A/N: Warning! Parts of this are going to be dark and slightly graphic. Don't say I didn't warn you… Also Thanks for the reviews guys! Also thanks to Kat for the French lesson. Like I said before, I don't speak any French except what I learned in ballet when I was like, 12. Spanish is my (mostly) second language… But we all know Ian speaks French so… I'll just try and wing it huh?

"Vengeance is mine, and I will repay."

Leo Nikolaevich Tolstoy

Ian walked quickly to the front door. The housekeeper said a package had been delivered outside the front gate. They'd brought it in and it was waiting for him in his study. It had been addressed with only the word Emily scribed in bold black handwriting. He'd been dreading this moment from the second she'd gone missing…

He grabbed the padded yellow envelope. It had been 2 weeks now. He and Garcia had narrowed it down to 2 people and he had people tailing their every move, but so far. Nothing. Working with Penelope Garcia had been interesting if not uneventful. She seemed utterly terrified of him, but that only seemed to make her talk even more and even more quickly. Other than dinners with Declan, he'd spent every waking moment in his study, tracking down contacts and leads. Not that he'd slept much… Every day he was here looking, was another second Emily was alone with them. And that did not sit well with him… Not at all.

He pulled out the contents of the envelope once he had gone into the study and locked the door behind him. He'd been leaving it unlocked lately so that Garcia could come in whenever she'd found something new. But, not knowing what he would find, he did not want to be interrupted. It looked like a dvd of some sorts. Blank, silver, and whatever this was, he knew it could not be anything good. He held it between his fingers for a moment, closing his eyes. He had to prepare himself for the possibility of the fact he might be about to watch the execution of Emily Prentiss.

He took a deep breath and stuck the dvd into the dvd player. At first an empty cement room appeared. Until he noticed a crumpled figure wearing a black and white dress in the corner. Emily. Her hair was in disarray and she was motionless. Then two massive looking men walked in from underneath the camera view. One of them held a small syringe in his left hand. They approached Emily, slowly kneeling down next to her. The one with the syringe grabbed her limp arm and injected something into her. Slowly she opened her eyes. Her brown eyes were filled with confusion and fear. She looked around her in disorientation. She was lost. Ian bit his lip, but continued to watch. Minutes passed as the 2 men circled around her as she got her bearings. One of them spit on her, and she tried feebly to kick him but the drugs slowed her down and he easily stepped out of her way. The one currently behind her lifted her up underneath her arms so she was standing. She teeter-tottered unstably, her eyes rolling around. She was going to pass out. Ian started pacing in front of the television screen. He knew what was about to happen. The men started pushing her back and forth between them for a minute, and when she was being flung back towards the camera instead of being tossed back, the man backhanded her. Ian threw the remote as hard as he could, aiming at anything breakable. He was rewarded when he hit a antique vase from Ireland and it shattered into a million pieces.

He didn't want to watch anymore. He couldn't stand to see the beating Emily was now receiving. Her cries for him were almost unbearable. He turned back towards the TV, still pacing. He had to know, though. He had to watch and make sure she was still…Alive. Emily's face was bloody and she was laying on the floor, shaking uncontrollably. She was crying out for him. Begging him to come save her and he could do nothing but watch. After a kick to the back of the head, Emily laid silent and still. She was still breathing, just unconscious. But, nothing, Nothing he'd ever done or witnessed in his miserable depraved life could have ever prepared him for the torture he witnessed next.

They raped her. 2 men. Raped his beloved Emily. While she was unconscious, unmoving. She couldn't have fought them off even if she'd been able to. Ian stopped pacing. He could feel whatever soul he had left in him, leave… There was no boundary, no line he would not cross now. All bets were off now. This dvd had been the wrong idea. They had meant it to torture him psychologically, and it had. Ian would have rather had his fingernails pried back with bamboo like they had in back in the Vietnam era. Ian stopped the dvd. The two men had turned around to leave, Emily lie behind them, twitching as whatever drug they'd given her circulated through her tired, starved, beaten body. She was still alive. For now.

Whoever had done this would wish to whatever god they prayed to that he had the mercy to put a bullet right to their head and end it swiftly otherwise…Well, he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't enjoy putting them through everything Emily had endured…tenfold.

Garcia paced anxiously in front of Ian's study. She had done it! She had located the nearest warehouse owned by one of their top 2 suspects and she'd just heard from one of Ian's surveillance people that Casey MacCarthy had been seen entering the warehouse herself. She'd immediately rushed to find Ian in his study, but when she'd arrived the door had been locked. This was odd, because Ian had told her it would remain unlocked so that any update could be brought to him immediately…

She waited outside, knocking. Nothing. Then a moment later she heard something inside shatter loudly with a loud yell. She paused. Holding her breath. This was not good. So not good. She was terrified of Ian's temper. She'd heard countless times from Derek, this man's profile and it was not a happy one generally speaking. She thought about leaving, going back to her computer screen, where she felt safe. But she didn't this was for Emily. Emily needed them. She took a deep breath and pounded on the door again, calling his name.

She was about to knock again, when the door opened. Ian looked like hell. His face was white, and his jaw was clenched tightly. His eyes though, his eyes were murderous…

"What Garcia?" He said tightly.

"Ian, Ian -I think we've found her. I mean, well, where she could be. Where they could be hiding her. Emmett called. He said he'd been trying to reach you. They followed Casey MacCarthy to the warehouse I tracked down. It's large enough to hide Emily in and it's family owned. It's for a local shipping company that ships from here to Ireland. Ian, this could be where Emily is!"

Ian looked at her intently, before he pulled out his phone and dialed someone. "Get everyone. Now. It's time…" And he hung up, before he looked at her one more time. "Garcia are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm like 99% positive. We already made sure she couldn't have left the country, and the MacCarthy's were on our list, they own a warehouse here in Dubai… I mean it all fits!" Garcia said emphatically. They were wasting time! Emily had been waiting long enough.

"Fine. I'll be back in a few hours. Call Emmett and have him watching the warehouse until we arrive." Ian said firmly, dialing someone else as he spoke.

"Okay, on it." Garcia said pulling out her phone, before scurrying away back to her computer in the living room. They were going to save Emily and the baby… She just had a feeling. Just in what shape she was in when they found her was a different story…

Ian dialed his phone for a second time. He needed everyone assembled and ready to go in half an hour. He would not wait a second more. He walked to the front door and stood on the porch, watching as men scurried around loading guns and ammo onto the waiting pick-up trucks. He would save Emily. He just prayed he was not too late…