"You're shittin' me."

Denton put down his mug, his smiling lips fighting the urge to spit his coffee.

"Assistant Director," Jack repeated flatly, his dark brown eyes disbelieving as he looked the man over. "You're assistant director of tha FBI."

"Assessments were a pain in the ass," Denton said lightly.

Jack scoffed a laugh as he leaned back in his chair, taking in his friend. "The guys are gonna flip."

"How's Medda?" Denton smiled, "I've seen her once or twice on the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade…I'm afraid I've been too chicken to reach out, in case she thought I was nuts and reported me."

Jack laughed. "Still spitfire, taking the city by storm, an' nuts like tha rest of us."

Denton laughed, a warm familiar sound.

They sat in the back of one of the busiest cafes in New York City, a place Denton said the Wilks and "their people" never frequented…the FBI kept close tabs on them, as well as Tiffany and the girls.

As their light conversation transitioned to why they were really there, Denton kept his voice measured, his low murmur floating just beneath the hum and thrum of tourists' loud chatter and the shouts of the baristas behind the long counters. By his body language, he and Jack could've been discussing family Christmas photos.

But Jack's gaze was fixed on his face - still disbelieving his crazy luck - and needing to know everything. He tried to be patient and not bounce his knee under the table as Denton spoke.

"I'd just been promoted when she reached out to the bureau. It took me a few minutes to get past the initial shock of who was contacting us, the name on the letterhead - I guess you know by now she's from a…very prominent family in Hollywood."

"I didn't press her for it," Jack said. "She said it was for the best, us not knowin'."

Denton nodded. "She had my full attention when she referenced 'The Anti-Trafficking Coordination Team Initiative' in her proposal. Oh yeah, smart as a whip," he said with a chuckle, seeing the look on Jack's face. "Should've seen the stack of papers once it was printed, and she meant every word. We read it, reread it, took it to the director, and thought, 'Who is this kid?'

"Her proposal was the gutsiest thing the bureau had heard in years, let alone from a group of twenty-year-olds: her and her friends, risking everything they have to bring down one of the biggest protected sex trafficking rings in the country. She had their deals and alibis already thought out, ready and able to fund the entire thing. She said her life was the only one we were allowed to risk. When her mother died last year…well, I tried to get her to call it off, take a break, but it seemed to only fuel her fire."

Denton shook his head, his eyes gleaming with admiration…and concern.

"She's one of the bravest people I've ever met in my life…or the last one, for that matter." He gave Jack a smirk, but something crossed his face and his eyes became thoughtful. "And then I saw you with her," Denton shook his head again, his face drawn as he stared at Jack. "I couldn't believe it, I thought I was crazy. I still think I'm seeing things."

"I know tha feelin'," Jack muttered into his mug as he took a big gulp of hot reality. "So, when did ya…?"

Denton smirked, "Become aware of a previous life? Ten years ago. I had no idea…I thought maybe they were just dreams at first, the memories. But, god the headaches were maddening - I thought my head was splitting open. Then I wondered if I was schizophrenic. I took a week off for the first time in my career to clear my head, and realized it was real. I thought about going to a shrink but was afraid to risk my job. It never crossed my mind that there was a possibility that there could be others from that time…until I saw Kid."

Jack's face darkened. Denton nodded knowingly.

"I recognized him immediately," Denton murmured. "I'm sorry."

"We'll get 'im back," Jack said.

Denton regarded him for a moment. He saw it in Jack's eyes, the sureness and determination that had been his trademark when he was a young man in 1899, not so different from the one sitting across from him now… Jack seemed so sure of victory, even now as his best friend worked for one of the most dangerous men in the city, even as he fought the fear and doubt that crept through the shadows in his eyes. Denton wanted to allow himself to believe it too.

"He's got several serious charges against him, Jack. All stacked with maximum prison time…and my men are eager to get their hands on him."

"What if he wakes up?" Jack said in a rush, unable to hide his eagerness. "What if he agrees ta cooperate? What if he claims he was undercover, like Tiffany an' tha girls?"

Denton's eyes twinkled. "What if the Wilks order a hit on him?"

"Ain't that reason enough ta help 'im?" Jack's voice barely betrayed his fear. "Please…I'll do whatever it takes, Bryan."

Denton allowed a small smirk at the sound of his old name. He swirled his coffee, thinking. "I know you would. I know what Kid means to you, the guys."

Jack didn't blink or move. Denton inclined his head.

"I'll see what I can do. You have my word."

Jack exhaled. FBI Assistant Director. Surely if there was a way, Denton would find it.

Denton caught the eye of a waitress passing by with a fresh pot of coffee. She came over and refilled their cups, smiling shyly at Jack. Denton smirked to himself.

"So," Denton began as he poured creamer into his steaming cup. He crossed a leg over his knee and he became the interviewer, the journalist. He'd never lost it, that twinkle in his eye that sought knowledge and stories.

"Who is she? To you?"

The moment Jack had been anticipating. Jack met Denton's gaze evenly. "She's like us, Denton. She was there."

Denton thought he misheard. He was frozen for a long moment until Jack's words sank into his awareness, his face falling very slowly as he grappled with the incredible impossibility –

"You - you mean you knew her, in 1899?" Seeing the darkness in Jack's face, the rage that had never been there before…Denton laughed once without humor, his face changing as he watched Jack like a hawk. "...you can't be serious."

"We met after the strike," Jack said quietly, but his voice didn't waver. "Her name was Talia…and she was a prost."

Denton uncrossed his leg, leaning towards Jack. "Is she - aware?"

Jack shook his head solemnly.

Denton blew out his breath, visibly shaken despite his training.

"I know," Jack said gently. "But it gets worse."

Jack told him everything; almost two hours passed as they sat over three cups of coffee each and not once did Denton interrupt or remove his eyes from Jack. His face was stonelike as Jack told him about Rockefeller, the Underground…when he finished, neither one spoke for a long time.

"Fuck," Denton muttered. Jack had never heard him say the word before. "...you're sure Phillip Wilks III is - was - Garrison Rockefeller? A Rockefeller?"

"The only one ta be publicly disowned," Jack muttered darkly.

"An' Jazzi was his fiance?" Denton laughed darkly, dragging his hand over his face. "What kind of sick twisted Hallmark Movie from Hell is this?"

"How much do you trust Jazzi?" Jack leveled.

Denton met his eyes. "She's a bit of a loose cannon; making decisions and calls without advising the team, not checking-in for days. I realize sometimes there's no other option when you're in deep like she is; she sits in on their meetings, gathers evidence, obeys their orders no matter how dehumanizing and deplorable... She's playing the most difficult part. I'd say she's in more trouble than Tiffany if things go south. But knowing this…"

Denton shook his head as he read Jack's face, seeing the hatred there. "You don't trust her."

Jack chose his words carefully but he couldn't contain the disdain in his voice. "Has she given ya real evidence? Enough to put 'em away?"

Denton's lips flattened as he thought. "She's seen girls go missing, but not with her own eyes…she's seen money handling but not from the sources. Nothing tangible –"

"Don't ya think she's walkin' a fine line between helpin' an' deterrin' the investigation?" Jack asked evenly. "It's a sick joke she's Tiff's best friend in this life, when in tha las' one she was Pulitzer's niece an' engaged to Garrison when he lost everything."

"You think she's aware?" Denton asked quickly, suddenly panicked.

Jack nodded, "we think so."

Jack dropped his gaze. He had no proof that Jazzi had been the one who killed Ira…only his gut feeling. He decided to leave out that detail…for now.

Denton's brow furrowed, thinking. "I remember the case…when I went on leave and came back to the city for a week. The news still buzzed over it, despite his release from jail within a week of being put away. I guess Jazzi lost everything when he did."

Jack's eyes cut to him. "An' Ira helped put him there."

Denton leaned his arm on the table, his darting eyes far away as his thoughts ran rampant. He grimaced, closing his eyes tightly. "She's running into a damn powder keg."

Jack's brow furrowed. "What do ya mean?"

Denton looked at him carefully, guilt shining in his eyes. "She's luring them out in the open, in front of everyone, with her number at the NYU Winter Gala. TV crews, celebrities, pop icons, benefactors, New York's most influential people in the arts community, the mayor…and the Wilks brothers. Anyone who's anyone will be there to scope out fresh talent, and she's at the top of everyone's list. She's going to leverage it against them."

Jack, frozen in his seat, felt sick.

Quiet panic swirled in Denton's eyes. "I tried to talk her out of it. The plan was blunt - even suicidal. It would be defamation in the purest form, calling them out for all the despicable things they've done. But I think she's close to breaking - the undercover work, the lack of freedom. They pulled her leash too short, and it became personal when they threatened you. Now she wants to take her shot."

Jack closed his eyes. He didn't want her sacrificing herself for him. Not again.

Denton shook his head, "I'm still betting on Jazzi. She doesn't know about Tiffany's plan, but I don't think she's -"

"A snitch?" Jack hissed.

Denton read his face and nodded. "I'll let you handle that one, huh? They're too close for their relationship to be a ruse…but keep your eyes open."

Jack nodded. He felt like they were in the eye of a storm. "What do we do?"

Denton looked at him carefully, his voice dropping. "She was very adamant not to involve you, or the others. And knowing this…you're too close, Jack."

Jack bristled, his chest inflating, "Denton -"

"Jack, she made me swear: if anyone was to go down, it would be her and only her. I'm doing my damnedest not to let that happen, but we all know to expect the unexpected. You know she's a tough businesswoman and an even tougher friend. She knew the risks going in –"

"You don't think I know the risks?" Jack's steely eyes glinted into Denton's, his voice dark but calm. "I'm gonna be there either way. So either I get in tha way an' fuck up the plan, or you include me an' use me. Use me ta help her. Or else…why am I even here, Denton?"

Denton regarded him, battling within his head. He seemed to go through every scenario, unable to get around it.

"She cares for you. A lot," Denton said softly, his eyes glinting as they looked at Jack. "I could hear it, in her voice. This is tearing her apart, and she asks about you, the guys, constantly, to make sure you're safe…now this. It's amazing to me, the draw she has to you when she doesn't even know who you really are…"

Jack swallowed against the tightness in his throat. "She's going in blind. You know she is. She needs us."

"How much are you willing to risk? Not just for her - for what she's fighting for."

"Everything," Jack vowed.

Denton regarded the young man and the fire in his eyes. He could hear Tiffany's voice from his memory on the phone: promise me you'll protect them if something happens to me.

But as he looked at Jack, with everything he knew now…he knew Jack would be there. It would take an act of nature to keep him away.

He motioned for another refill. "I can't risk the girls, Jack. I can't risk everything they've done, and I can't risk the investigation. I'm sorry."

Jack leaned back in his chair, visibly defeated and pissed off. But then he saw that look - that sly look on Denton's face. It was from a night spent in a basement with a printing press.

"But I can't stop someone else from letting you in on it."


"WHAT!"

Jack flinched at the onslaught of noise; even in Medda's spacious townhouse, the guys' surprise was as sudden and big as his had felt in Times Square almost six hours ago. Medda stared at him with her mouth open.

"Ya gotta be shittin' me -"

"No fuckin' way -"

"This is GREAT!"

"Our man DENTON!"

"Here, in New York! Can't believe it -"

"Tha King of New York himself!"

"What he say, what he say?!"

"Is Tiff ok?"

"Did ya tell 'em about Jazzi?"

They huddled close on the couches and floor as Jack sat next to Kat and told them everything. They all felt they could breathe a little easier, knowing Denton was behind everything.

But the light in their eyes faded almost as quickly when he told them about Tiffany's plan.

"Is she mad?" Spot asked angrily, pushing his hands through his hair as he turned to the windows, eyes scanning the city as if looking for a miracle. "What if -"

"Denton said he'll have plenty of bodies ta cover the place," Jack said. But even he still had his doubts.

Spot shook his head. "She can't be serious -"

"She is," Medda murmured. She sniffed and dabbed her eyes as Mush rubbed her shoulders. "You know she is."

David looked at Medda. She was right, and they all knew it.

"We can't contact the girls anymore," Jack said. " 's too risky in case they take all of 'em, like Tiff." He leaned forward on his knees. "We gotta wait ta hear from them."

Spot laughed once without humor. "Fuck."

"He'll protect them?" Mush asked. "He'll keep 'em safe?"

Jack nodded slowly, "He's got a team of guys trained for this. We jus' gotta play smart with 'em."

"Play smart with tha feds, huh?" Snoddy scoffed and shook his head.

"Nev'ah saw that comin'," Specs muttered.

"'ey!" Racetrack exclaimed as he showed Jack his phone. "Unknown numb'ah: 'be at the Brooklyn Seafood Market tomorrow mornin'."

"Won't that look suspicious?" Kat asked as she hugged a couch pillow to her chest. "Meeting them anywhere will draw attention if they're being watched -"

"Not all of us," Racetrack lifted his head. "Text says jus' Spot."

Spot turned and met Jack's dark eyes.

Jack's jaw tightened but his eyes glinted with purpose. Spot knew that look. Medda laid a shaky hand at the base of her throat.

"Why don't ya pick up some dinner while ya at it?" Racetrack said lightly as he reached for an abandoned whiskey glass on the coffee table. But his face was pale as he downed the remains.


Spot kept his cool as he wandered through the bright smelly market. He grumbled to himself as he squinted in the sunshine; of all the days to shine it just had to be today when he was trying to be discrete. His toes were still frozen in his boots as he avoided stepping into the snowdrifts that lined the street and sidewalks.

Booths and stands were everywhere, all lined neatly and swarming with people as they rushed about to buy fresh fish, crabs, scallops, mussels, you name it. Hot wafts of chowder flirted with Spot's nose as he passed women ladling out cups of the stuff to long lines of people. The smell of freshly baked bread was almost enough to warm his lungs, his breath clouding his face as he tried not to drool.

He pulled his hat down tighter and wrapped his scarf closer to his face to keep out the wind's bite, his eyes peeled for anyone that looked like a fed…did they still wear trench coats?

He scoffed at the hot chocolate stands, the finely dressed patrons laughing as they carried paper bags of goods, the young couples taking selfies.

"Sure ain't my Brooklyn –"

A hand clamped down on his arm and tugged him roughly, almost causing him to fall over the sidewalk curb as he was pulled behind a booth –

"'ey! What gives, ya sonofa mutha-"

His eyes widened in terror at Jade's pale face, her eyes watery as she looked at him.

She kissed his gaping mouth before he could speak, but he pulled away quickly.

"Are you crazy?!"

"I had to see you," she choked out as she shook her head. "Jazzi isn't answering her phone, no one is telling us anything about Tiffany, and now Honey -"

Spot gripped her arms to hold her steady, "easy, easy. Take a breath, slow down. Are ya covered?" He glanced around them, expecting to see trench coats.

She closed her eyes and nodded, her hands resting limply on his chest. "There's two men in the building next to us - God, I told myself I wouldn't lose it -"

Spot craned his neck to look upwards. "God, we're surrounded. Why doesn't that make me feel any bettah –"

She threw her arms around him, a sob rocking her. His shock subsided and he rubbed her back - she had a backpack on.

"Shh, easy, Jade –"

"I'm scared, I'm scared for her, Spot –"

"I'm here," he said into her loose red hair. "Ya gotta keep it together, doll, jus' a bit longer."

She took a deep breath and parted from him, wiping her face. She nodded and the steel came back slowly into her green eyes as she looked at him. She looked as if she'd been crying for days.

"Have ya been workin'?"

She nodded, "the Wilks haven't been in, or Cage. The patrons keep asking about Tiff."

Spot recalled something she'd said – "'s a matt'ah with Honey?"

Jade's eyebrows knitted, "She won't talk to us, she keeps herself locked in her room - what happened the other night when she -?"

Spot tucked her hair behind her back and spoke low and slow, their heads bent together. Her sexy ass perfume filled his nose, blocking out the smells of the market. "I can't go into it now, there isn't time. Jus' - trust me, a'right?"

She nodded again and pulled the backpack off her shoulder, passing it to him. "Don't open it here, and don't ask where it came from. There's a piece of paper inside with instructions...If anyone asks, I broke the rules and let you in, got it?"

He threw it over his shoulder, trying not to glance around like they were in the throws of a drug deal. "Got it."

She read his face, and her lips lifted a little, her hands gripping his coat as she pulled him to her. "At least I got to see you. Seems like the others have had more time with you than I have."

He smirked at her. "Jealous?"

She laughed a little, her eyes still troubled. "If all goes to plan...I'll soon have you all to myself."

"I sure fucking hope so."

She laughed harder and kissed him again. He brushed her lip with his tongue before she parted from him. She grimaced at him, hating to leave.

"Keep your ass safe, Spot."

"I'll see you soon," he vowed. He watched her walk away and disappear into the crowd, her hands pulling her hood over her head.

He huffed a sigh, feeling more strung out than before. He looked down at his phone and read the text Racetrack had just sent before he walked in the opposite direction -

"He wants me ta get what?! Do I look like a fuckin' personal shopper? Tha nerve..."