He hangs up the phone, clearly, angered. His colleagues look up, as he slams the receiver down. Munch looks over at him.

"Fin, everything ok?"

"No. That was ESU. They are still processing."

"That's ok," John insists.

"They're almost finished, and they still haven't found a single shred of evidence. Other than the jimmied door, there is no evidence that anyone was even there."

He steps closer to her. She uneasiness grows exponentially, with each passing second. She watches him, closely. His arm begins to move. She catches his right hook, before it can connect with her eye socket. He grabs her arm, and peels her hand off of his wrist. He stops, abruptly, as if he hears something. He takes a step back. Without a word, he leaves the room.

She sits down, waiting for him to return. The only sound she hears it the clock, ticking on the wall. It lulls her back to sleep, before too long.

He pulls at his collar, clearly he's irritated. Nick looks over at him.

"Are you sure you're ok to be here?" Nick questions.

"I'm fine," Elliot insists.

"Ok."

Elliot makes a fist, and knocks on the door. Footsteps move towards the door. The door comes open, and Elliot just stares at the party on the other side.

Brian looks at the two detectives standing in front of him. He looks to the younger detective, who avoids his glance. The older detective looks him dead in the eye.

"Elliot, what are you doing here?"

Elliot can't seem to find the words to answer. Brian looks to the younger detective.

"Amaro? What's going on, here? Have either of you talked to Olivia? I haven't heard from her. She's not answering her calls. Is she undercover, or something?"

Elliot finally breaks his silence, "She's not undercover."

Brian instantly picks up on Elliot's tone of voice, "What's going on?"

"Olivia is missing. Someone took her," Elliot reveals.

"What?"

She wakes up, after less than twenty minutes. Suddenly she finds it hard to breathe. She opens her eyes, and she finds his knee on her chest. Panic begins to set in. She tries to push him off her, but his knee doesn't move. She starts kicking, and punching. After several moments, his knee moves. He grabs her by the arms, and holds them down. It only takes her a second to realize how close his arms are to him. He stands over top of her, holding her arms down, to keep her from fighting. She takes the opportunity. She bites him, as hard as she can. He recoils, as she draws blood. She spits, and tries to get up. This only infuriates him more. As she leans up he grabs her by the shoulders and slams her back down. She hits her head on the frame of the bed.

She knees him, and he stumbles back. It gives her the opportunity to get up. She gets to her feet. Before she can get anywhere he grabs her by the hair, and pulls her back. She elbows him in the ribcage as he pulls her hair. He lets go of her, temporarily. She backs away from him, quickly. She trips, and falls backwards. She lands on her butt. He circles her, like a lion circling his prey. She tries to get up. He gets to her, before she can get off the cold, concrete floor.

He straddles her, with his knees on either side of her. He smacks her across the face. She sits up. She's face to face with him. She spits in his face, and punches him, in the eye, and then wriggles away. She's barely to her feet, when he reaches her, again. He slams her against the cinder block wall.

They sit around a large table, in their conference room. There are so many of them, that they can't all sit at the table. Several of them stand. Cragen sits at the head of the table. He is surrounded by members of his unit, as well as ESU technicians, an FBI psychologist, and other members of NYPD. They all stare at him, in anticipation.

"I am sure that you are all wondering why I called you here today. I know that your time is valuable, but today I am asking for a favor. One of our own has gone missing. Detective Olivia Benson was taken from her home, approximately thirty six hours ago. We do not know who took her. We do not know where he took her. We don't even know who he is. We have no pictures of him. We found the vehicle he stole, abandoned along the highway, near Pennsylvania. We are asking for your help, to find her."

Over an hour later, she cringes, as she hears the door slam. She doesn't move. She tries not to think. She does her best not to process what just happened. Numbly, she pushes herself off the floor. She grabs clean clothes out of the drawers, and she heads into the door-less bathroom. She is glad there isn't a mirror. She knows that she doesn't want to see herself. She knows there is a cut to her throat, that is superficial. There are bruises to her throat, too. And bruises, and gashes to her face, and arms, and other places, too. She pictures the class ring on his finger, and the in print it must have made on her face. She turns on the shower, and peels off all of her clothes. She opens the drawer, of the plastic storage tower. She finds toiletries. She gets them out, and carries them into the shower with her.

They spend the next several days tracking down possible leads from tip lines, and other sources. They all lead absolutely nowhere. It's been a week since she's gone missing. The Captain hangs up the phone, in his office. He chokes back tears, and he goes into the squad room. He looks around, at his detectives. They are all hard at work. Every single one of them looks exhausted, and emotionally drained. He swallows hard, as he heads to the center of the squad room. He clears his throat, and they all look up.

"Listen up," he begins.

"What's going on? Did we find her?" Fin hopes.

"No. I just got a call from the commissioner," he explains.

"And?" Amanda questions.

"And, he wants us to get back to work."

"Get back to work," Nick furrows his brow, "What do you mean?"

"Business as usual," Cragen clarifies.

"You want us to stop looking?" Amanda queries.

"I don't want you to, but he does. He wants us to get back to our other victims."

"She's only been gone a week," Nick argues.

"I know. I don't like it, either."

"She disappears off the face of the planet, and we get a week to find her? That is crap," John points out.

"I don't like it, either," Cragen admits.