"So where are we going?" Gideon asked.

Emily's eyes drifted to the window and the Alps beyond. "Up."

Three pairs of eyes followed her gaze. "We're going to cross the Alps like the Von Trapps did in the Sound of Music?" Amie asked in delight.

Emily transferred her gaze to the girl, wondering exactly how old she was. She originally ballparked Amie's age between 18 to 24, but given the air of naivety she was displaying, she bumped her estimate closer to 18. That would explain how she had fallen for the charms of a man like Alain Renaud and not taking into consideration the consequences from stealing and leaving a man of his power. She just wrongly assumed from her previous teenage boyfriends that you just break up and move on to the next. The French girl still had a lot of growing up to do.

"No. They actually went to the station and caught a train to Italy. From there to London before emigrating to the States and eventually settling in Vermont."

"They didn't cross the Alps into Switzerland?"

"That would have been hard since Salzburg is near Germany's border."

"But the movie…"

"I wouldn't take everything you see on film and tv as a fact," Emily pointed out.

"Oh," Amie said slowly, frowning a little bit and then brightened. "At least taking the train wasn't as hard on the children as climbing a mountain would be."

Emily was enjoying herself, feeling a little bit like Reid in the fact-spouting category as she continued to burst the girl's preconceptions of the movie. "Hate to tell you this." No she didn't. "But the Captain and Maria had been married for ten years with two children and a third on the way when they fled Austria. Six out of the original seven children were in their twenties when it happened."

"Why would they change everything?"

She refrained from mentioning that all the kid's names had been changed and they had switched the positions of the two oldest children. "Creative license," she said with a shrug and downed the rest of her orange juice.

As entertaining as the side conversation has been, Gideon decided to get it back onto the original subject. "Are we heading to your grandfather's cabin?"

If she was surprised that he remembered her mentioning it years ago, Emily didn't let it show. "Yes. It's isolated and there is only one way to reach it so we'll be able to see anyone approaching before they see us."

"You really think they'll follow us here?" Noah asked worriedly.

Emily shrugged again. "This is the mob we're dealing with so anything is possible. I'm hoping to buy us a couple of days. Eventually they're going to look deeper into your uncle and me and they'll discover this winery. Hopefully by the time they show up, we'll be long gone."

Gideon started gathering up the dirty dishes. "So what's the plan?"

"I need to make a phone call. I had planned to stop here only long enough to pick up everything, but the snowstorm changed all that."

He nodded in agreement. "We'll clean up in here and you go do what you need to do."

Emily retreated to the dining room to conduct her business and paused at the window. Looking out at the clear morning skies, she was happy the weather seemed to have changed. The storm had passed, at least the worst of it had or so she hoped. Snow blanketed everything and if more was to come, she didn't know where it would go. Sighing, she looked at the sky one more time before moving her gaze to her watch. It was early there in France. It would be the middle of the night back in the States; not the perfect time to call, but something she had to do.

She pulled out the burner phone she had with her, not wanting to turn on her actual phone in fear of being traced. Call it hypervigilance, but she wasn't going to take the risk. With the burner in hand, she typed in a number and hoped there would be an answer.

"Hello?" a sleepy voice said.

"Mom," Emily greeted. She could just imagine her mother in that moment, moving the cell phone from her ear to look at the caller ID again.

"Emily? Where are you calling me from?"

"I'm at the vineyard."

"You are?"

"Yes. Mom, I don't have long to talk I need your help."

Elizabeth's breath stilled and was now wide-awake. "What's going on, Emily? Are you in trouble? What do you need?"

Emily gave her mother the bare minimum of the situation. She didn't want to pull her mother into the fray any more than she had to. If it weren't for Elizabeth's unique ability to help, she wouldn't have even called.

"What can I do?"

"We need a way out. Can you arrange for a private plane or helicopter, anything to get us out here?"

Elizabeth told her daughter to hang on and used a separate house phone to make a call. She informed her daughter that travel was restricted in that area of France. Even though the snow had stopped, there were high winds and another approaching storm that made air travel unsafe. "I can get someone out there as soon as humanly possible, Emily, but it won't be as soon as anyone of us would like."

"I'll take it," Emily said.

She had no choice. So she made arrangements with her mother. The four of them would have to hide out a little longer. If they weren't tracked, they could stay right there on the property until the weather had settled and then off they'd go, but the more logical side of her mind said it wouldn't be that easy. People were out to get them and, if they were any good at their jobs, probably already on their way. She would have to stick with plan B.

"Thank you so much, Mom."

"Be safe, Emily."

"I'll do my best."

With a heavy breath, Emily hung up and returned to he spot at the window, this time, looking toward the garage. In there was their plan B. They would see what the rest of the day brought them. Air travel was bad, and she couldn't imagine land was any better with the snow drifts everywhere, so they might have some time. Still, she wasn't hopeful and wanted to be prepared. So, that was how she spent the rest of the morning, gathering all they would need for the trip up the mountain. The snowmobiles in the garage were already gassed, something she noticed while tucking the car out of sight the previous night. There was snow gear and food. They'd physically have what they needed. That didn't guarantee safety, but it was better than the alternative.

Dave and Hotch were sitting in the latters office shooting the breeze and discussing several cases when Penelope burst in unannounced yelling, "Something's happening. My Emily might be in trouble."

Both men stared at her and when she opened her mouth, Hotch held up a calming hand hoping to cut her off at the pass. "Slow down, Garcia, and tell us what has you in such a panic."

The blonde analyst took a deep breath, found her happy place and slowly released it, feeling calmer and more centered. "As you know I tend to worry when all my chicks aren't safe and sound in the nest."

"That's putting it mildly," Dave quipped, earning a dirty look from him.

"Anyhow," she continued, "My babies showed me some hinky things."

"What does hinky mean here, Garcia?"

"Emily's been hacked!"

"Hacked?"

"Yes. Her credit card information was hacked. You know, like I check histories when we look at victims' lives."

Hotch didn't want to ask the next question, but knew it had to be done. On its own, his hand went up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Why are you monitoring Prentiss' credit card activity? Please tell me you aren't trying to figure out what kind of gift she might have picked up for you."

Penelope's cheeks reddened. "Maybe…" she hedged. "But monitoring her accounts and her cell phone is the only way I can track her and make sure she's safe. I would also do this with her GPS, but it's obvious that she didn't take her car to Paris since you can't drive it over the ocean."

"Do you do this to everyone?" Dave asked, not comfortable with the prospect of Big Sister peeking over his shoulder and watching his every move."

"Not when you're on a case because I know where you all are and what you're doing."

Somehow that didn't make him feel any better. At the same times Hotch made a mental note to have a little chat with her about respecting people's privacy.

"Did you talk to her about it?"

"No. That's the problem. I can't get a hold of her. I can't find her on the cyber grid. She's AWOL." Her voice cracking and making it sound like she was about to lose it.

"Okay. Before everyone starts to panic, let's think this through," Dave said reasonably. "When was the last time you actually talked with Emily?"

"Yesterday morning," she answered immediately. "I called to tell her the burner phone had been turned back on. She promised to call me back and let me know how it went, but she never did."

"Is her phone on?"

"No."

"Can you turn it on remotely?"

Penelope's eyes widened in a 'aha' moment and held up her index finger. "Seusami," she said and bolted from the room.

Dave shrugged and turned his attention to Hotch. "When did you last talk to Emily?"

"Two nights ago," he answered, keeping it intentionally vague. What they had discussed that night was personal. "You?"

"I haven't spoken to her since the day she left for Paris. I refrained from calling because she would assume I'm acting like an overprotective father and checking up on her."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Acting like an overprotective father?"

Dave gave it a little thought before answering with a smile. "Sometimes. I do admit it is a rather nice feeling."

"It is and it looks good on you," Hotch agreed, returning the smile with one of his own.

Penelope flew back in as quickly as she departed with her laptop in tow. She flopped down in an empty chair, cleared a corner of Hotch's desk much to his annoyance for the computer and got down to work, fingers flying over the keys. After a few minutes of frantic typing, she slumped back in her seat, a defeated sigh escaping her lips.

"It didn't work?" Hotch commiserated.

"Nope," she said with a shake of the head. "Em must be somewhere cell phones don't work or her phone has been smashed into a gazillion pieces and she's…"

"Take a deep breath, Garcia. You're overreacting to something that is probably nothing."

"Right, right. Of course."

Dave stroked his goatee thoughtfully. "You said someone hacked into Emily's account?" Penelope nodded. "Did you happen to check Gideon's accounts on the off chance they did the same to his?"

She sat up straighter in her chair, the possibility of doing another search lighting up her eyes. "No, I didn't," she said excitedly, attacking the laptop with renewed enthusiasm.

Off to the side Dave gave Hotch a knowing nod and the two men settled back to await the result of her latest search. Both were harboring thoughts that the technical analyst was blowing the whole thing out of proportion, as she was wont to do when it involved someone from the team. With Penelope in her element it didn't take long to get their answer and it was one they weren't expecting.

"They did," she announced. "Both hacks have the same signature so they were done by the same guy."

The two agents exchanged worried looks. What had been a simple over reaction in their books has just turned into something more sinister feeling.

"That's too much of a coincidence for my liking," Dave said at last.

"Agreed. Anything similar on either account?"

Penelope pulled up Emily's statement and compared it to Gideon's. "Nope…wait. They checked out of their hotel yesterday afternoon."

"Then they could already be on their way home."

"I would think Emily would've called you to let you know she's on her way back," Dave pointed out.

"Checking the airline they flew to Paris on," Penelope mumbled more to herself, eyes scanning the information scrolling down the screen. "They flew on an open ended ticket. They're more expensive, but it makes sense since they didn't know how long they would be." The keys clicked loudly. "In the past twenty-four hours they didn't check in for any flights back to the States."

"Then where are they?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. You guys are the profilers, I'm not."

"I don't like this," Hotch declared, reaching for his phone. "We need to know more about the case."

Penelope frowned. "Don't you need like…jurisdiction to ask those kind of questions? Do you have that?"

"I don't, but I know someone who can get what we need."

Dave smirked. "Easter?"

"Easter."

When Clyde answered the phone and realized who it was, he was automatically suspicious. It wasn't often the two had any form of communication, and if they did, it involved Emily and it wasn't usually just a friendly chat. A little gruffly, Clyde asked Hotch what was going on and if Emily was all right. In return, Hotch told him that Emily was in France. She was helping out an old colleague and the task proved a little hard than originally anticipated. That, in itself, wasn't a problem, but now no one could seem to reach her and there was some suspicious activity on both her and Gideon's credit cards. Naturally, Clyde was concerned now as well. He asked a few questions, trying to gather as much information as possible. Finally, knowing he was now privy to all Hotch knew, he said, "I'll look into it and ring you once I know more."

"Thank you," Hotch replied, hoping the call would come an they'd learn they were just overreacting.

A nerve-wracking hour passed before the phone rang. A quick glance at the caller ID told Hotch who it was and he put it on speakerphone. "Easter."

Everyone in the room knew there was no love lost between the two alpha males. Hotch thought the Brit was an arrogant prick and if he had been more forthcoming about the Doyle case, they might have been able to get to Emily before Doyle stabbed her with the broken table leg and ripping her out of their lives for five painful months.

"Hotchner," Clyde replied with equal disdain. "I've done some digging and it seems our Emily has gotten herself in a bit of a sticky wicket there."

"Sticky wicket?" Penelope whispered to Reid who, along with JJ and Derek, had joined the rest in Hotch's office after hearing the news.

"Spot of trouble," he translated.

"What kind of trouble?" Morgan was quick to ask.

"The kind Emily always seems to find herself in," Clyde started. "A source informed me that Emily interacted with a few policemen on their watch list."

"What watch list?" Hotch asked, wondering just how bad this was.

"What is it you call it, a dirty cop? The officer was being watched in connection to a secret criminal network involving many public figures."

"You think he's on someone's payroll?"

"Yes. That is the theory. He was being monitored to see who he interacted with outside of the job. After the death and Emily's arrival, he became a bit more on edge, specifically in the last couple of days."

"And Emily, how does she fit in?"

"The death she was looking into was in the cop's district and is believed to be connected to one of the major players in the network. I wasn't able to get all the specifics as this is an ongoing investigation I'm not a part of."

"How bad is this for Emily?" Penelope asked.

"We don't know, but with your help, one of the analysts here was able to match the code used to hack into the card histories to the same hacker that is believed to work for the syndicate based on the signature. That hacker remains unknown, but it's enough to say that Emily and your friend have been pulled into something. It's safe to assume Emily has found herself in quite the situation. The ties in this range from the mob, to police, to politicians."

Everyone in the office exchanged worried looks. What had started off as a simple body identification has turned into a major corruption and their friend seems to have landed right in the middle of it.

"If Emily figured out what was going on, what would she do?" JJ asked.

"She would hunker down somewhere she thought was safe and call for an extraction," Clyde answered immediately. "And it is obvious she didn't call me. So bloody stubborn she is."

"If she didn't call you or Hotch," Dave spoke up. "Who would she call for help?"

Mother Nature made the decision for them. When the weather alert radio announced another storm approaching, Emily knew it was time to go. If they waited too long, the falling snow would make the ascent much more difficult though it would cover their tracks and make it appear they were never there in the first place. She rounded everyone up, got them bundled up against the cold and led them out to the garage where their rides waited. Emily started to show Gideon how the snowmobile worked when he gruffly told her he has driven one before and she promptly shut up.

Ideally she would have liked the weight more evenly distributed between the two snowmobiles by riding as mixed couples, but Emily was afraid Gideon would "accidentally" lose Amie somewhere on the way up. So the girl was riding with her while Noah rode with his Uncle. With Amie's arms wrapped tightly around her waist, so tight she was threatening to cut off Emily's air supply, she gassed the machine and took off, starting the long and potentially dangerous trek to the cabin.

The last storm made the ride a bit crazy. The fluffy top layer of snow was flying in the stirring winds, whipping at them as they drove. Fallen branches were scattered on the trails making it more like an obstacle course. It was messy, their clothes were slick with melted snow, and their noses all frozen, but they were making headway.

There was a lot of land to cover. The cabin was pretty isolated and Emily wanted to make it before it got too dark, so she urged Gideon on. The incoming inclement weather seemed to be following them, ready to throw more of the white powder onto them at any moment. So, she sped on and Gideon followed until, at last they arrived.