"You've been working on this case for a while yeah?" Abby asked marching towards the prisoner transport vehicle without turning back to look at the agent.

"Yes," Cassidy huffed. Abby could almost feel her rolling her eyes.

"You know the people De La Court works with yes?"

"Yes."

"Who's the outsider?"

"A man called Finley but he's never going talk-"

"Not with that attitude he's not," she exclaimed as she reached the van. She rapped on the outside, drawing the attention on the hoard of criminals sitting uncomfortably inside. "Finley!" she announced and the youngest of the men with short cut hair looked up. "Let's talk." He shifted in his seat, uncertain of what to do. Despite however, her stern stare and to the point attitude, he didn't move any further. It was probably her clothes, she concluded. Her shorts, singlet and tartan shirt didn't exactly scream 'authority figure' and this wasn't going to work without legitimacy. And the legitimacy of her appearance hadn't been something she'd considered when she'd stepped into this almost spontaneously.

So, as much as it vexed her she twisted slightly and looked at Cassidy for some support. She very slightly rolled her eyes but stepped forward and yelled in a booming voice. "Finley. Now!"

The man jolted in his seat and climbed out over his companions, trying to avoid their discerning stares. Abby stepped back a little intimidated by the thug while Cassidy gripped the man by the forearm and marched him to the front of the car. Abby made sure to halt them where his colleagues could see him.

"You know about the missile?" Abby asked him looking at him up and down. He stared straight at her with intense eyes and rigid body.

"I decline to answer," he replied with a thick Brooklyn accent. She had expected his answer to be evasive but it may has well have been a yes.

"You know where the missile is?" she continued.

"I decline to answer." Again a yes.

"Are you sure?" His face didn't change, it just remained solid and stiff. "Okay then." Abby let out a corporate smile then directed her attention towards Agent Cassidy standing behind the felon. "Can you undo his handcuffs for me?'

"Excuse me?" Cassidy asked in surprise. Her irritation towards the teen was growing old.

"Just oblige me." Cassidy breathed a now patented sigh, pulled a set of handcuff keys from her belt then turned Finley around. A partially confused, partially joyous, slightly worried look spread across his face as Cassidy undid the cuffs. The agent spun him back around to Abby who was holding her hand out ready for him to shake. He looked down at it, then back up at her again, his face still quizzical.

"Wha-"

"Just to thank you for your time," she interrupted before he could spit the question from his mouth. He hesitated then shrugged as he lightly shook the teen's hand. "Great well, you're free to go."

"What?" he asked.

"What?" Cassidy questioned, just as surprised. "He didn't even answer any questions."

"That's true," Abby agreed. "But his colleagues don't know that so when he walks free no doubt they're going to think he's a snitch."

"I'll, I'll get killed," he stammered. It was the first time he'd even slightly broken.

"Perhaps, or you could tell us the information we want and Agent Cassidy here will arrest you again. Your colleagues never have to know."

He contemplated the deal for a moment; the choice between prison or death was apparently a difficult one. "There are small mountains," he began reluctantly. "50 kilometres west of the Hoz-e Soltan Salt Lake. The missile is in there."

"Thank you Mr Finley, Agent Cassidy will now lock you up with your colleagues." She left Cassidy with the somewhat relieved criminal and made her way back towards the Maggie and Olivia. "Less than five minutes right?"

"Four minutes, fifteen," Olivia informed them, glancing down at her watch.

"Told you I could do it." Abby slapped Maggie lightly on the arm and lent past her so she could pull the car door open. She reached inside and grabbed her phone out of the back seat.

"Calling Eliot?" Maggie asked as Abby placed her mobile to her ear.

"Yeah," she replied to the curator as she heard Eliot pick up at the other end. The line was crackled and the sound of a helicopter was rattling off in the background.

"Abby?" he yelled over the noise.

"Yeah. We got Sterling," she said, skipping straight to the point knowing that time was short. "50 ks West of the Hoz-e Soltan Lake. I think it's about 120 k's out of Teheran," she heard Eliot relaying the location to the pilot.

"I don't know how you got the info Abs but I better not be pissed off about how you got it," came his reply. "I'll see you when I get back okay?"

"Definitely."

"Stay safe okay?" he pleaded.

"You too," she replied as out of the corner of her eye she saw Sterling walking down the driveway, a uniformed officer on his arm. She hung up the phone just as Sterling frustratedly shook the police officer off his arm.

"Dad!" Olivia yelled, bounding forward to embrace her father. Olivia yelled as she ran into the Interpol offices. Her father, dressed in a suit with an open collar looked exhausted but unharmed as he stretched his arms out to hold his daughter.

"Olivia," he replied, gripping her as hard as he could and caressing her soft hair with his hands.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she mumbled.

"That's good to hear Olivia. And thank you for figuring it all out sweetheart," he let her go but held her hand as they walked down to the others. As they reached the car Maggie leapt onto the man (at which point Olivia let go and went to lean on the car next to Abby) and kissed him on the cheek. Abby let it slide that Sterling had given neither her, Cassidy, Eliot or Vance any credit whatsoever.

"Eliot and Vance are setting down in Iran now," Abby supplied.

"And, as you can see, we found you. I say we did pretty well," Olivia said proudly. She grinned her teeth at Abigail, proud of their teamwork.

"And we got De La Court," Cassidy added walking up from behind them.

"So what happened?" Maggie asked with deep concern in her voice as she hung lovingly off Sterling's arm.

"I thought my alibi was airtight, but the second I walked in, he knew I was Interpol," he explained. "Bastard locked me in a broom closet, of all places. But," he continued proudly, "I managed to get out that message before they took my phone."

"Good thing you did, otherwise we'd've had nothing to go on," Abby informed him.

"You don't still need us here do you?" Sterling asked the blonde agent, only partially acknowledging Abby's comment with a minor nod. He didn't really need to acknowledge it, he knew it couldn't have been done without him.

"No, you can all go," Cassidy said much too quickly. It was obviously apparent, through her huffs, rolled eyes and sarcastic tone that she was done with having teenagers and thieves show her up. "I'm sure your young friend here will keep you updated." She looked at Abby, who shrugged off the obvious dig.