A/N: This is on the shorter side but don't worry, it's not another filler! I think a lot happens in this chapter and I'm excited since I'm getting into the juicy stuff! I hope you guys are enjoying this fic as much as I am! I don't own svu or its characters. ENJOY!

Monday – 11:00 a.m.

The CIA had taken to setting up shop in the back of a convenient store close to the beach, near where the cruise ship had docked before it set sail back to LA.

It looked a little odd, Rita thought, without the huge ship blocking the view of the ocean, that stretched for hundreds of thousands of miles in front of the land. She enjoyed the view, though. She always enjoyed the ocean and the beach and the sound of the waves crashing on the shore. She liked the hot weather and the palm trees and the cool breezes coming off the water.

But this was making her seriously rethink everything.

Which was silly, because they were in a foreign country known to have problems with this kind of thing. Drug cartels ran rampant across Mexico, but that shouldn't change her view on places like California or Florida or the Carolina's or anywhere with beaches lining the coast.

But it was and she was finding it hard to look out at the ocean now, as she stood in front of a dirty window, watching a few boats dot the water. There was a couple parasailing high in the sky and a few kayakers headed farther down the shore, out of her sight.

She wanted to go home. She wanted this to be over and for everyone to be safe and just go home. Back to the concrete jungle where she lived and worked and thrived off the crimes of others seeking to save themselves. Her penthouse never looked so refreshing than in that moment.

"Rita, baby," Fin stepped up behind her and planted a hand on her waist. She shifted her head a little, letting him know she was listening, but her eyes never left the water. "It's too dangerous to stand out here."

She didn't respond and she didn't move. Fin squeezed her side, looking for words from her mouth. She sighed heavily and shook her head, "I'll be back there. I just need a minute. I promise."

Fin hesitated for a moment, his hand lingering, but he eventually withdrew with a quiet 'ok' and left her by the window. She glanced behind her, seeing him disappear through an old, blue swinging door. The cashier, an old, plump, dark haired woman smiled politely at her as she moved stuff around behind the counter.

Her eyes caught the corner of the store, where a dusty television screen was playing the local news, displaying pictures of some festival with a bunch of children dancing in the street, looking happy and carefree in some distant town that didn't feel the effects of the cartel. Or, maybe they did, and it was normal, and they lived their lives anyway, accepting this as part of it.

How sad it must be, to have to accept the fact that this was the way it was, and nothing was going to change that. Rita didn't ever want to experience something like that. Even with the work she did, sometimes draining and always questionable, she didn't have to live with that.

Fear…

She'd had plenty of run-ins with crazy criminals, dangerous men and women who thought they could get away with something, or really, truly, thought themselves innocent after committing a vicious felony. The closest thing to fear she ever encountered was when the verdict was coming back from the jury and her client got off, walking out of court despite the fact she knew they were 100% guilty.

This was fear she had never encountered before, and it was eating her up inside. Yet, despite that feeling, she felt useless, sitting there on the sidelines. Here she was, standing by this dirty window and staring a fucking ocean because she wasn't a cop and defense lawyers would only be a hindrance in this situation.

She just wished she could do something…

"Aye, no," she heard from behind her and turned just in time to see the short woman race around the counter and to the glass front door, quickly locking it and flipping the sign on the door. She looked shaken as she pressed her hands against it and looked outside, eyes peering towards a white van that had pulled up and parked alongside the road. Rita eyed it as well, looking back and forth between it and the obviously scared woman next to her.

"¿Que está pasando?" Rita knew a good amount of Spanish and the shock on the woman's face would have been if the woman didn't have tears in her eyes. She shook her head and pointed outside just as the back of the van opened and out poured a few men, dressed in black, smoking and talking and laughing. Rita stepped back a little when one of the men looked in at the store and nodded at her, a creepy smile spreading across his face.

She narrowed he reyes and without looking, asked the woman, "Quienes son."

She waited patiently for an answer, until the men passed and the woman visibly relaxed. Rita tilted her head and took a step forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. The woman closed her eyes as a tear escaped down her cheek.

"They are cartel," she said softly, her accent so thick but her words were clear, "They kill mi hijo…they are evil."

Rita looked back out the window, turning her head and nearly pressing her face against it to try and see where they had gone. A sudden idea formed in her mind, one that made her lip curl and her palms sweat. She suddenly felt the air in the store suffocating as she glanced back at the swinging door, where her boyfriend and her friends were, trying to come up with the best course of action to save Rafael and the kids.

But, they were wasting time, an idea that became abundantly clear earlier that morning, when that video was released of all three of them. They had watched the entire thing on the way over after Liv and Amanda begged Garver to show it to them in its entirety…it had made her sick. Seeing those poor kids, terrified, crying, with guns pointed at them…

That was when the fear set in. Not only for them, but for her and her friends. For anyone that had come down here for a good time and had fallen into the wrong place at the wrong time. That's what happened to them. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

They were wasting time back there, going over the pros and cons when what they needed was rash decisions and people who didn't stop to think. Rita stood up straight and took a soothing breath, preparing herself for what she was about to do.

She turned to the woman and smiled and then passed by her to flip open the lock. The woman grabbed her wrist with surprising strength, wide eyes with fear. Rita stopped her before she could say anything.

"It's ok. I just have to run back to the hotel to grab something. If anyone comes out and looks for me, just tell them I'll be back soon. ¿Entender?"

The woman nodded slowly and slipped her hand off her wrist. Rita nodded and smiled tightly, refusing to glance back at the door, afraid Fin was going to walk back out at any moment and stop her.

She was out in the sun in seconds, looking down the street where tourists milled about from restaurant to restaurant, bar to bar. Rita spotted them rather quickly, or rather, spotted the man who had smiled at her earlier and she quickly walked towards him, trying to look casual and lost, like any other tourist would.

She realized right away how vulnerable of a position she was putting herself in, but something had to be done. She told herself the entire walk down the street and up to the man, who was leaning against a wooden post just outside of the bar entrance, eating an apple and looking down at a phone in his hand. He looked rather intimidating, with tattoos up his arms, disappearing into his black shirt.

Rita swallowed the lump in her throat and pushed away the fear as she stopped in front of him, suppressing the shiver that raced down her spine when he looked her up and down, and smiled that creepy smile of his again.

"Can you help me? I seem to be lost."

Monday 11:30 a.m.

Rafael woke with little hands pressed against his chest, shaking him lightly and little face staring down at him. Noah was saying his name softly, his eyes red-rimmed with an almost desperate look on his face. He sat up, forcing Noah to back-up a little, but he put a hand on his head and ran his fingers through his hair.

"We're hungry."

Rafael could feel his stomach aching and gurgling with just the mere mention of food. He nodded and leaned forward to kiss Noah's head, and picked him up in his arms. Jesse was sitting on the couch, her eyes just as red as Noah's and he instantly felt terrible. He should have known something was going to happen. He should have never trusted Juan to keep his word.

Luckily, the man didn't let things get too far before they let them go, but still. It made his blood boil under his skin that he went back on his word. Of course, that was probably considered nothing when considering this was a cartel. They killed people for much less, and Rafael had no doubt that kids would be murdered without a second thought.

"Where did you get those chips last time?"

Noah pointed towards the cabinet closest to the fridge, but nothing was under there except for a few plates and some random cooking spiced. He rifled around in the cabinets above, and pulled out a box of snack cakes that were unopen, as well as jar of peanut butter and some moldy bread. Luckily, there were cans of vegetables and fruit that he only hoped the kids wouldn't fuss over too much.

"Uncle Rafa," Noah tugged on his pants, tearing his attention away from the task at hand, "When are they coming back?"

Rafael shook his head, pulling down a box of crackers before he moved on to the fridge that yielded more food than the cabinets did, "I don't know, buddy. I don't know."

"Are they gonna kill us?"

That question made him stop and he closed the fridge door so he could kneel down in front of him. He pressed his hands to Noah's face and looked him straight in his eyes.

"No. They're not. I won't let them, you understand? You and Jess are going to make it back to your mom's, I promise you that."

"What about you?"

He didn't know how to answer that. Worst case scenario, in his book, he would wind up dead and buried out in the middle of the desert somewhere. His mind wouldn't even entertain the idea that the little boy in front of him and the little girl on the couch wouldn't make it back to their mother's. If things were truly looking bleak for them, he would make almost certain that Noah and Jesse would be saved.

"Don't worry about that," he said softly and stood back up, refusing to look back at Noah. "Go sit down and I'll make you some food, ok?"

He could see Noah nod out of the corner of his eye and turn to walk away slowly. Only until after he could hear the rustling of clothes and the couch creak under his weight did Rafael resume what he was doing, rummaging through the fridge to find something else to eat.

It was nearing 1 p.m. by the time Rafael decided to stop dozing in and out of sleep and actually search deeper into the small house. There wasn't much of it, and not very much to dig around in, but he was feeling stir crazy and trying to keep up with the shitty telenovela that barely showed up on the screen had bored him to the point of no return.

He was also sitting on pins and needles, waiting for the moment the door would open and he would be subjected to another video of them beating him or pointing guns at his head. The cuts on his face were still fresh and the bruising around his eye had faded just a little, with outer ring turning a sickly yellow almost over night. Luckily, he wasn't dealing with anything broken…yet.

He left Noah and Jesse passed out on the couch and bypassed the prison, deciding to inspect the bathroom first. It was dirsty, he knew that, and the water pressure sucked, but eventually, the kids were going to need baths, which he was not looking forward to. The toilet was usable and, thankfully, problema free. He had to help Jesse use it a few times, because she wasn't fully potty trained, and that was an ordeal in and of itself.

The kitchen was next, although he pretty much had already been through everything in there, but he couldn't help but be thorough. He climbed up on the counter with some difficulty, but it allowed him to somehow manuever himself across te space so he could see if there was anything on top of the cabinets or on the top shelves of the cabinet. It yeilded nothing, and he nearly slipped climbing down. He winced when his feet landed loudly, but the kids hadn't stirred and the two guards he knew had to be outside the door, didn't come in.

Leaving the kitchen, he moved on into the bed area, which mainly consisted of the bed, a little nightstand with no drawer and a lamp that he had yet to turn off. He got on his knees and looked under the bed, not seeing anything, so he gently grabbed the old lamp off the nightstand, took of the dusty shade and brought it down to eye level. It took him a minute to adjust the lamp so it fully lit up the underside of the bed, but when it did…

"Shit…"

He moved the lamp farther underneath the bed, just to make sure that he was truly seeing what he thought he was seeing. A sliver of hope shot through him and he shot up from the floor, replacing the lamp on the nightstand, which he picked up and moved it as far to the left as he could. He gently slid the bed across the floor, surprisingly the frame not making much noise on the hardwood.

Once the bed was moved, Rafael stared at the cut out hole in the floor, the small, rusty handle sticking up invitingly, almost begging him to grab onto it and throw the door open. He hesitated though, looking over at the kids and further past them to the door. At any moment, Juan could walk back in again, forcing him to do something else. If the man saw what Rafael was about to do or even discovered in the first place, he could very well fuck himself over and get himself killed. That wasn't an option at this point, or wouldn't be until the kids were taken to safety.

However, his curiosity was making his fingers itch with the prospect of what was down there. It could be simple survival stuff, like blankets or more food or even matches and flashlights. Or, it could be filled to the brim with boxes and old storage, like most basement were filled with. Or…it could possibly lead to a way out? The liklihood of that was slim, but there was a chance there, and he'd always done very well when the odds were stacked against him.

He gnawed on his lip for a minute and decided to just open the door and look down in it. It was more than likely dark, but the lamp on the nightstand had a long enough chord that he could possibly shove it down in there to see.

It took some strength, but the door finally budged and creaked loudly. He grit his teeth together, listening intently for any signs of movement outside before he continued. When he was positive that he was still in the clear, Rafael opened the door as far as it could go and was immediately greeted with the smell of a dark, dank room. Cold air blew onto his face, and for a moment, it was refreshing in the hot air, but he had no time to enjoy it.

He retrieved the lamp from the nightstand and, very carefully, dropped it down in there, using one hand to hold onto it while the other hand was planted on the floor next to the opening, allowing him to dip his head in to see with the limited light.

He only saw a few seconds of a concrete floor and what looked like a wooden desk when the familiar sound of an engine drew close.

Rafael's heart nearly stopped in his chest, hearing a car door slam directly outside of the house.

Monday – 1:15 p.m.

"Alright, we've been at this for since 10 this morning. How about we all get some lunch and regroup?"

Liv and Amanda, who were bent over a map of the city, looked up at Garver like he had gone mad. Carisi waved his hand towards the women, like Garver was the dumbest person in the world. And in everyone's book so far, he was.

Fin shook his head and began pacing again, wiping the sweat off his forehead for what felt like the hundredth time since they arrived there. The space was limited and there were a good fifteen people shoved in there, with computers set up along the wall, and maps hung up between racks of back stock this woman had for her store.

He was desperate to get out of there, but he knew he couldn't. They had yet to form an actual plan and time was ticking. They were approaching the 24 hour mark and it was making them all incredibly antsy.

"What? Yolonda out there makes a mean tamale," the mustached man pointed towards the door.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" Fin wasn't used to hearing such expletives from his boss, only ever hearing them when she was truly pissed, like she was now. And she had every right to be when this DEA clown was suggesting they stop to eat before they continued. Although, Fin was starving, and he knew they all had to be.

"We can't afford breaks," Cruz, one of the CIA operatives piped in from beside Garver, sliding his reading glasses up into his thick head of hair. "If you're hungry, get a bag of chips and get back in here. We've already wasted too much time trying to decide a course of action."

"Agreed," Amanda shot towards the DEA agent and pointed at a marked spot on the mat. "Now, you said the best thing to do would be to check these little houses out in the desert, right?"

"Correct, but the problema with that is most of the houses are hidden further into the valley where roads can't reach. There's no posible way for us to successfully drop in on these places without being spotted from far away. If they see us coming, we could have a huge firefight on our hands and the decreases the odds of survival for all three of them."

"What about the city? You said the most common place for them to hide would them would be in plain sight. Why don't we send in undercovers? Get them in the building, pretend their interested in buying or selling or whatever."

"Again, they'll assume something is up. Some white tourist from the states walking in and wanting to buy the property? It looks funny. Plus, most of the places we are aware of that support cartel activity have security cameras that are heavily monitored. We can't take chances with that if we want to an establish a name, a look, and a story for the undercovers."

"Well we gotta do something," Fin said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Either way, it sounds like we're taking a huge risk."

"I have specific orders to not make this a huge incident. So, we need to find another way."

"Orders? From the government?" Liv stood up and walked around the table, shoulders tense as she came to a stop just a foot from the man. "They can take those orders and shove them up their asses! Our children are out there. My…our friend is out there with guns to their heads. These people are uploading videos to the internet for millions of people to see. My sons face is plastered all over the news. I don't give a shit what you were told, we're picking one or the other and that's fucking final!"

The entire room went dead silent as Liv and Cruz stared each other down. Amanda had stood up as well, and pressed a hand to her shoulder, trying to calm her down. Carisi was leaned back against a wall, head bowed and Fin just stared at Cruz as well, glad Liv had stepped in to say something. The other operatives who were watching surveillance and messing with gadgets or whatever the fuck it was they had with them.

Cruz looked a little stunned, but recovered quickly and did his best to calm Liv, which was never an easy task. "I know. I know you're all upset and trust me, so are we. This has the potential to turn into a huge politcal shit storm between the countries, and we need to try and remain calm about this situation. They're doing this for a reason. They targeted toursits specifically, and we need to know why. So, let's calm down and think rationally before we go out there and start breaking down doors. Ok?"

Fin sighed and looked at the wall clock near the farthest wall. He cursed, not realizing it was nearing 1:30 already. Rita hadn't come back to the back with them, and honestly, he was glad, because this would have been too much for her. She was already pretty emotionally about the entire thing, and being in on all the stress this was causing wouldn't have been the best for her.

That didn't make him feel better about leaving her out there by herself, though. She was probably keeping the old woman, Yolonda, company or watching the news or something, keeping up with the live reports of what was going on in the world around them. It was probably time to check on her, and make sure she wasn't bored stiff.

He excused himself and walked out of the room, basking in the fresher air and the air-conditioner that felt amazing against his skin. He sighed and walked out into the middle of the store, looking around the area and not seeing his girlfriend. He looked to Yolonda, who was busy with a customer, who had two little children. He waited until she done handling the money and interupted her conversation.

"Excuse me, where did Rita go? The woman out here? She was wearing shorts and a t-shit?"

Yolonda looked confused for a second before realization dawned on her. "Ah! She say she go back to hotel room. She say she be back soon."

"When was that?"

Yolonda glanced at the time, "11?"

Fin's heart dropped in his stomach and he immediately backed away from the counter and out the front door, looking both ways down the street. He cursed and raced back towards the hotel, that was in a relatively short walking distance. His heart beat rapidly with every frantic step he took.