn't back down, and dismissed the last few men with just a nod.

Jeff looked up at him and smiled tightly.

"Go home, Matt. You know there is nothing more you can do tonight and your family needs you."

"But…"

"Go. Nicole will have both of our hides if you don't go home to her tonight."

Matt grinned, but Jeff could tell it was as forced as the light-hearted note in his own voice. It did the trick, however, for the man slowly nodded, clapped a hand on Jeff's shoulder and left.

Only when silence fell did the enormity of what was happening crash down on him. Blag was out, and already coming for them. It didn't matter that they had no solid proof yet. One Russian name and they had found a reason to link it back to him. Any other situation and Jeff knew that he would be scolding himself for making such assumptions.

Sighing, the father slowly stood up, opening Scott's door. His heart caught at realising this was the first time that he had seen Scott sleeping peacefully for a long time. He knew that it didn't count, that the drugs had taken him too far under to still be able to dream, but Jeff could only watch him for a moment before backing out and closing the door.

Then he finally allowed himself to look towards the other door, knowing that there was no Virgil behind it.

Without thinking, he threw all the cushions from the sofa onto the floor, tipping over a small coffee table with a yell. Snatching up the small lamp that had been resting on the table, Jeff flung it as hard as he could at the wall. He would have watched it fall to the floor and shatter had he not been doing the same thing himself, dropping to his knees and doubling over. There were no thoughts going through his head, no plans or ways that he was going to be able to get Virgil back. He was completely numb.

They had come here to get Scott help. It was supposed to make things better, once again put the maniac from their minds and allow them to go on doing what they did best as a family.

But instead, his entire world had just come crashing down around him, and Jeff had no idea what he was supposed to do to start fixing it.