The FBI office buzzes with tense, focused energy as agents scramble to track down Lisbon's whereabouts. Jane paces the bullpen, his eyes darting from screen to screen as they pull up potential locations connected to Lazarus. Every minute that ticks by feels like a lifetime.
Jane sat on the worn leather sofa, his body tense despite his outwardly calm demeanor. One hand rested on the armrest, fingers absently grazing his chin, while his gaze fixed somewhere far beyond the room. The replay of his last conversation with Lisbon echoed in his mind, taunting him. It had been a normal call. Her voice had been steady, casual, with no hint of fear or distress.
But even then, something had nagged at him, a faint unease he couldn't shake. He had brushed it off as paranoia, but now, he cursed himself for not trusting his instincts. He remembered his words clearly: "Go back to the office as soon as you can". He hadn't let her hang up until she confirmed she was alone in the airstream. She'd reassured him—no one was there, everything was fine.
A sense of relief washed over him. He released a deep breath knowing she's fine. Even then, doubt had lingered. He had told himself she was safe. Repeated it like a mantra. She's okay. She's fine. But now, staring into the void, he knew he had been wrong.
Cho's voice broke through the silence. "Hey, Jane." The agent approached quietly, sitting beside him on the sofa. His tone was calm but firm, the way one might talk to someone teetering on the edge. "You've been here before. We've all been here before. We'll find her. We're doing everything we can. So are you, okay?"
Jane turned his head slowly, his eyes meeting Cho's. There was a haunted look in them, a rare crack in his carefully constructed façade. His voice was low, edged with guilt and desperation. "This isn't just any case, Cho. It's Lisbon."
"Exactly. It's Lisbon," Cho said firmly, "All the more reason for us to find her—and for you to get your head back in the game."
He swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair as his thoughts spilled out. "I'm sure it's Lazarus. I can feel it. But… why her? She's not a psychic, not pretending to be one. His M.O. is consistent—always about the cons, the fakes. That's why I agreed to the plan—I was sure no one would get hurt. But now? If he's targeting her because of me, because of what I've done…" His voice faltered, and he shook his head. "I should've been there."
"Jane, listen," Cho said, his voice steady, a grounding force. "You couldn't have known. None of us could. Maybe there's a pattern we haven't figured out yet. You can't blame yourself for this."
Jane's jaw tightened as he turned away, staring blankly at the floor. "But I did know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I felt it, Cho. I called her because I knew something was off. She said she was fine, and I believed her. But I should've checked anyway. I could've gone there sooner. Maybe… maybe I could've stopped this."
Cho leaned forward, his voice firm but kind. "You did what you could with the information you had. Second-guessing yourself won't help Lisbon, and it won't help us find her. What will help is keeping a clear head. You need to focus, Jane."
Just then, Abbott strides over, holding a file. "Jane, we have a lead."