Lizzie did not understand why she was the one who got to sit around and do nothing all of the time. It was boring. They were wasting so much time. Getting the address was simple...

The man had called her on her cell phone. She was not stupid, she knew that if they had used their own phone it would be so she could find them and pretend to be dumb enough to go there on her own. If they didn't want her to find her, they definitely would have used one of those disposable ones. She watched enough crime drama to know.

She knew they wanted her. She also knew, however, that if she wanted to get in, she would have to go alone.

The thought had been going in and out of her head for a while now. It was dangerous. It was a risk. She could never come out. She didn't know what she was doing, at all...

But she couldn't let Jackie or her Uncle Joe go in there. The bad guys would kill them on the spot.

That's when she decided she would take matters into her own hands.

"So you are telling me you have absolutely no information on the whereabouts of your siblings?" Baker questioned, the disgust evident in her voice.

"It's not like they are floating a blimp that says... 'Reagans are here!'" Joe sarcasmed in a way that reminded them all of Danny.

"We know that the Rodriguez brothers are involved. They are with the rest of the group... we don't have anything else..." Jackie added, a frown forming on her lips.

"You don't even know who is leading the group? What their purpose for this is?"

"We suspect it is the Blue Templar. Their purpose is to get the Commissioner to give up his position and gain power in the NYPD." Joe said, giving Baker's confirmation on what she already knew.

"They want Frank." She murmured several times to get the idea to stick in her head. "Aha!"

"What?"

"That means the perpetrators are possibly on leave from the NYPD... that shortens the list of suspects! We need a computer!" Baker jumped up from her chair, startling both Jackie and Joe. "Come on! I have access to every NYPD file there is!"

So Jackie, Joe, and Abigail made their way back to Joe's apartment. Lizzie was using the computer, trying to find the cell phone tracker that she needed to get the address, but she couldn't find what she was looking for.

"Lizzie!" Jackie called out when the door slammed. She quickly closed the tab and went back to the She Loves Me soundtrack that she was listening to while playing spider solitaire.

When the three of them showed up at the door to the study, Lizzie simply waved, feeling her face getting hot.

"Hi... I'm Lizzie..." she greeted, standing up to walk over and shake Baker's hand.

"Wait... dead Lizzie?" She looked over at Joe and raised her eyebrows.

"Yes. But now is not the time. Use the computer." He guided, and Baker sat down, pulling a flash drive out and sticking it in. Suddenly tens of NYPD tabs opening, filling the screen. They appeared to be lists of suspected Templar members with a picture of each one.

"How do we narrow it down?"

"Any way to cross check people on vacations to suspected Templar members?"

"Yes." One click gave them four names and four pictures. One was in Germany, one was still in New York, and two were in Canada...

It was when Lizzie saw the red headed man that she remembered the red headed woman that had dragged her into this mess. Her Uncle Joe had said she didn't work for him anymore... did that mean she was in jail for breaking the rules, or she was working even higher up... Lizzie didn't know.

Should she ask them?

"Hey gu-" Lizzie started only to be cut off by Baker.

"Did you check with Chicago PD for their list of possible threats in the police force?" The look shared between Jackie and Joe gave Baker confirmation. "Well then, let's go."

"Uncle Joe... what happened to Agent Anderson?" Baker and Jackie walked out of the room, and Joe looked irritated at her asking.

"She left her job for undisclosed reasons."

"Was she a bad guy?"

Her Uncle didn't answer her, and that left Lizzie a tad pissed. He said they were on the same side yet he wouldn't even give her a real answer.

"Reagan! Let's go!" Baker called from the other room.

"Lizzie. Stay here." Joe ordered before walking out. Once she heard the front door slam, she flopped herself down in the office chair where she once sat.

How could she find out what had happened to the red headed agent? She worked for the FBI, there was no way for her to get any access into those files, even if Baker had left the flash drive in the computer, which she hadn't.

She rubbed her hands up and down her face, not having any idea what to do. She needed a sign.

Then the phone started ringing.

"Lizzie..." Was the only word that came out of Danny's mouth. They hadn't confirmed that they were talking about that niece, heaven forbid they were talking about Nicky, but he had had a feeling. He knew since he saw that "lawyer".

His niece was very much alive.

He had wanted so much in that moment to just hug her. But he couldn't let Lizzie get involved with any of this. He had hoped letting her out of there would have somehow kept her safe from the line of fire. If she was working undercover then surely she had some form of protection. He was not going to blow that cover.

What was he even fighting for anymore? That's what Danny wanted to know. He had run to Chicago to find out what had happened to his dead niece's parents, who had probably been murdered by her biological father. Then her father had been found dead. Then he was kidnapped by a ton of fake cops. Then his sister was too.

And now his niece.

"You're lying." He spit at the boss man. "My niece is dead."

"Actually, I already called her. She's on her way over here as we speak. She's really missed you, Uncle Danny."

That certain redheaded female did not like orange jumpsuits. It had been almost a week, why hadn't her husband paid bail for her yet?

She really hated the color orange.

Joe Reagan claimed she had committed fraud... all she had been doing was talking on the phone with her husband... who just happened one of the men trying to take down a couple of the Reagans at a funeral. Nothing wrong with that.

"You're one of them!" He had hissed after pulling her down to the ground. "I trusted you with everything I have, and you're one of them!"

"You stupid son of a bitch," she had retorted. "Can't you see that the Reagans are going down? All of them are slowly going down... there is nothing you can do about that."

"Just tell me this." He had asked after getting off of her, leaving her handcuffed laying face down on the floor. "Did you even love your husband?"

"No." She spit out. "He was a son of a bitch. But he threatened to kill me, so I did what he said."

She shook the thoughts away. The bail was a million dollars. There was no way that she was going to be able to get out. Her so called husband would never save her. He was too wrapped up in his own thing, trying to be the man who saved New York from a so called corrupt Commissioner.

The truth was, she had loved her husband. She had loved him 20 years ago when they met. When he was a cop, after he was fired. He went crazy, obsessing himself with the NYPD. She knew that eighteen years ago he had raped a woman and let another man take the fall.

When she started working for the FBI, that was his doing. It was all his plan.

She had never wanted to do it. He threatened to kill her so many times.

What was she going to do now? Newsflash, her knight in shining armor wasn't coming.

"Hey!" She screamed to one of the guards. "Tell Reagan I'll talk."

"Hello?"

"Is this Joseph Reagan?" The man on the other side of the phone asked. Lizzie immediately began getting an anxiety attack. She didn't know what was coming over her...

"This is his secretary. Whom may I ask, is calling?"

"The Chicago Jail. The suspect most likely involved is saying she wants to talk."

"Mr. Reagan is a very busy man. He won't be back for a few more days. Let me talk to him. I'm Reagan's right hand man after all..."

What the hell was she even saying? She couldn't sit across from the person who had probably been the reason that her uncle and mother were missing, and that Jackie had gotten shot. It was most certainly the reason she had been 'killed'.

Wait a minute, could this be-

"It's a her. And you have to have a valid ID proving your identity and connection to Mr. Reagan. Otherwise it is a no-go. You have a nice day."

What was this guy's definition of nice?

He had figured it out. It had only taken him five hours to figure out how to make sure Erin wouldn't die...

He would call a doctor!

Not just any doctor though...

"Everything you see in that room is completely confidential. Do you understand?"

The man almost looked like a villain. With what was remaining of his hair bright white, and the wrinkles on his face, he looked like a mad scientist from the movies.

He didn't know what he was doing here anyways, so he simply nodded, grasping his briefcase in hand very carefully. Walking into a bare gray room with nothing but a bed made him absolutely sick.

It made him even more sick when he saw the woman tied down to the bed. Was she even alive anymore? He couldn't tell if she was breathing just by looking. Putting his hand to her neck, he sensed the weak heartbeat. She could still be fixed. At least physically.

Pulling out a cream, he began sterilizing the rashes on her stomach from the whip with alcohol. The woman felt it, for she started whimpering softly, but he shushed her. That must have made it worst, because then she started trying to kick him.

"Whoa there! You can put those kickers away. I'm a doctor. One who is here to help you."

Erin was just plain confused.

"I'm the guy they hired to make it look like this never happened. That you were never raped. Believe it or not, that part was not apart of the great plan to take down the NYPD. This guy was just the collector."

Erin nodded, looking like she was in a lot pain because hell she was.

"I'm going to fix you up. Then we'll talk about your plans for the future."

"You are most definitely not Joe Reagan. But you are most definitely his clueless niece. What do you want?"

Even though the redhead was handcuffed to the table, Lizzie was still hella nervous being alone in the same room as her. It was an interrogation room, sure, there were people watching this whole thing on a live camera, ready to attack if something happened, but she still had a pit forming in her stomach. She gulped.

"Your help. You see, I don't know much about how your life looks from here. But I do know that you have a better chance of getting a little better of a sentence if you tell me what you know."

"Do you think its that simple, girl? I am just going to give you all the answers? I am still going to go to jail for the rest of my life for this, no matter what I tell you."

"Okay then. But you can still tell me why you "killed me", made me your puppet doll, and then kidnapped my mother and aunt, and then tried to kidnap me?"

"I don't have to answer to you."

"You called because you wanted to talk Anderson! I am not the one who made that call! You did! Which means you know what a deep pile of shit you are in, and that you are desperate to do some good to equal out all of the bad!" Lizzie was now pacing around the room, her hands were shaking, and she was on the verge of tears.

"Alright, I'll tell you what I know." She mumbled.

If this guy was trying to get Erin to trust him, he was doing a hell of a good job. Mostly because he actually respected her... enough to give her some clothes. He even offered to look away, but then they both realized Erin was too weak to put the clothes on herself, so he helped her. And as he did, he asked her if she felt comfortable.

She hadn't felt this calm in weeks! Must have been the drugs. Erin honestly didn't care anymore if he was drugging her for a purpose other than to kill the pain. She was done trying to fight this. She didn't really know what was in store for her at this point in her life.

"There you go." He lightly grasped her lower back, helping her to balance as she put her legs one at a time into a pair of pajama pants.

"What is the point of all of this? He's going to rape me again anyways." She started pacing around the room, trying to regain feeling in her legs.

"He couldn't even if he wanted to. It's time he shipped you to the next place."

"What exactly is this next place?" She asked.

"I don't know much. I just know that you are bait for the NYPD. I honestly don't know anymore than you do."

"So are you one of them or not?"

"No, I'm not. I'm a doctor. An actual doctor. One that wants to save lives."

"So what are you doing here?"

"I may have had my medical license revoked for a little misunderstanding. No hospitals or clinics will hire me. So I run off of a Craigslist ad, and people contact me when they don't want to go to a medical office because they don't have insurance or whatever."

"And they just let you in here? How did they know you wouldn't be revolted by what you saw?"

"I signed a contract stating that I was not allowed to say anything about what I saw. Besides, the guys out there have torture machines... and guns... I got the message pretty clearly."

"Are you married? Any kids?"

"I used to be. Wife took the kids and left after I left my job. Two girls, one was five and one was nine at the time. I never got to see how they grew up."

Erin took a deep breath. "I am a lawyer... I can help you find them."

"Not when they will kill me the minute I walk out there. I'm not stupid. They wouldn't want anyone knowing where they were keeping the ADA that has been all over the news for weeks."

"I'm all over the news?"

"Yeah. Your father is really desperate. And I think that I know how to get us out of here."