AN: A caution for this chapter- it's a little jumpy, kind of on purpose, and there is a little bit of Nate bashing because, as much as I respect Nate's brilliance and his ability to care, he tends to keep too many secrets and loses sight of smaller issues if they get in the way of his overall goal.

She heard a scream. It wouldn't stop. Where was the noise coming from? She screamed. It hurt more than almost anything she had experienced before.

Hardison winced as the woman on the screen screamed again. Elliot had refused to let them turn the video call off or mute it in any way. Instead he sat and watched his lover scream as Moreau jabbed various implements into her and then pulled the various things out of her. Hardison had never imagined the kind of pain that one man could inflict on others. This had been going on for hours. Sophie and Nate would flit in and out of the room, mostly making sure that Elliot hadn't gotten it in his head to do something stupid. Parker had adopted her sad-puppy confused faced, not knowing how to handle the situation, and he had focused on doing his job, finding ways into Moreau's mansion, into the government buildings, and into the President's office.

Every burst of pain came with a flash of light in front of her eyes. They added to the pain. Building, building, until it burst. Her voice was hoarse from the screams.

The silence, when it came, was sudden and deafening. All five of them focused all their attention on the screen. Jasmine had finally, mercifully passed out. Moreau turned toward the camera at that point, his shirt speckled with blood, "This is your last warning Spencer. Get out of my country; stop meddling around in things that don't concern you." With that statement the screen went black.

She felt like a rag doll. Thrown around, boneless. Dolls couldn't feel…so she couldn't be a doll…what was she? Where was she?

Elliot collapsed. It wasn't the same as back in Boston where he had gotten angry, he wasn't crying or raging, instead he had folded in on himself, absolutely silent. This was the most terrified of Elliot that any of them had ever been. The pure, cold, calculated fury was completely new. No one had seen that look in his eyes before, in fact, only one person alive in this world would recognize his look, and that was the woman who had been tortured on the television screen.

With deliberate movements Elliot pulled out his cell-phone and held down the number two. "Malfoy," he said, "The situation has reached a terminal point. There has been damage done."

Nothing could describe the pain she was feeling. She needed to find someone, someone important, make sure he was okay.

There was a pause, "I understand," and another, "everything until now has gone according to plan…yes they're in position…no I haven't spoken to Sterling…alright."

He disconnected that call and placed another, "Sterling? It's time…Malfoy will handle that…not that I know of…He was but," Elliot glanced at Nate, "I'm removing that decision from him…I understand…tonight."

Next Elliot turned to Sophie, "Call Tara, tell her to start recording those news segments. Hardison will start playing them."

He then focused on Hardison, "Once Tara e-mails you the segments get them out to as many people as possible. Send the other e-mails as well. They need to be out by 10 am tomorrow, that's when the cavalry will be arriving."

He turned again, "Parker, I need you to break into the prison and steal a general and his men for me."

There was anger all around her. Who were they mad at? Her? Someone else? The important person?

Nate opened his mouth to interrupt, but Elliot beat him to it, "Nate, you are sitting this one out. I'm the person who has the most to lose and every one of your decisions during this case has only made things worse. You have not listened to the multitude of cautions I have given; you don't get to make any more decisions regarding this case. I have contacts outside who won't speak with you and don't trust you to handle this, we need their help in the next few days. I'm asking you as a friend, please don't make me force you."

The other members of the team turned to Nate, awaiting his response. He only nodded and sat down next to Hardison.

Was someone coming? HELP! HELP! Nothing was coming out. It was so quiet.

Draco Malfoy slammed his phone down and stood, knocking his chair over in his haste. He strode rapidly over to the large fireplace that took up half of wall across from his desk, picked up the vase that held a bright green powder and threw into the fire. He knelt and put his head in the fire, shouting "Kingsley Shacklebolt, minister of magic."

"Lord Malfoy? What can I do for you?" Kingsley knelt down across from his fireplace.

Draco sighed and began filling him in on the situation, "So that's why I need permission to act against a muggle."

Kingsley sat back against his heels and ran a hand over his head while he thought. If the incident was taking place within British soil then giving his permission would be an easy decision, however, the fact that this was an international incident changed things. Both the muggle and magical British governments would forgive almost anything if it related to the safety of Jasmine Potter, after all she sacrificed everything, including her life and magic, to save them.

Something was thrumming under her skin…it wanted to escape. She recognized this feeling, thrilled in it. But it wasn't coming…how was she supposed to access it?

"Lord Malfoy, Draco, you do realize the international issues that would be raised with any action you take?"

"I do, but this is for the protection of two magical citizens in pursuit of a known criminal and I will do it without permission if needed Kingsley."

"Very well. I will grant you official Ministry permission to act in San Lorenzo, but it is limited to entering, retrieving Jasmine and Teddy, and leaving. Do not cause any problems with their government."

"Thank you Minister Shacklebolt." Draco said as he pulled his head out of the fire. He took a deep breath and called his connection to Jasmine's 'Army', the twins.

The screaming had started again. Was it her this time? She couldn't tell.

Elsewhere in England, James Sterling was making a similar call, though his was directed to his boss at Interpol. The three men in charge of the plan were banking on the hopes that Interpol, and therefore the ICW, would overlook the events in San Lorenzo for a chance to remove Moreau from the international markets.

Once he managed to get connected to the director of Interpol's line he was quick to explain the situation to him. Sterling faced a very tense fifteen-minute wait before he received a cautionary conformation of permission to act with Lord Malfoy and his extraction team. Considering that Moreau, at the very least, was somewhat aware of the existence of small magic, they assumed that the ICW would be willing to overlook limited magic use in a muggle affair.

Something was going to give, pop! inside of her.