"Seven hundred and thirteen, seven hundred and fourteen, seven hundred and fifteen."

Having reached the same figure for the fifth consecutive time, Princess determined that there was, without a doubt, seven hundred and fifteen flower-type images on the ceiling above her bed. She was somewhat proud to admit that she hadn't lost count in any of the five attempts to correctly determine the amount of flowers above her head. She was mortified, however, to find that there were even flowers above her head …

…She hated flowers.

"Fucking flowers," she cursed in a manner so uncharacteristic it made her shudder. "Why a woman would swoon and faint over these awful things, I have no idea." Her breath came in deep, held in her lungs, then expelled slowly carrying along a threat to her lover. "If Mark ever so much as considers the notion to buy me flowers, I'll leave him." Her lips pursed in total agreement with herself. "I'll more than leave him. I'll use my yo-yo and kill him. I'm pretty sure it would fall into the "justifiable homicide" category."

The last word came out inside a yawn.

She was so tired, so very tired. Her implant may have given her the ability to remain alert and focused for days in battle, but it was unable to support her tiring system even enough maintain a working level of sanity. She was slowly losing her mind.

Her eyes raised to her wrists and narrowed.

"Apparently I have freakish superhuman abilities; and the local comic fan-sites suggest I have heat-ray vision …" She sighed and narrowed her eyes as her lip tweaked to one side in a cheeky smirk. "So how do I activate it? Eye-laser sesame?"

Her skin gave a shudder in the cold night air from the window as the mysterious mist blew across her semi-naked body. She flicked her eyes at the window and squinted in an attempt to focus.

"Mark," she whimpered through a total body twitch against the cold. "Don't leave me here to die like this, please."

In her brief unclouded moments she knew she had fairly little time left to fight against the inevitable outcome of her captivity. She was borderline Hypothermic, she could feel it in her muscles and tell by her moments of confusion and insanity. With a Las Vegas night more than already started, she knew it was only going to get colder.

The breeze through the window was so crisp it burned. While not Winter, the season was not quite full spring; so the breeze was crisp and icy. With her shuddering subsiding and her skin numbing, she knew that stage 2 of hypothermia wouldn't be that far off in coming.

She let out a long, long breath and whimpered Mark's name again as her communicator buzzed against her wrist.

"I can't hear you," she moaned in sadness and frustration. "Please stop …" She hicupped and her eyes flashed as it buzzed again, and then again.

A pattern.

She concentrated as hard as she could.

Morse code?

"P, it's J."

~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~

Mark wasn't totally sure he wanted to see what had Archie so upset. He knew Archie had probably borne witness to videotaped atrocities far beyond the realm of what any of the G-Force had ever seen; so to have the young Asian investigator panicked at what he was seeing didn't bode too well for his beloved. Fearing he might break yet again, he said nothing as he followed Jason into the room and took a reluctant seat.

"Before you turn that on, Archie, please …" Mark swallowed hard. "How bad is it?"

Archie's eyes gave a slow blink as he leaned forward and turned on the speakers. "You mean in comparison to what I usually see?"

Mark and Jason's eyes widened wide upon hearing the voice of their teammate softly counting through the speakers.

Archie took their silence as an answer in the affirmative to his question, so he continued. "It's unnerving, Commander. There might not be blood, there might not be dead bodies or murder, but to watch her like this and knowing one of my workmates is responsible for putting her through it." He sighed and pointed a remote control at a large flat-screen monitor on the wall. "Well, that makes it the sickest thing I've ever seen."

Mark blinked long lashes quickly over his blue eyes and exhaled a stunned breath as the monitor slowly lit up to show an almost naked Princess lying handcuffed to a large bed. "God, Princess …"

"Where is she?" Jason grunted with only his breath.

Archie could do little but shrug in response. "I'm trying to work on that, but I don't have much in the room that'll give me any clues." He rolled himself into position at the keyboard and cracked his knuckles to begin a new scan of the room. "The décor is a gaudy 70's style, but that only narrows things down to one of those rent by the hour places."

"She looks hurt," Mark sighed above the two other voices. He tilted his head at the image before him and studied her every curve. "She's almost blue."

"Damn it," Jason cursed under his breath. Being Princess' second in the first aid department he knew what she was facing. "At least she's still shivering."

Mark angled his head sideways at his second, but didn't take his eyes off the image on the screen. "Which means what?"

Jason folded his arms across his chest and lowered his head. "Which means she's not as bad as you think she is." He took a breath before adding "yet."

Archie was only partially listening to the two senior G-Force members as he zoomed in and out of small areas of the image on his own screen to attempt to find just a small something that might tell him where they could find her. The only sounds he made were soft ticks of air as his search for clues gave up nothing.

Mark and Jason, however, continued their quiet conversation, both calm, but obviously concerned.

"What is she doing?" Jason asked as he finally focused on the woman and not her state.

"Counting," Mark responded simply.

"Yeah, but counting what?"

Mark snorted. "I fell asleep during mind reading 101."

Jason rolled his eyes and stooped forward to get a closer look at the image. "Can't you trace Hodge's credit cards and shit; you know; find out where he spent the money?"

Archie, finally realizing he was now part of the discussion, shook himself and looked up at Jason with a wane smile. "No good, Condor. We did that already. He must've used cash."

"Damn," Jason muttered in reply as he lowered his gaze to the small random captures of the main image. "Sick bastard has been watching her the whole time."

"Yeah," Archie grunted. "On the Lab laptop."

"Can you trace the feed?" Jason tried.

Archie shrugged. "Been there tried that. You have to remember that this guy is a forensics lab technician. He has access to a world of information and of techs that are more than happy to help him out with a problem."

"Meaning," Jason growled, "that you probably told him how to set this up."

Archie raised his hands defensively. "Hey, he told me it pertained to the serial case and that Grissom needed to know how …" He groaned. "I should have gone to Grissom myself. I knew there was something up with him asking me about the technical stuff."

"Yeah, perhaps you should've," Jason agreed.

Mark's soft voice interrupted the conversation that looked to turn ugly. "Hindsight's 20/20."

"Oh here we go," Jason huffed with a roll of the eyes. "Mr. Philosophical strikes …"

Mark's face darkened and his gaze shot hotly at his second. "Oh can the shit, Jason. Stop pulling your macho argumentative bullshit and focus on finding something to bring her home."

"Oh," Jason snarled defensively. "You want to start something?"

"When we bring her home," Mark ordered as his arm shot upward to point at Princess' image, "Then I'll start any damn thing you want. But right now I want you to stop playing up to reputation and be my second in command." He let the order linger in the air between them for a long second before he slowly lowered his arm and voice. "She needs level heads and no power plays if we want to bring her home."

Jason's lips pursed excessively in response, but he said nothing. Instead they let Princess' soft voice fill the void in conversation.

"Mark. Don't leave me here to die like this, please."

Mark's heart caught in his throat. He couldn't hide the rush of tears that filled his eyes to the lash line. "Oh, baby. I promise you I won't let you die." His voice cracked as he addressed his second. "We have to shelve it and save her, Jase."

Jason agreed with a long exhale. "Does she know we can hear her?"

Archie shrugged at the question. "I doubt it. If she knew she'd probably be trying to help us out."

"Yes," Mark agreed softly. "If she knew we were watching it would probably energize her a little."

"Can't you send her a message over your watch?" Archie offered helpfully.

"No," Jason sighed with a shake of his head. "She's got the communicator on mute, she can't hear us."

"Wow," Archie remarked. "That's something you might want to look at upgrading."

"I hear that," Jason snorted.

Mark's head tilted sideways as he listened to the pair beside him and focused on the love of his life looking helpless and despondent on the monitor on the wall. "She said it buzzes."

Jason curled a lip and nodded. "Yeah, it does. It's kind of like a pag… " He twisted his head to look at Mark in surprise. "You've never muted it?"

"Never needed to," he responded politely. As he ended his response his eyes flew open. "Jase, how's your Morse?"

"Rusty, but decipherable, why?"

"Try to contact her. Let's see if we can start a dialogue and get some information from her."

Jason shrugged a shoulder and began to tap the tip of his index finger into the yellow faceplate of his communicator. "I know for a fact your Morse is better than mine, so why are you asking me to do it?"

Mark took a seat on a chair beside Archie and pointed at one of his stills. "Because I'll be at the keyboard with Archie." He let the side of his mouth curl up into a smirk. "And I know you suck on the computer."

"Unless it's playing Need for Speed, Skipper – That I'm good at."

Mark pointed at Jason's communicator. "Concentrate, Condor."

Jason smiled,at the soft, frustrated voice of Princess' reaction to the first initial buzzes of her communicator – confirmation she was receiving his code. He spoke the message he sent to ensure Mark and Archie knew exactly what he was transmitting.

"P, It's J."

~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~

For the first time since she had discovered the mute feature on her transponder band, Princess welcomed the pins and needles sensation of an attempted contact. Her breath came out warm across blueing lips, slow and relieved.

"I wish I could let you know I could hear you Jase," she managed inside a sigh's exhale. "Please tell me you're on your way."

"R U OK, P?"

She had to let out a short chuckle at his "Internet-style" of communication – he was so bad at morse, and so impatient in communication that she knew this would be a tough read for her.

"Oh, Jase," she sighed gently as she raised her hands to her wrists to see if she could find some way of tapping her own communicator to let him know she could hear him.

"We can C U, Wav hi."

She gasped in embarrassment and immediately tried to cover herself up. Her shackles clanged loudly against the aluminium bed frame to remind her she was unable to do so. With a sniff and a look around she settled back in to calm.

"Can you hear me too?"

"S … Ye …."

"One for yes, two for no, Jason," she said with a smirk. A single buzz gave affirmation to her question. "Where's the camera?"

There was silence, which told her he was probably asking that question to someone at the lab. Then: "Air vent."

She looked up to the first of three vents in the room and narrowed her eyes in an attempt at peering in between the slats to see the telltale red led light of a camera. Two short buzzes at her wrist told her to look at the second. A solitary buzz confirmed she was looking at the right one.

"Is Mark with you?" she questioned softly.

He answered with a solitary buzz.

"Tell him I'm sorry, please."

"Not UR Folt."

His obvious error made her laugh. "If I wasn't in a life or death situation I'd have to remark on your spelling."

"yet U do."

"How close are you to finding me?"

There was an initial moment of silence.

"Jason?"

"Mark axs How U?"

"You're skirting the question, Jason; and for God's sake get Mark to communicate. Your Morse sucks!"

She knew that her comment would piss him off, not for the insult, but because he was obviously doing this by order of his Commander. She muttered a quiet apology and tried to shift for comfort on the hard mattress.

~~O-O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-O-O~~

"You heard her Skip," Jason muttered as his arms folded tightly against his chest. "I suck."

Mark's eyes were locked on the image of her tired face on the monitor in front of him. His misdirected glare of annoyance through his brows slowly shifted to the actual target of his frustration. "When this is all over, Jason, you're going back to school."

Jason snorted, thumbed his nose and jutted his chin at the monitor. "You gonna talk to the girl or what?"

Mark let out a breath and flicked the front part of his wing up over his shoulder to free his wrist for communication.

"You stood me up."

His eyes studied her face as the communication sent. He let out a relived breath to see her smile.

"Sorry Mark, but something came up."

"How are you holding up?"

She shifted and looked directly into the camera. "I need you to get me out of here, Mark."

"I know, Sweetheart," he whispered as he tapped. "We're doing the best we can. Just tell me you're okay."

She nodded and slid her eyes from the camera. "I'm okay, Mark. I'm just … I feel so stupid and … and hopeless."

"Damn," Jason cursed under his breath. "I'm right there with you, Prin."

"I hear that," Mark agreed softly as he took a moment to analyse a section of the room. It was when he heard a soft and worried call of his name that he let his attention fall to communication.

"Sorry Princess. I'm doing everything I can to find you…"

"Multitasking as always," she sighed with a smile. "What can I do to help out?"

"Become Houdini," Jason retorted blandly to the chagrin of Mark. He let his eyes fall to his commander and tapped his fingertip on the table. "Mark, she's getting bluer by the minute, you wanna let me go and tug on the balls of that guy to make him fess to where she is?"

Archie crossed his legs at the comment and let out a meek groan, while Mark actually seemed to entertain the notion for a moment. "Can you think of a less …" he rolled his wrist in the air as if trying to find the right word. "Less … emasculating act than that?"

Jason's lip curled into a pleased snarl. "I'm sure I can think of something."

"Good," Mark ordered firmly, "Go. I'll find out from Princess what I can."

"Mark? Don't disappear on me, please," Princess begged over the speakers.

His attention shot back to the monitor. "I'm here, Princess. Just doing Commander stuff."

"Jason again?"

"Always."

"Go easy on him, Mark." she sighed softly. "You know he won't cross the line like you think he will."

"You haven't seen him over the past 24 hours, Prin," he countered almost distractedly as he pointed at something in the window. "Archie, can you zoom in on that?"

Archie gave a nod, a grunt and immediately straightened in his chair to attempt to answer to Mark's request. "Keep her talking, Commander," He urged almost in order, "the mic is sound activated and I need to get as much background noise as possible to help us here."

A sigh came over the monitor, as did a decidedly uncovered yawn. "Even over Morse I can tell when you've got your mind on something else."

"Momentarily distracted, Sweetheart," he answered back. "You're always first, you know that."

She giggled softly. "Liar."

He smiled but didn't respond. He watched and waited for Archie to work his magic on the image. As it drew close, and the over enlargement created a blurred mess of pixels, Mark's heartbeat quickened.

"Can you sharpen the text on that bottle?" His fingertip went back to the transponderband faceplate. "Has he been drugging you?"

"I don't think so," she answered carefully as though trying to recall any obvious attempts at drug administration. "Aside from scraps of food and some water, there has been nothing." She took a breath. "Besides, Mark, we're immune, right?"

"Not against everything, Princess," he muttered without transmitting. He sighed heavily and pinched his chin between his thumb and the length of his index finger as he watched Archie attempt to sharpen the image of the bottle on the screen. "What do you think, Arch?"

Archie angled his head to one side in concentration and continued to tamper with the image. "Not too sure, Commander. Looks to me like it might be Diazepam …" he paused to clear his throat. "10 mg."

"Shit," Mark responded flatly. "That is one we have no immunity to."

Archie's face stretched into surprise. "Is that deliberate?"

Mark nodded almost in regret. "If you've ever seen the Condor in the dentist chair you'd understand why we need it."

Archie actually smirked at that. "So the Condor really does have a weakness, doesn't he?"

"Several, actually," he replied distractedly as he once again brought his wrist to the table to tap in a message to his lover.

"How are you feeling, Prin?"

She seemed to squirm at the question. "Haven't you already asked me that question?" Rather than waiting for a response, she rocked her head singly from side to side and sighed. "I'm tired, Mark. My arms and legs feel like lead weights and I'm cold, but I'm lucid enough to know I haven't been drugged."

"You don't always feel high from Valium, Commander," Archie offered quietly. "If Hodges was smart he'd know how to administer just enough to tame her but not dope her out."

"I'd rather not label him with intelligence, Archie," he flatly retorted. "Taking the woman I love isn't a sign of brilliance."

"Stupidity."

"Exactly."

There was a shrill yelp from the hallway, which made Archie jump and focus his attention on the ruckus. Mark simply ignored it to analyse the room and his future bride a little more closely.

Jason's voice has low, dangerous, and full of command when it boomed from the hallway followed closely by the sound of a body being thrown up against a thick glass wall.

"Unless you want to spend the rest of your pathetic little life eating food through a straw I'd fess up now."

Grissom's command was stronger than Jason's and spoken with far less aggression. "Condor, you're not helping. Let him go."

Brass seemed to agree. "C'mon Condor. We can't do anything until his lawyer gets here."

"Do you think I give a fuck about a lawyer," Jason growled back. "I only care about bringing Princess home."

"Which isn't going to happen anytime soon if you kill him," Brass snarled.

"No, but it'll make me feel much better."

Archie actually gave a small whimper as he watched the image play out beside their room through thick plate glass windows. "Commander …"

"Yes," Mark moaned impatiently.

"Aren't you going to step in or something?"

"No."

"But …"

David's voice ghosted through the scuffling sounds and bounced off the walls in a mocking manner. "I don't know what you're talking about, Condor. Who is Princess; and why would I know how to find her?"

Jason gave him another shove against the wall. "Don't play with me, fuckwit."

Hodges didn't whine he didn't even flinch. All he did was growl and speak over his shoulder. "I'd win the game anyway, Condor."

Grissom seemed to have enough of the commotion inside his lab and popped his head in to the room occupied by Archie and Mark. "Commander, will you?"

Mark let out a long, long breath and pressed the knuckles of his fist into the table to push himself to a slow stand. "I'll be back, Sweetheart," he said softly to the image on the monitor then kissed at the air. His eyes slid to Archie. "Watch over her for me."

"Um, yeah," Archie responded unsurely. "Sure."

Mark said nothing further as he slowly stalked out of the room toward the small group in a standoff only a short distance from the audio lab. His arm snaked out to point at his second in order for him to back off.

"Jason, stand down."

"C'mon, Mark," he moaned in obvious displeasure. "Don't…" His words fell off as he took in Mark's expression – or lack thereof. Immediately recognizing Eagle stalking prey, he backed off with his hands raised. "He's yours, Skipper."

The Eagle didn't utter a word as he ignored the other parties and focused his "through the brow" glare at David Hodges.

Hodges, for his part, stared at the approaching raptor with wide eyes.

Brass opened his mouth to say something, but was silenced by the back of Grissom's hand slapping against his chest. He looked toward his older friend and frowned when he saw him shake his head in warning.

Mark saw none of this. Staring through tunnel vision, the G-Force squad leader zoomed in on Hodges and stalked until he was chest to chest and looking down at him.

His order was simple. "Where is she?"

Hodges' attempt to squirm away from him was halted by the pressure of the Eagle's chest against his. Any response that he wanted to make came out only in short grunts.

So Mark asked again, only this time he tilted his head with aggression and threat. "I'll ask again, where is Princess?"

Brass' voice fractured the uncomfortable murmuring of the hallways. "Commander, let him go. We'll…"

Mark's hand shot to the side, his palm angled up in a firm "stop" motion, which immediately silenced the Police Detective.

Hodges seemed to find reprieve in the apparent defence of the criminalists. He raised his head boldly and snorted against the Eagle's blue visor. "You heard him, Mark. Let me go."

"And you heard me," Mark countered smoothly, undeterred by the spittle marks and fogging left on his visor. "I want to know where my third is being held."

Over his shoulder Jason smirked and snorted in encouragement for Mark to finally act.

Mark ignored it. "You have until I count to three to tell me where you're holding my Swan, or I begin to remove any trace of your sexuality one swipe of my birdrang at a time."

Hodges wasn't fooled. He angled his head to look at Grissom over Mark's shoulder. "Are you actually going to let him do this?"

"One," Mark began coolly.

"I'm not scared of you, Commander," Hodges snarled. "I know you. I know how much you value justice and the American way."

"Two," Mark replied as he unholstered his weapon and let the scrape of metal along metal sound of the blades open add an exclamation point to the word.

Hodges – and every man within earshot of such a sound – shuddered at the suggestion of what was to come at three. Hodges, however, simply curled a lip and gave a laugh. "I'll tell you nothing."

"Three," Mark hissed. He waited half a heartbeat for the count-off to end and pursed his lips in an almost kiss. "I warned you, Mr. Hodges."

Hodges' breath hitched. "You wouldn't."

Mark's answer came swiftly. He shifted back less than an inch, rose his forearm to Hodges' throat and shoved him hard into the wall. In a move quicker than the strike of lightning, he flicked his wrist along his prey's mid-section. His voice smoothly rolled past his lips as his gaze softened upon his victim's face.

"Wouldn't I?"

Hodges took a moment to look at Mark's expression curiously. He frowned and let his eyes disrespectfully roll. "You talk about it …." His words halted abruptly when he saw Mark's hand rise into his field of vision. The royal-blue glove of the G-Force Commander's uniform was now a deep brown-burgundy colour. The stainless steel blades of the weapon were streaked red.

"No sense in talking about it if you aren't prepared to do it," he snarled as he loudly closed the blades just shy of Hodges' mouth.

Silence immediately filled the room as the colour from Hodges' face quickly fell.

Mark watched him with fascination as he slowly looked downward at the location he was sure the cut had been made. "So I am going to ask you again. Where is my Swan?"

Slowed time seemed to speed into real time. Any silence that seemed to deafen all men immediately vanished into hums of electronics, fluorescent lights and onlookers when Hodges shoved a suddenly moveable Eagle far enough away to be able to grab hopelessly at his crotch.

"What are you; a freak? This is insane, this is attempted murder!"

"Where is she?" Mark responded with deliberate ignorance to the man's panic.

"I'm going to bleed to death! Someone do something."

Mark made no move as Hodges' fell to his knees, his hands cupped at his crotch to attempt to stop the bleeding. "Tell me."

Hodges raised his head. "You kill me, she dies. You have no hope of finding her."

Mark's head ticked to one side. "She dies, you die," he promised as his hand clutched a fistful of Hodges' hair to drag him to a stand. "And noone will stop me, right Jason?"

"Damn straight," Jason confirmed with a snort.

A voice of opposite gender to the occupants of the hallway suddenly gasped through the din.

"Oh my God."

All eyes shifted to Catherine, who had found herself at the monitors beside Archie and Sara. She had her hand over her mouth as she looked toward Grissom.

"I … I know that place."