A/N: So close to being done! I might actually finish it! Yay!

The second safe house was across the bridge in a small suburb of rundown houses. Despite its dilapidated state and rather unsavory residents, the neighborhood was quiet. The silence unnerved Inna. After being in the city for so long, the cacophony of cars and people became background noise, and its absence was very unsettling.

But so was the blood she was washing off her hands.

The water was scalding and her skin was raw and pink beneath it, but she hadn't gotten all of the blood off yet. She could still see it staining her skin, still feel it caking in the crevasses of her fingerprints. And she had to get it off, had to wash it away. There was so much blood on her hands already. She couldn't stand the idea that she had Serge's blood there, too.

Finally, she turned off the faucet and watched the last of the pink-tinted water swirl down the drain. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough to wash it all away.

She glanced in the mirror as Mikhail entered the tiny bathroom. He leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, head held high, but his eyes betrayed him. While he held himself as casual and calm, she could see the stress lines by his eyes and the ache reflected in the blue irises. He was just as worried as her.

"He's sleeping," Mikhail stated quietly, "As long as we keep the wound clean, he will be fine."

Inna leaned heavily against the sink, "It was too close, Mikhail. He lost so much blood."

"We gave him more," Mikhail said quickly, "If we must, we will give him more after that. We will not let him die, Inna."

She looked at him through the reflection of the mirror, "How did this happen?"

Mikhail said nothing, having no answer to give her. She sighed, briefly closing her eyes, before staring at her reflection in the mirror. The small white scars that littered the left side of her face looked more prominent in the dimly lit bathroom. The longest of the scars ran from the corner of her left eye across her cheek bone and to the corner of her mouth. Scars of a past life that she could never really forget.

"I used to be beautiful, you know," she whispered.

Mikhail moved to her side, turning her away from the mirror and tracing the long scar with his calloused fingers. She forced herself not to flinch and to meet his eyes, unwavering and certain. When his fingers reached her lips, he let them hover there without hesitation.

"You still are," he whispered, barely audible.

Inna closed her eyes, relishing his touch, cherishing it. It had been years since she'd allowed herself to feel something for another man besides her husband. Years of suppressing and resisting and denying. Years of loneliness. Years of only the mission, but now there was so much more.

"We have come too far," Mikhail said, as if reading her thoughts, "If we give up now, it will have all been for nothing."

"It would be so easy," Inna said without opening her eyes, "to give up, to run away and hide, to never look back."

"We would never be safe."

Inna sighed, leaning into his touch, wishing for it to never end.

"He would never give up."

Inna tensed, her resolve slowly building back up, becoming hard as granite, resolute as the mountains.

"And they would never rest," Mikhail whispered.

The final nail in the coffin. Inna opened her eyes and pulled away, though reluctantly. Mikhail gave her the faintest of smiles.

"Gather the others in the great room," she ordered.

Sofia refused to leave Neal's side and after her first meltdown when they tried to make her move, no one asked again. They told her he was just sleeping and it was his body's natural way of healing, but Sofia didn't buy it. Elizabeth was hovering and Peter was pacing, both of them casting worried glances at Neal as he slept on the pull out sofa in the great room.

She'd let Elizabeth clean her up and bandage her scraped hands and knees. She'd drank the water and ate the apple slices Lanka had given her and agreed to try to sleep, but only if she was next to Neal. Which was how he'd ended up in the great room with Sofia nestled beside him, watching him sleep and wishing he'd wake up, the coin clutched tightly in her hand.

She could hear them talking about Neal and Serge. They said Serge would be okay, that the bullet had gone through and he was healing in the next room. They said Neal's ribs had bruised in the fall, some of them breaking, but he would be fine. They would all be fine.

Sofia didn't believe that at all.

Just as sleep was beginning to take her away, Inna and Mikhail came into the room. Sofia new something was wrong from the look on Inna's face. She was angry, angry enough to show it. A feat that didn't happen very often.

"We need to talk," Inna said, standing at the edge of the room.

Peter and Elizabeth looked up from where they sat on the small loveseat in the corner. Mikhail went to the back room and reappeared a moment later with an annoyed Lanka.

"Yes, we do," Peter said, "This needs to end."

"Nyet, that is not what we need to discuss," she glared, "Someone revealed our location. We need to know who and how."

"It wasn't us," Elizabeth said hastily.

"Elle-"

"No, Peter. It wasn't us. Neal and I were no where near any thing we could communicate with. And even if we were, we wouldn't have called your enemies. We would have called the FBI."

"I am not sure if I believe you," Inna said slowly, "Not because I distrust you, but because there is no other logical explanation."

"Maybe you messed up somewhere," Peter said, "They could have tracked you. Maybe Dmitri suspected something."

"Nyet," Mikhail said without hesitation, "Our operations have been untraceable. Serge insured that."

At the mention of the injured man a heavy silence filled the room. Sofia whimpered, burying her face into the blankets and clinging to Neal's hands. She was surprised when he squeezed back.

"Neal?"

The room's attention was quickly drawn to them as Neal groaned and opened his eyes. He looked around the room, sighing heavily. And then his eyes landed on her and he smiled.

"Hey there, magic trick."

She squealed in delight, hugging him around the neck and kissing his cheek repeatedly. He hissed in pain as she jostled his ribs, but that didn't stop her. She was too happy that he'd finally woken up.

"Sofia, let him breathe," Inna ordered with bemusement.

Reluctantly, she let go, sitting on her knees and bouncing in place as Peter came to the other side of the bed. Hesitantly, he pressed his hand against Neal's neck, eyes traveling across his face with concern.

"Neal, you alright?" he asked softly.

Neal wrapped his hand around Peter's wrist, smirking up at his partner, "Why, Peter. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you cared."

Peter scoffed, visibly deflating with relief, "Don't flatter yourself. The paperwork would be hell."

Peter moved away, allowing Elizabeth to lean over Neal and kiss his forehead, smiling through tears of relief.

"What happened?" Neal asked when Elizabeth moved away, "Serge? He was hurt-"

"He's fine," Lanka said softly, unable to meet his eyes, "Or he will be."

Neal nodded, relieved, "Who attacked us? And why?"

"It was Tyen's men," Mikhail said.

Neal frowned, "But how did he find us?"

"That," Inna said crossing her arms, "is what we would like to know."

As Neal stared at Inna in confusion, Sofia looked at Lanka, wondering why the woman was suddenly crying. She didn't have to wait long to get her answer.

"It was me," Lanka whispered brokenly.

Ice enveloped the room. Slowly, stiffly, Inna turned away from Neal to face Lanka, unable to keep the disbelief from clouding her face and her hands from clenching into fists. Mikhail wisely stepped out of her way as she crossed the room, stopping only inches from Lanka.

"What do you mean," she asked tensely, "it was you?"

"Vivka," Lanka whispered, "She called and I answered."

The room was horribly still for only a moment before Inna erupted. She grabbed Lanka by the front of her shirt and slammed her into the wall, knocking a clock to the floor. Lanka grunted but did nothing to fight the older woman off. Whether she knew she was no match for her, or that she deserved her punishment, Sofia didn't know. She cringed as Inna pulled Lanka away from the wall only to slam her back again.

"Tupaya sooka! Why? You know he would monitor her!" Inna shouted.

Lanka fought back tears, "I gave her the number for emergencies. Five years she's had it and not one call, but tonight she did. I thought he'd gone after her. I had to-"

"Nyet! You did not think," Inna shoved away from her, "You did not think of anyone but yourself! Your own selfish need. Your stupidity got Serge shot. It nearly killed Sofia."

"Don't forget Neal," Peter muttered angrily. Mikhail grunted, but Sofia didn't know if it was out of agreement or annoyance.

"I'm sorry," Lanka whispered, tears falling rapidly down her face unchecked, "I am so sorry. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean to-"

"Enough," Inna growled, "You nearly cost us the mission, Lanka, and so much more."

Sobbing now, Lanka slid to the floor, "It's my fault. It was all my fault."

"Da," Inna agreed, glaring.

Lanka buried her face in her hands, "The fire, Nadya. I'm so sorry. It was all my fault. Bozhe moy, and now Sofia almost...Prosti, prosti."

Sofia saw Inna slowly crumble, the anger fading from her face like the light from the sun as nighttime fell. Her hands began to shake, her body began to tremble. But it was Lanka's next words that became her undoing.

Lanka looked up through her tears, "Prosti menya, sestra."

Sofia had not heard Lanka and Inna refer to each other as sister in years. It was an unspoken truth, a secret that everyone knew. They never acknowledged it, never acted on it, yet it always hung between them. But the soft word whispered so brokenly made the hard exterior of Inna Dragomirov crumble like sand.

She fell beside Lanka, gathering her in her arms, rocking back and forth as Lanka broke and shuddered against her chest. Peter and Elizabeth turned away as did Neal, unsure if they should be watching such an intimate exchange of grief and pain. No doubt they were confused. These were not the hardened criminals that had kidnapped them earlier that night.

But Sofia was smiling widely and she couldn't stop because she could hear Inna's soft words floating across the room, healing wounds caused so many years ago by fire and gunpowder.

"Ya tebya lyublyu, sestrenka," Inna whispered through her own tears, "Prosti."

After hours of crying, Inna was finally able to get Lanka to rest. She had Mikhail put her in the same room as Serge with in reaching distance of each other. She hoped that it would calm her when she woke up to have him there.

Inna herself was unsure of how to proceed, which was rare. Usually, she knew exactly what to do, had a plan of action for every circumstance. But there wasn't a rule for what to do when your captives saw you emotionally breakdown.

"So," Peter said casually as she came back into the room, "I think there are some things you should tell us."

Inna grunted, plopping down in the recliner and pulling out a cigarette. She was surprised she'd been able to go as long as she had without one. Peter stood beside the pull out bed, shoulders squared and arms crossed, trying to show a semblance of control in a hectic and frightening situation. Inna didn't fail to notice that he never moved farther than reaching distance from Neal, who sat up in the bed, grimacing when he moved wrong. It warmed Inna's heart that Elizabeth was sitting on the bed beside Neal, running her fingers through Sofia's hair as she slept in her lap.

Peter scowled as Inna lit her cigarette, but said nothing.

"Tyen tracked a phone call our sister Vivka made to Lanka's cell," Inna told them.

"He sent the men to kill you all," Peter said, "We got that, but it doesn't explain why. You haven't done anything to him yet. Have you?"

Inna sighed, rubbing her temples, and wondering just how much she should reveal to them. The less they knew, the better, but how willing would they be to cooperate if they were kept in the dark?

"Who's Nadya?"

Inna snapped her head up, locking eyes with Neal. He didn't flinch as her cold eyes settled on his face.

"Lanka said it several times," Neal explained, "when the fire started. And then earlier, when she was talking with you. Who is she?"

Inna swallowed, closing her eyes as Nadya's smiling face flickered through her memory, "She was our sister."

"Was?" Elizabeth asked tentatively.

"I think, perhaps, it is time you know the whole story," Inna said softly, inhaling on her cigarette.

"Inna," Mikhail warned softly, "do you think that's wise?"

"I don't know," Inna scoffed, "I don't know anything anymore, but what harm can it do to tell them?"

Mikhail nodded, believing in her decision without a second thought, and moved deftly behind her chair, not touching her, but his presence was enough of a support.

"The story begins," Inna began, "almost ten years ago. The four of us began to go our separate ways, losing touch as most sisters do. I am the oldest. I had joined the military the day after I graduated high school and was rising within the ranks as quickly as I possibly could. Vivka, second in line, had married years earlier and was living a quiet life with her children and husband outside of Moscow. Lanka is the baby and she was determined to be famous. She was dating a movie director and attempting to become an actress. She was the closest to Nadya."

Inna admitted the last sentence with much regret. Time had grown between them like a wall, impenetrable and impossible to scale. They had talked on the phone sometimes, chatted through email when they'd had the chance, but they had not been close by any means. Lanka was only close because Nadya had lived near her, but it was more than Inna had ever hoped to get.

"Nadya had just met a man," Inna continued, "She thought he was the man of her dreams. Rich, successful, handsome, loving- he was everything she'd ever wanted. So when he asked her to marry him, she did not hesitate. A month later, she was pregnant. It seemed like her life was a fairytale and she'd found her happily ever after."

"But?" Peter asked cautiously.

"But then she learned the truth about the man she'd married."

"It was Tyen, wasn't it?" Elizabeth asked.

Inna nodded, "She learned about his criminal activities little by little. And when she discovered how horrible he truly was, she contacted the authorities and offered everything she knew in return for her safety and the safety of her child."

Elizabeth gazed down at Sofia, her fingers stilling in her hair. Inna paused to inhale and exhale the cigarette smoke.

"Yes, Sofia is Tyen's daughter, my niece. That's why he attacked tonight. Not just to kill all of us, but to take her back."

"What happened to Nadya?" Peter asked, but his face said that he already knew.

"The authorities did not offer protection," Inna said, thinly veiling the anger in her words, "They forced Nadya to work undercover, gathering intell for their case against Tyen. She did this for two years, and then Tyen discovered what she was doing. The night he took his revenge, Lanka was visiting. She was supposed to take Sofia shopping. They weren't supposed to be in the house, but Sofia had gotten sick. They were there when the men attacked."

Neal stiffened, reaching for Sofia's hand.

"It happened much like tonight," Inna went on softly, "Two men attacked the house. Nadya had been cautious since accepting the assignment. She carried a gun with her wherever she went. She gunned them down, but not before they shot her and not before they set off a bomb. The house was engulfed in flames and a wall of fire separated Nadya and Sofia from Lanka. They were trapped with no way out. Nadya tossed Sofia across the flames and ordered Lanka to leave. She died in that house."

"That's how Lanka got the scar," Neal whispered, "and why she and Sofia were so afraid of the fire."

Inna nodded, "They both have nightmares. Those scars never really leave."

"So you took Sofia," Peter said, "and ran. And now you've devoted your life to taking Tyen down."

"Five years," Mikhail answered, "That is how long we have been preparing for this. That is how long we have been waiting to put their souls to rest."

Peter raised an eyebrow, "Their?"

"Did you think my sisters and I were the only ones hurt by him?" Inna asked.

"What happened to you?" Elizabeth asked quietly. Inna suspected it was only because she was the one to ask that Mikhail answered.

"My father," Mikhail answered, "He was a proud man, but he had a love of gambling. He borrowed from Tyen, and when he could not pay him back, Tyen took his payment."

Peter gulped, "I'm not sure I really want to ask this, but what was his payment?"

Mikhail's eyes hardened, "His eyes. He took his eyes."

Elizabeth whimpered, covering her mouth as tears of empathy swelled in her throat.

"And Serge?" Peter asked quietly.

"I've already told you his story," Inna answered.

Peter's eyes widened, "The soldier and the woman..."

"Serge's brother and mother," Inna nodded, "So now you know why we are so desparate to destroy him. One act of murder cannot be worse than all of the horrors he has brought upon us and countless others."

"But it's over now," Peter said, "We can't go through with it after tonight. What happened-"

"It will not stop us," Inna answered sharply, "Nothing has changed. We go on with the plan."

"Are you insane?" Peter demanded, jumping to his feet, "You're down one man, Neal is hurt, and Tyen knows you're coming. Why the hell would you go through with this?"

"Because we have nothing left to lose."

Peter shook his head angrily, "I won't let you do this. I won't put Neal in that position."

"You will do as I say," Inna growled, "We will meet with Tyen in three hours. We will follow this through, and you will do everything that is asked of you."

"He knows you're coming."

"He doesn't know me."

Peter stopped, caught off guard, "What?"

"Tyen and I have never met," Inna told him, "and though I do not doubt that he as done his research on Nadya's family, he will not be able to recognize me from photographs," she pointed to her scars, "I have changed much since my years as a soldier. He does not know who I am, he does not know my face. And even though he knows Lanka has Sofia, he does not know that I am with them."

"Yeah," Peter demanded, "and why is that?"

"Because according to the world, I am dead."

"Dead," Peter said, raising his eyebrows, "You?"

"Circumstances years ago persuaded the Russian military to declare me deceased," Inna said, tapping the ash from her cigarette, "I have never endeavored to correct them."

"You're a ghost," Neal said with the faintest of smirks, "No one can track you because technically you don't exist."

"Da, and today, this ghost is going to kill a devil."

A/N: More Neal whump in the following chapter. Your reviews will decide just how much I hurt him! :)

Tupaya sooka- stupid bitch

Bozhe moy- My God

Prosti- I'm sorry

Prosti Menya, sestra- Forgive me, sister

Ya tebya lyublyu, sestrenka- I love you, little sister