Once again I own none of S Myers, or S McMinn

This isn't my first fanfic but I hope you like it or at least try it out. Review if you want, at least let me know if you want more. This is all for Jacobs pov, for now. The next chapter it will change.

Chapter 1

Step down from the bench in seventy-two hours or the little girls dies.

U.S. Marshal Jacob Black ran his hands over the rough stubble of his face. It had already been twelve hours since federal judge's six year old granddaughter had been discovered missing.

She disappeared on Jacob's watch.

The threatening message had arrived in the judge's inbox an hour later, time stamped 7:21a.m. eastern standard and all the forces of federal law enforcement were hard at work attempting to unscramble its path, they would fail. The nascent technology of the heavily encrypted e mail bypassed central servers and would automatically erase itself in a matter of hours- destroying along with it all evidence of its origin. It was as close to fool proof as we had ever seen.

"You're supposed to be out of here already". Jacob pivoted in his seat to find the head of the Forks judicial security division watching him with expressionless eyes honed from his military special ops background. "Go home," Sam Tucker said. "get some rest, it will do you a world of good." " im not tired." this isn't your case anymore Jake, accept it cause that is the way that it is." Sam was now in charge of the direct supervision of this case. Jacob attempted to tell Sam where he could stick his case and his pseudo sympathy.

Claire was more than a case, she was a human being and he came to care for her more then he meant to. She reminded him to much of what he lost, and this wasn't about him, it was about Claire. Kidnappers rarely returned there victims, and the judge had a recent history of deadly intimidations against him that was believed to include the bombing of a small plane and the death of a federal agent. "Go home", Sam repeated. " Seventy two hours" Jake said, " So you want me to what go home and act like nothing happen just cause you decided that I was to close to the case?" " Just go home Jake, this isn't for you anymore." did they just think he would go home and suck his thumb, like a little child being dismissed?, this was about Claire and she only had 60 hours left. Sam Tucker knew when to keep his mouth shut. They were no platitudes to ease the awful fact that a man who killed a plane full of 34 innocent people wouldn't hesitate to kill one more.

"we are doing everything we can," Jake said, speaking the platitude for the commander. He heard the emotion he'd sworn to control come out in his voice. "Except not"

The bitterness stung deeply, he didn't agree with the media blackout out regarding Claire's kidnapping. " go home and go to bed, you have 5 minutes before you are escorted out of the building", Sam said flatly.

Tough love, that is what he said when he dismissed Jacob from the case, more then that, sent on forced leave. Jacob had taken the case too personally and become too emotionally involved. According to Sam, this made him a danger to the other agents and even to Claire. He didn't agree but he also didn't get to choose.

Jacob left the building with nothing, the truth is was that he didn't have personal belongings at the office. Much like his apartment, he thought as he parked his car and got out. His apartment was cold, with an overhanging sense of emptiness despite being furnished. He looked at the photo of a smiling bubble blowing 5 year old Lizzie on the mantel over the fireplace where he never even burned a log. Frozen in time, weeks before his daughter had died. Innocent, with her life shining before her and nothing. Six months later his marriage fell apart. He wasn't able to save Lizzie not even a chance, but Claire, it wasn't too late and there was no way he was walking away.

Nobody knew who wanted judge Reinhold off the bench, it could be for revenge of an old case or something to prevent a new one coming before him. It was possible that it was all intimidation against the judge and was related to the Seattle mafia infiltration of Washington and the attempts to nail the ring leader. The judge dealt with search warrants wire taps, secret grand jury testimony.

Stacks of files littered the table and none of the materials were classified. They were mostly notes in his own hand, ideas, theories and questions and clippings all having to do with the mafia. The more and more he poured over his notes the more he realized that nothing could stand in his way. The bottom of the list contained notes and clippings from the plane explosion, it had been a dramatic deadly act. Suspicions had centered around Alcee Reinhold, who hadn't made the flight. Unfortunately the agent that assigned to him had. If the bombing was intended for the judge, the marshals' couldn't prove it. They only knew that the perpetrator had access to the plane and had probably masqueraded as a member of the construction staff and had used a stolen ID. The bomb had been planted in the twin engines cargo hold. Agents poured over the security tapes looking for the face of the killer. Jacob sat in the growing dusk of his apt staring at the pile related to the attacks' on flight 498. There was nothing new, except his level of desperation. Something wasn't right and he knew it. He grabbed the phone off the side table and dialed tucker.

" Black here, I want to know what came out of the interview with the psychic," he clipped out. Impatient, hell ya. "What?" " That psychic from Forks who called the airport, the one that said flight 498 was going to explode, there was a tracking ID from the reporter but I never received the file."" Get some sleep Black, I wont tell you again." " Did anyone actually talk to Bella Clearwater?" " Yes, we talked to her, dammit Black, do you not see-" "What was the outcome?"

" She was a hysterical wife!Get a grip, her husband was taking that flight, she admitted that she was afraid of flying herself, do you know how many crank call the airport gets a day?, She's a whack job and she didn't have anything to do with the bombing. We checked her out, now get some sleep!" Click… The grainy photo in the paper showed a slender dark haired women with grieving eyes. She looked lost, even in the crowd of mourners photographed that day at the airport. Her eyes hit the camera dead on and there was nothing hysterical about them not even shock.

"You remember what they said about Forks after that quake," Jake said, and even as he spoke the words he felt foolish. The tiny town of Forks had bee hit with a quake the year before and the aftermath included a media circus of claim about paranormal activity. Residents say they saw sparks of red lights and a ball of pure energy and a red haze in the air. Fire trucks were sent but there was no fire to been seen. They ended up call the quake, in a combination of low pressure and dense moisture at the time. Following the kidnapping, he returned to headquarters and request the files on all the interview out comes of the bombing, he got them all but the one on Bella Clearwater, the psychic from Forks. This evening he had requested it and 20 minutes later been suspended. " Do you hear yourself talking Black?", Yeah I do", Jacob was silent for a heavy beat, feeling the gut itching something wasn't right . He heard a very subtle click on the other end of the phone,…..wiretapped. His pulse was dead still. He held the phone away from his ear yet he could still hear Sam telling him he was crazy. He used his pocket knife to quickly take apart the bottom of the phone and found the tiny listening device. Back to the phone he snapped" DID YOU WIRE MY PHONE?" " What the hell are you talking about now?" Jake punched the off button. Either the commander was lying or someone else had wired his phone. He dropped everything and ran out of his house, how had it never occurred to him that the perpetrator of the bombing and kidnapping could be one of his own team.

He raced back to the station breaking all the laws, he pulled in happy that security was not around and snuck to his office. The lights were off and his name off the door, thank God that the locks hadn't been changed and that the desk top was still intact. He quickly typed in Bella Clearwater's name and did a search, there was nothing there. No interview report file, no tracking number and the ID had been used just hours earlier. The screen went abruptly black and bright green letters appeared: You are attempting to access an unapproved area. the hairs prickled at the nape of his neck, the network had just tracked and his access been cut off for somewhere inside the building. The scraped the back of his chair and headed toward the empty hall of the building. Someone opened the fire exit and he heard the audible rush of a bullet whiz by his ear. Blood pounded in his ears as he evaded and fired back. He fired in the direction of the blast in the same second he took the steps two at a time reaching the underground parking. The guard at the gate reached for his phone in the booth. Reaching the gate, he had his window down and gun out before the guard could speak or draw, " Open the Gate", and he was thru. For the first time since he heard the shot his hands shook, no internal alarm had gone off in the building and he had been shot at inside headquarters, he shut down all emotion as his Impala sped down the maze of dark streets. He'd gotten away clean but there was no way he could go home. He had a really bad feeling that whoever had shot at him had no need to follow, all he could do now was hope. Pulling a gun on the guard made him a wanted man. Armed and dangerous, he fellow marshals would be ordered to shoot to kill, his life had just taken the value of scum lower then dirt. Claire's life was on the line, his own was only as important in that context as was , now, Bella Clearwater. He sped up as the he reached I-79 South, Forks 22 miles.