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Derek sat in the Super 8 Motel room he'd rented with cash to look through the phone he'd taken off one of the bodies at the docks. He sipped his coffee, trying to keep himself awake. It had been many days without sleep for him and he was trying to make sure his eyes remained open. The clock had struck two thirty in the morning only moments ago and he had driven around an hour after the docks, trying to find a place far enough away for digging through the phone. He started looking through the text messages.

He frowned the entire time he searched. The perp he'd taken the phone off of had used it for his personal phone and apparently had a family that was looking for him. Half the texts came from two sons and a wife and the other half came from people he was working for. There was a plethora of texts from a certain number: 719-334-8659.

Yo, I've got a job.

Talk to me.

I need a woman moved. Getting back at the SOB who killed my brother.

What do you need?

Place to stash her. Well-hidden, no windows.

I've got just what you need.

The texts had been sent two weeks before his birthday. When he thought about it, he realized Penelope had been in Harold's sights for a long time. Derek's fists clenched together and he continued scrolling down the texts to ones sent just two days before Penelope's abduction.

Things progressing well enough?

Yep. We've got the place all set.

Where is it?

Up near the Boston Docks.

Great. Where do we want to meet up?

We'll have to meet up at the docks. I can get you everything there.

There were no more texts between the two numbers and Derek slammed his fist on the table in front of him. Grinding his teeth together, he rose from his seat and began to pace. Harold was most certainly the number that had been demanding the hiding place. Grabbing the phone again, he hit dial angrily and waited as the phone rang. His eyes were burning with both anger and frustration. With the phone still to his ear, he passed a mirror and wasn't surprised to find his face looking terrible. His eyes were bloodshot, his five o'clock shadow from two days ago was spread all over his face, and his clothing was wrinkled. The phone continued to ring and he was almost ready to throw it out the window until someone picked up. "Who is this?" Harold's voice snapped.

Derek's face stretched into a smirk. "Harold," he said. "Bet you weren't expecting to have me call you."

There was some hesitation on Harold's end of the line. "Agent Morgan," he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. "How'd you like my little messenger?" He let out a chuckle. "Did he drive you crazy?"

"Oh, absolutely crazy," Derek growled through gritted teeth. "And he squealed like crazy when his foot got shot off. He squealed so loudly that he let the name of Drake Melvin slip."

Harold was silent another moment. "Who?" he tried to deflect.

"You heard me," Derek hissed. "Drake Melvin. And he told me exactly what he did for you. How he shot Penelope up with drugs to keep her knocked out. He told me about the docks and do you know who I found there?" There was another moment of silence. "That's right," he said. "I found your two little expendables. And then, I'm going to find you. You, you son of a bitch."

Laughing, Harold said, "Then I'll see you soon, I guess. Until then, how about a little homemade video…" The other end of the line went dead and a text rang in on Derek's own cell phone. Taking a deep breath, he picked up the phone and looked at the 1 New Message. He didn't want to open it at all, but there was a chance that with a video there would be more visible and a better chance of finding out a location. Derek pressed the View button and braced himself. He watched as Harold's form towered over Penelope's battered body. Tears trickled from his eyes and down his cheeks.

"Oh, Baby Girl," he murmured. One of Harold's fellow unsubs proceeded to hit her over and over under Harold's order. The jeers and taunts at her stabbed at Derek as well and at the end he was almost too mad to think. It wasn't until he heard her speak that he could hear through the haze of his anger.

"He'll kill you," Penelope's voice said on the video recording. "You're right; I won't live after this. But you won't kill Derek. He'll get you. And then you'll wish you'd never been born."

When the video finished, the final frame rested on a set of boxes just above Penelope's head. He covered his mouth and choked on a gasp. The writing was difficult to make out on the boxes, but it appeared to look like Boston Seafood Shipping Inc. His face looked up at the wall randomly and he felt energized immediately. A clue to finding Penelope.

Wiping his face of any remnants of tears, Derek pulled his jacket back on and got ready to make the journey to the Boston docks. He was going to find Penelope if it was the last thing he did.

XXXXX

"I thought you said you took the phones off of them when we killed them!" Harold was hissing to one of the men around the room. "Now that he has one, he might find us! Do you know what he'll do to us if he finds us?" Penelope was lying on the ground against the wall, her whole body feeling like she'd been run over with a truck. She was looking up at the men who were arguing in front of her.

"Dude, I'm just here to guard the door!"

"Derek Morgan isn't going to see it that way! He'll kill you no matter what!" he growled. The man he was talking to was turning paler and paler every second.

Penelope let out a weak snicker. "You'll all die," she ground out from her seat. She tried sitting up straighter and looked at both the men with a smirk. "You won't last two seconds if he makes it here."

Harold laughed and headed towards her. She glared up at him and didn't relent with her look. He got down on his knees to kneel in front of her. His hand stroked her cheek and she tried to rub her head in the opposite direction. Instead he brought his other hand over her cheek and squeezed tightly. "You're terrible, Penelope," he cooed. "You just never know when to stop talking do you?"

She tried to smile wryly, but her face hurt to do it successfully. "I always have something to say," she said.

"Derek is going to be so proud of his Baby Girl," he said sweetly. "You're such a little fighter."

"Yeah," she hissed. "I am." Using as much strength as she could muster, she slammed her fists into his chest. He let out a groan and she smiled internally. Jumping to her feet, she sprinted forward in a fit of adrenaline. Her weakness made it so she was caught before she was half-way across the room. Harold grabbed her roughly and pushed her against the wall until her head slammed against the concrete. The force against her skull made her head begin to spin. She let out a groan and her vision became blurry with gray stars.

"Feel that, bitch?" he growled in her ear. "I hope that's a lesson to you not to try and run again. Next time you try to run, I'm letting the boys have their way with you. Understand?"

She couldn't respond as she slid down the wall to the floor, unconscious before her body fell limply in a heap.