In the first time writing this I completely ignored the time zones, but for the rewrite I actually put effort into making sure that everything was as close to accurate as I could get. Dylan, Merritt, and Henley are all in the same time zone, so it is sometime between midnight and one in the morning. In Kansas, Daniel is an hour behind, and in California Jack is three hours behind. I really hope that is correct.

Disclaimer: Neither Now You See Me, the characters, or the lyrics that appear at the beginning of each chapter belong to me.

Up to You

Shatter every window 'til it's all blown away.
Every brick, every board, every slamming door blown away.
'Til there's nothing left standing, nothing left of yesterday.
Every tear-soaked whiskey memory blown away.
~Blown Away by Carrie Underwood

A block away from the FBI building, he slipped his work phone into the pocket of a random businessman heading in the other direction. He felt a pang of remorse for the trouble he was bringing on that man, but it couldn't be helped. Two blocks away from the building, he slipped into an alleyway to quickly change into the clothes he had stashed away before going to meet Bradley. He emerged from the alley in a simple grey T-shirt and dark jeans with a nondescript black jacket and wearing glasses and a New York baseball cap. Despite that the sun had long since set and it was no late into the night, the streets were still bustling, something he was grateful for, even if it meant getting knocked around a bit before he could find the flow. Though he wanted nothing more than to call the Horsemen and warn them that they needed to run, he knew that he had to make sure he was safe before risking them any further. He melted easily into the crowd, though it hurt to make sure he walked at the same pace as everyone else so as not to stick out.

He was fifteen blocks away before he turned into an alley and pulled the burner cell out of his pocket.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up." He muttered under his breath as his eyes scanned both ends of the alley, making sure he was alone. He breathed a sigh of relief when Henley offered a cheerful, if slightly slurred, greeting.

"Hey, Agent Rhodes. Isn't it a little late to be calling?"

"I've been found out," he got straight to it, looking around the alley once more. "Bradley's out and he has men on you and the others. You have to get out, now."

"What?" Her voice rose just a hitch. "How?"

"There's no time to explain. Just get out of there as fast as you can. Leave, now!"

"And go where?"

"Anywhere, just get out of Florida, now."

He paused to let her reply, but there was silence.

"Henley?"

He was rewarded with the sound of her phone hitting the ground.

"Henley!"

The phone disconnected and Dylan frantically called her back, but it went straight to voicemail. The panic that he had felt earlier was nothing to the pure terror that swept over him as he hit Merritt's number and nervously began to pace the alley. When Merritt didn't pick up it was all Dylan could do to not scream out. Of the four, Henley and Merritt were the two most likely to pick up. Henley would never cut him off, and Merritt would always answer after the second call. The fact that he had now called four times and Merritt still hadn't answered him set Dylan even more on edge then he already was. He called Daniel once, knowing that he wouldn't get an answer. Jack was last, but it was the same story.

Dylan gripped the phone tightly, practically growling in his frustration. Though he hoped that it was a simple case of not being able to answer the phone because they were distracted, his belief in that was fading fast. Bradley had implied that he had people on the Horsemen. He had implied that they were being followed and Dylan believed him. He knew how desperate, how angry, Bradley was and he knew that it wouldn't end well his Horsemen. Forcing himself to calm down and use his mind, he thought back to the conversation with Henley. Her voice had been slurred, but there was no background noise, so she must have either already returned home from the bar or was walking back. There had been no indications of a struggle, but there were plenty of ways to keep a kidnapping silent. Except for the phone dropping. Henley was an escape artist, she was good with her hands, and she never dropped her phone so long as she could hold it.

No, the only reason Henley would drop her phone would be if it was a matter of herself or the phone. So, Dylan had to assume that Bradley's men had taken her. But taken her where? He had no clue where to begin. And with the other Horsemen not answering, he had to assume the worst. His heart began to pound again and he knew he was about to hyperventilate, but he didn't know if he could stop himself this time. So much had changed and he was running on too little sleep, it was a miracle he could even think straight. He went to put the phone back in his jacket pocket before he dropped it. As he stuck his hand in the pocket, he felt a card.

Barely breathing, he pulled the card out. It was a tarot card—the fool—much like the one he had received upon first joining the Eye and he briefly thought back to all the people he had collided shoulders with. He frantically turned it over, skimming past the address and time to the words written just below the symbol of the Eye. We have done all we can. The rest is up to you. A manic grin broke his face before he glanced at his watch and cursed. He had barely two minutes to get to the address, and it was several blocks away. Bursting out of the alley, he weaved through the relatively crowded streets at a full sprint. Breathing hard, he skidded to a halt with thirty seconds to spare. His eyes scanned the streets before coming to rest on a black car with tinted windows and the symbol of an eye on the license plate. Praying he was right, he walked to the car as quickly as he could without raising suspicion and climbed into the back. A black screen separated the front of the car from the back, blocking the driver and passenger from seeing other in order to protect the other's identity.

"Welcome, Mr. Shrike." The voice was run through a changer, so Dylan had no clue who was in the car with him. "You were nearly too late."

"The Horsemen are in danger." There was no time for small talk.

"We know." Despite the robotic disguise, the voice was calm as the car pulled out into traffic. "A plane is waiting to take you wherever you wish. We regret to inform you that this is all the Eye can do to help or else we risk exposing the entire organization."

"If Bradley has his way," Dylan seethed, understanding the reasoning but hating it none-the-less, "The Eye will be exposed regardless of whether you help me or not."

"We are an hour away from the plane. Make yourself comfortable, Mr. Shrike. You have a long journey ahead."

With that, the driver fell into silence. Dylan leaned back and ran his hands across his face and rubbed his eyes. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off and was quickly replaced by exhaustion. Though he wanted to do nothing but sleep, he couldn't stop thinking of all that had happened. He had hoped that by having Bradley arrested he could stop whatever the man had planned, or at the very least pause it long enough to get everyone to safety. Instead he had walked right into a trap and now the Horsemen were in danger because of his stupid mistake. Revenge was what had driven him after Bradley in the first place, and now it was that same revenge that was driving Bradley after him. The man was dangerous to begin with, but when he was angry? There was no telling what the older man would or wouldn't do to get revenge against them.

He needed information, a plan, anything and everything. But most importantly, he needed to know what had happened to the Four Horsemen.