Looking back on the day later, if you'd asked Anthony Vanik when he decided he was going to take Temperance Brennan as a personal client he would say it was the moment he saw her eyes that day. He was escorted by Jeffersonian security to her office along with his associate, Mr. Jensen. She accepted the delivery of the guests without standing up, although he guessed from the look of her that came from being in pain more than being rude. He entered the office, introductions and reintroductions were made and they got down to business.

He was taken aback by her rationality. She described her situation with facts and details – there were no tears. When he asked her to begin, she started with the phone and not with the beating she had clearly taken. When he pressed her about McGowan she talked about his obsession with Booth, not about his increasingly controlling behavior. When he asked what her ideal outcome was there was no hint of punishment or revenge, just trying to get out unscathed. And protect her partner.

The two hours between her call and his arrival at the Jefferson had been filled with research. He made phone calls. He put his team scouring the internet. He called in a favor for information. Fugitive parents, but she was clean as a whistle. Blunt. Not universally liked, but universally respected. His dealings with her publisher told him she was successful. And being known as the best in the world at something wasn't a title easily bestowed.

He knew about Never Alone from the gala, but on that job he really only worked with the other security professionals – coordination really, busy work. Cake walk. He actually took the gig for selfish reasons. He recruited a few new employees that night. This was different. Now he really needed to know who this woman was.

Being in her presence, though, she was unlike anyone he'd ever met, and her eyes told him she was in trouble, and that she knew all of her intelligence wasn't going to get it done. She seemed to understand what evil men did but not why, and so she couldn't plot a course back to safety.

He started where she did. Her phone.

"Can we have your phone?"

She considered him for a moment. He was uncomfortable under her gaze and that didn't happen to him often. Finally she opened the drawer on her desk and took the phone out and handed it to him. He was going to take that as trust. He tossed the phone to Jensen, keeping eye contact with Brennan. Jensen opened the laptop in his bag and plugged her phone in.

"We have a process. We will need to work out of here for a few hours and then then we'll give you a plan to consider. Will we be able to work here undisturbed?"

"Agent McGowan frequently uses his badge to gain access to the lab, so I can't be certain."

"Definitely cloned," Jensen said from behind them.

"I don't know what that means," Brennan responded.

"It means you were right. He's tracking you."

The next two hours were spent with intermittent questions. Every few minutes Vanik asked her something while she worked at her desk. She never asked for the purpose behind the question, or looked to tie them together, simply taking each one at face value and giving him what he needed as she worked.

The plan had to be more complicated than he liked. He preferred in your face to finesse, but to protect her without actual bodyguards, keep McGowan in the dark, get what they needed to get him put away, stay clear of the DC police, and stop her partner from killing McGowan before they had the evidence they needed was going to take a master class in subtlety – something he sensed she lacked.

"My first choice is to put you under protection somewhere out of the area," Vanik admitted.

"No." She didn't explain herself.

"Can you meet back here tomorrow morning?"

"Yes, but to what end?"

"By tomorrow we'll have a plan for you to assess."

She sighed and considered his words.

"Consider today and tomorrow pro bono. You have a complicated problem, Dr. Brennan. It's going to take a complicated solution. Let us lay out a way to achieve your desired outcomes, and if you don't like it you can give us your plan."

"If I had a plan I wouldn't have called you."

He smiled. At least she was being honest. He took her phone back from Jenson and put it on her desk.

"If you hear nothing else I say today, hear this. He's dangerous and he's tracking you. Do nothing on this phone you don't want him to know about."

"Can't you block him?"

"Then he'll know you're on to him, and he may be unpredictable."

"So I just let him track me?"

"Yes, until we can use that against him."

She was quiet for a moment, playing with the phone he had just put in front of her.

"That's acceptable. I'll see you tomorrow."

Vanik arrived the next morning on time with two 'colleagues.' Brennan didn't know what to call them. Agents? Mercenaries? Investigators? That alone told her she was out of her depth. Jensen returned, and they introduced Brennan to Mercy.

"It's nice to meet you Ms. Mercy," but the chuckle told her she had done something wrong.

"It's a nickname, ma'am. Just Mercy is fine."

"Dr. Brennan, are you ready to talk about a plan?"

"I am."

Brennan sat silently as the three laid out a high level approach that centered around three basic premises. One, that it would take them two weeks to gather the cyber forensics they needed to get a federal warrant for McGowan and take it out of the hands of the DC cops, two, that there were things that would need to happen to keep Booth out of the middle, and three, that minimizing her interaction with McGowan in the interim would be the best course of action. When she agreed in principle, the details came fast and furious.

It took thirty minutes to lay it out for her. She asked a lot of questions – clarification, not challenging. She was gathering evidence before she made an assessment.

"That is a lot to put in place in the next twenty four hours," she observed.

"We'd like it done in the next six," Vanik challenged.

She regarded him and his associate, clearly thinking through the situation "You should try to organize your delivery into two or three main paints. It would make it easier to convey your ideas," she offered.

He wasn't offended. He assumed this was what people meant when they said she was ... direct.

"I'll endeavor to organize critical information more effectively," he replied, not really sure how else to respond.

"Then we better get started," she said, and the room erupted in activity.

She was handed a folder that she opened and regarded with confusion. Vanik explained.

"You are going to Philadelphia on Monday afternoon to guest lecture at Temple University on Forensic Anthropology. The folder has your hotel reservations, the class schedule, the evening faculty events, directions, and lecture abstracts."

"But I'm not lecturing at Temple University on Monday."

"No, Tuesday and Wednesday. Back in town on Thursday."

"I don't understand."

"This is enough to cover for a trip out of town. There is nowhere local we don't stand a chance of McGowan interrupting. We've created a story that will withstand a few levels of scrutiny."

"But I would never do something like this last minute."

"You just have to sell it, Dr. Brennan," Mercy told her. "If you believe it, they will. Send an email reminding them you will be in Philly for the lecture and if they push back, tell them they forgot. They will back down."

Meanwhile Jensen pulled a chair over to the corner of the room after surveying angles and lines of sight. He quickly set to work installing a camera in the eyes of mask that hung on the wall.

"Now, you need to take a break from working cases with Booth. If you don't put some distance there immediately the violence will escalate faster than you can react to it."

"But that's my job. What do you suggest I tell my employer?"

"You need to come up with a project – research paper, journal article, something. It has to have some artifacts that you can store in the office to justify security coverage of this room. That justification will make the footage admissible for charges if something were to happen in here."

"Are you sure it will be admissible?"

"If the cameras are here watching Jeffersonian property and they catch anything said or done in this room, then yes."

She nodded and considered her options while Jensen finished the camera and Mercy worked on a laptop.

Brennan went to file cabinet and took out a folder. It was thick, barely closing around all of the paper, and contained every invitation and request for assistance she received. She looked for the right opportunity, one that would be only a few weeks of work, one that could be done locally, one that would have artifacts that she could examine at the Jeffersonian. She settled on one that was an attempt to apply modern occupational markers to a grouping of remains from an early Nubian civilization dated at 1300 BC with accompanying tools. It was being run out of the Jeffersonian, and the tools and artifacts were on site and not on display.

"I have one." She explained it to Vanik, and with his agreement, she composed an email letting the Nubian team know she would be helping them, and could start on Thursday. She asked to have the tools moved from storage to her office at their earliest convenience as she wanted to begin immediately upon her return.

"Three things I need you to remember," Vanik said, nodding to her to highlight that he was trying to incorporate her earlier feedback. Then his face got serious. "Number one, McGowan is dangerous. Don't provoke him, don't underestimate him. My guess is that this is about Booth and not you, and hurting you is just entertainment. If you have to choose between your reputation and your life, choose your life. If you aren't sure if you are safe then you aren't, and you call me."

"Number two, tell McGowan you are buried preparing for Temple and that you'll deal with Booth when you get back. That'll buy us some more time before Booth gets suspicious. Statistically McGowan is likely to not attack you again physically for seven to ten days to not draw more attention and because he believes the last beating was enough. The second week will be harder than the first."

"Number three, we know that McGowan is using your phone to track your location, read your texts and see your call log. He has no access to your camera or microphone. Use that to your advantage. Let him think he knows where you are and who you are talking to. Be at work as much as you possibly can."

"I understand, Mr. Vanik."

"We'll meet in Philadelphia tomorrow night and go over everything we have, complete the plan for the second week, and start preparing what the federal prosecutor will need." He nodded to Jensen and Mercy, who had completed packing up their gear and they left for the car. He shook Brennan's hand and turned to leave when Wendell appeared in her doorway.

"Dr. Brennan," Wendell started, and then quickly realized they were not alone. "Oh, I'm sorry, I saw you were in today and was going to ask.. oh, Mr. Vanik, nice to see you again." But then Wendell went back to Brennan. "Dr. B, are you ok?"

"Yes, thank you," she responded in her most composed voice. "Of course," she said gesturing to her face. "I was in an accident on Thursday night. I'm fine."

"Ok, then," Wendell replied, but didn't seem to buy it.

"Mr. Vanik was just leaving. What was it you needed?"

And with that Vanik slipped out of the office.