5pm

"Vasily Antonov," Grey told his officers. "Former Spetsnaz and FSB. Currently works as an assassin for hire for the Russian Mob. Wanted for questioning in the murder of Officer Aaron Thorsen, wanted for the assault on Sergeant Tim Bradford, and wanted for the abduction of Officer Lucy Chen. He is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous. If you make contact, wait for backup. Don't be a hero."

Nolan raised his hand. "Sir, if we encounter Antonov and he reacts violently, do we take him out?"

Grey nodded. "Yes. If Antonov engages you, react accordingly. Let's hit the streets and find this guy."

6pm

Having been thoroughly checked out by doctors, Tim was walking through the hospital. His first stop was Angela in the maternity ward.

"Knock, knock," he said, walking into the room.

"Tim!" Angela exclaimed. "Not that I mind, but what are you doing here? Don't you have bad guys to catch?"

Tim looked sheepish. "Yeah, well, I do. Only I wanted to check in on you and Wesley first. See how you're doing."

"Cut the bullshit." Angela saw right through Tim. "Is that why you have a bandage on your head?"

"You got me. One of them got the drop on me and Lucy at her apartment a couple of hours ago."

"Wait, WHAT?! And you're here instead of looking for her? What the hell's the matter with you?"

Tim listened to Angela tear into him for the better part of ten minutes, really wishing he had something to say instead of just nodding in agreement.

"And another thing," Angela continued, "Why the hell were you at her apartment anyway?"

"Saint Michael medal," Tim replied lamely.

"She has one? I always thought she didn't believe in that stuff."

"It was Officer West's. She said something about extra protection."

Before Angela could respond, Tim's phone started ringing. Unknown Caller. Tim answered cautiously, putting the phone on speaker.

"Sergeant Bradford."

"Hello, Sergeant Bradford."

"Who the hell are you?"

"I am the man who has your girlfriend. She is quite beautiful."

"If you hurt her-"

The man on the other end of the line started laughing. "It's not her that I want to hurt. It's you."

"What do you want with me?"

"I want you to suffer. I want you to know pain and anguish."

"You listen to me, you son of a bitch. I'm going to make this clear enough that even you can understand it. If you think for one second that-" The call dropped, and Tim looked at Angela.

"Tim."

"I gotta go." Tim's eyes welled up. He blinked it away, but not before Angela noticed.

"Before you go, just listen to me. I know you think that being a Sergeant means you have to be some macho guy, but it's ok to let it out. This guy's got someone you care about."

"I know-"

"I'm here if you need to vent."

7pm

Tim walked into Mid-Wilshire feeling numb. He made his way to Grey's office, more on autopilot than anything.

"Something on your mind, Tim?" Grey asked.

"I need a trace on my phone," Tim replied.

"You mind telling me why?"

"I got a call while I was in the hospital. Unknown caller with a heavy accent. It was the man that has Lucy."

Grey picked up his office line and called down to the IT squad. "This is Sergeant Grey. Starting immediately, I need a trace on all calls to Sergeant Tim Bradford's personal cell phone. Good. Thank you."

Grey hung up the phone and turned back to Tim. "So what did he say?"

"He wants me to suffer. He wouldn't give me anything else."

"Well, we've got him. His name, anyway. Vasily Antonov."

"Sounds familiar."

"He's a hitter for the Russian Mob. Immigration flagged him coming in three weeks ago. Any idea why he might want to target you?"

Tim shook his head. "I've never crossed paths with him, here or in Iraq or Afghanistan."

Grey nodded. "Capturing him is our first priority."

"And Lucy?"

"The hope is that we can get him to talk and give up her location."

"Well, I'm going to focus on finding Lucy. I'd like to borrow Nolan and Harper."

"You got them. Any evidence you find-"

"I know. I report back immediately."

"He's learning."

Tim's phone started ringing again. Unknown Caller.

"Answer it," Grey said. "It's being traced."

"Sergeant Bradford."

"It is so wonderful to hear your voice again, Sergeant."

"What do you want, Antonov?"

"Oh, so you know my name now? I'm flattered."

"I know more than that. I know your record. I know that you're former Spetsnaz. I know you're a hitter. I know Immigration flagged you coming into the country."

"Sergeant Bradford, do you remember what I said earlier? I want you to suffer. I have strapped a bomb to your girlfriend. I want five million dollars in unmarked currency. You have until 4pm tomorrow, or she dies."

"Wait! Why-"

The call dropped, and Tim, out of pure anger, threw his phone at a window, shattering it completely.

8pm

Tim sat in Grey's office, oblivious to the world around him. Grey was on his phone, calling someone. Who, Tim wasn't exactly sure. All he knew was that his world was crashing down around him. He'd been so happy, let his walls come down. And now...

From what seemed like a million miles away, someone called out his name.

"Tim. Tim. SERGEANT BRADFORD!"

Tim snapped out of his funk, looking for the person yelling his name. It was Nolan.

"What's up?" Tim casually asked.

"Grey said you wanted to borrow Nyla and myself to help you find Lucy."

Tim nodded and stood up. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. I need to go see someone first though."

Illustrate all my pain
And set it all ablaze
Burn
And set it all ablaze

The station chapel was nearly empty, with the exception of a couple of officers. The station Chaplain, Father Mulcahy, was offering counsel to another officer when Tim walked in. Not wanting to disturb the priest, Tim waited until the other officers left to approach him.

"Father? Do you have a minute?"

"Sergeant Bradford!" Mulcahy exclaimed. "How wonderful to see you, my son!"

"You too, Father."

"Forgive me for saying so, Sergeant, but you seem troubled."

Tim scoffed. "No slipping one by you, is there, Padre? I guess, you could say, I'm having a crisis of faith."

"Oh, my son. That's why I'm here. Would you like to talk about it?"

"If you don't mind."

"Not at all, my son." Mulcahy gestured to a pew. "Please, have a seat."

When they were both seated, Mulcahy asked, "My son, what seems to be your crisis of faith?"

Tim sighed. 'Might as well start at the beginning,' he thought. "Well, Padre, a few months ago, Officer Chen and I started dating. It's been great. I've never felt happier in my life. But a few days ago, someone started targeting our friends. They killed Officer Thorsen and took Officer Chen. Father, I'm worried. I don't want to lose her."

Mulcahy studied Tim for a moment before responding. "Sergeant Bradford, it's in times like these that we must reach out to our Heavenly Father for guidance. If you don't mind, I'd like you to pray with me."

Tim hesitated at first, but eventually bowed his head as Mulcahy prayed, "Our Father in Heaven, we ask that you look over Sergeant Bradford in this most trying time. Lord, we ask for your protection for Officer Chen, who is in the clutches of a most evil person. Lord, we ask that you aid and assist our police officers in locating Officer Chen and bringing her home safely. This we pray in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen."

"Amen." Tim lifted his head and looked at the Chaplain. "Thank you, Padre. I really needed that."

"Any time, my son. Be safe as you look for her."

"Always." Tim rose from the pew, shook Mulcahy's hand, and left the chapel. He made his way to the parking garage and got in his truck. He could feel the tears in his eyes again, and remembered what Angela said earlier. "It's OK to let it out." Let it out is exactly what he did. For the better part of an hour, he sat in his truck and cried. For Thorsen, for Lucy, for everyone he'd ever felt powerless to save.

So how do I apologize
And put the tears back in your eyes
When every canvas that I paint
Is a masterpiece of my mistakes?
And in the light of my demise
I see my failures in your eyes
Every canvas that I paint
Is a masterpiece made of my mistakes