My eyes are still burning slightly, although I know it could have been worse. Isis' mist wasn't pepper spray or Mace, she probably couldn't have trusted the wind wouldn't blow it right back in her face. Instead, I think she hit me with alcohol, maybe some sort of oil, something that made me cough once or twice but didn't last long, just long enough for her to kidnap Melissa. Sniffing, I realize it's water infused with peppermint oil, strong enough to make the eyes water but overall relatively safe.

I can't stick around, the cops are going to be here in moments. Scooping up my pistol, I holster it quickly and take off running, knowing the worst thing I can do is panic and run blind. I reach the corner and turn down an alley, pulling out my phone as the cops pull up. Carson should still have his with him, he hadn't been injured.

I force myself to walk casually, even though every fiber inside me is telling me to run, to try and catch up to the car that Isis shoved Melissa into. I know it's impossible, I'm not Superman, but still I want to do something. Instead, I open my phone and dial Carson.

“Nathan?”

“Isis got Melissa. I need you to pick me up. Where are you?” I ask, keeping my voice as even as I can. I know that if Carson did exactly what I told him, he and Andrea could be almost all the way back to the interstate and hauling ass for the compound right now. If that's the case, I'm going to need to hotwire a car.

“We're on Tunnel Road, about a mile from the doctor's office,” Carson says, his voice edged in tension and panic. “What happened?”

“Come get me, we'll meet up at the Carmike,” I tell him instead of answering. “If I'm not there in ten minutes, you haul ass back to the compound, get Katrina, Jackson and BA, and you get yourself somewhere safe. Katrina knows people, she knows how to protect you. Get the fuck outta there, and get out of the country by any means you can.”

“Bullshit,” Carson replies, but I can hear the van turn. “That bitch has Melissa. We'll get you at the theater.”

It's only a half-mile walk to the parking lot of the movie theater, and at this time of day the first of the morning movies and kiddie cartoons are being shown. It's busy enough that I can blend in, while not so crowded I can't see Carson and Andrea coming.

I take my time, sticking to the relative edge of the parking lot until I see the van coming, and I get my first real look at the damage Isis inflicted. There's a bullet hole in the side, not too bad considering the location is near the bottom edge where people won't look or might mistake it for a rock ding or something like that. There's another scrape where Isis' round glanced off the upper curve of the sheet metal above the windshield, but it doesn't look like it penetrated. The missing glass in the back window is a bigger problem, but it's the smallest of my worries right now.

The van pulls up, and I jump in, slamming the door behind me. “Drive normally, but get us back to the compound,” I tell him. “Don't speed up until we are out of the city and on the road back into the mountains. We can’t get pulled over by the cops.”

“What happened?” Andrea finally asks. “How did she find us?”

“I don't know,” I say, pulling out my phone again. “But we need to call Katrina, get her in on this. Somehow, Isis found us, but more importantly, now we need to find her.”

“She has Melissa?” Carson asks, his voice trembling with anger. “How?”

“I'll explain when we get back. For now, I need you to drive, Carson. I won’t rest until we will get her back.”

* * *

“She came out from behind a bush,” I tell Katrina and Jackson as we sit in the main room. Well, they're sitting, I'm pacing back and forth, unable to contain my nervous energy any longer. I kept it together for the whole hour back to the compound, I didn't want to scare Andrea, but now, I can't help it. “Her first shot barely missed, I think because I stopped to turn back to see how Melissa was doing.”

“Why was she behind you guys?” Jackson asks.

“She said she had to ask the doctor something, and she touched her stomach. She said she had a feeling, and she asked if I could let her be... she asked if I could let her be silly about it,” I answer, running my right hand through my hair. “She was so excited, and after what we had seen, I... I fucked up. I should have told Carson and Andrea to wait, had all four of us move together out to the van. I should have...”

“No time for that right now, Nathan,” Katrina says, looking up. “I see how she tracked you guys.”

“How?” I ask. Katrina, even after all this, continues to amaze me. I'm falling apart, on the edge of going into bellowing hysterics, and she's a total professional. I promise, if the world does go to hell and I have to go to war again, I want Katrina by my side.

She's been typing on her computer the whole time I've been explaining, already working when we came back, her eyes intense, only taking a moment to hug Andrea and Carson before getting back to work. She spins the laptop around and shows me. “The clinic, it's pretty high-tech looking, right? No paper, lots of computers and stuff like that?”

“Yeah,” Carson says, then his eyes go wide. “The alias.”

“Yep. Dr. Jackson's health records are all electronic. Right here, ten thirty a.m., Andrea Sands.”

Carson sighs and looks over at me. “I'm sorry, Nathan. I've been sitting here blaming you the whole time when it looks like it was my fault. I was the one who made that appointment under that alias.”

I shake my head, still pacing. “It doesn't matter, we all fucked up somehow. There had to be something else. The rock, something that I left behind when I went after Margaret, something. We thought we had tight security, but either Isis is even better than I thought, or Peter's got resources I didn't know about.”

“How is that?” Andrea asks, and I shake my head, turning my attention to Katrina.

“Get on the net, Katrina. Use every resource you've got, from Darcy to every hacker friend or ally you've made. We have to find her, we have to get her back. There's one thing I can think of that's an advantage to us.”

“What's that?” Jackson asks, and I clench my fist, hoping I'm not just feeding everyone a line of bullshit just to help them feel better. I hope I'm not lying to them or to myself.

“Isis caught up to us at the doctor's. That is about the worst place she could have tried to attack us,” I say, letting the cold analyst take over for at least a little bit. “If she had known about the compound, she would have hit us here.”

“So she doesn't know about us here,” Katrina says, catching my point. “She's trying to lure us all out.”

“Exactly. She wants us all at a place where she can collect all our heads at one time.”

“Why?” Jackson asks. “Why not be patient and whittle us down?”

I shake my head again. “Isis knows our capabilities. She knows if she tries that approach, there's a good chance we would all disappear. She thinks that I would tell you all to use Katrina's skills and disappear. Raise BA and Andrea's baby, and ride out the pain.”

“She doesn't know us that well then,” Carson says, and I fix him with a glare. “What?”

“If you risk BA or Andrea's baby in some stupid attempt at revenge for me or for Melissa, I swear that Isis will be the least of your problems,” I growl. “You protect your children, that's a fucking order, Carson.”

I've never given them an order before, and I can see Carson stiffen, staring at me with fire in his eyes before he nods, not happy, but understanding. “If we don't get her back, may you burn in hell, Nathan.”

“Already planning on it,” I reply. “If there is a moment in heaven for me, it's with Melissa.”

“What are the other reasons you think Melissa is safe?” Andrea asks, trying to deflect the argument before it escalates.

“Isis is greedy, and while patient, she knows as soon as Peter goes on trial or to jail, her contract is going to be pulled. She wants a score, and that means us. Melissa, ironically, was the lowest price out there. Jackson and Katrina are the biggest. She wants a shot at you guys. So she is going to try and draw us out, to get that shot.”

“Live bait,” Jackson sighs. “So what do we do? Because if she sets up something, we know she'll have the advantage.”

“Damn right she will,” I reply, picking up my phone. “So we need to intercept her before she can force us to that play. Katrina, use your online resources. I will call the Major, see what I can work on my end.”

“And us?” Andrea asks, and I give her a sympathetic look. I can do something, which is better than sitting around on your ass feeling like you can't do anything.

“Andrea, get tactical bags together for everyone but you. We can’t endanger your baby. I need to know if we try something stupidly heroic, that at least someone makes it to raise BA and your child. After that, I want you sitting with Katrina and learning how to work her systems, you’re going to be our support base. We’ve got a lot of work to do. I want us to be able to get on the road as soon as we figure out where Isis is taking Melissa. Jackson, you and I are going to work with Andrea, get the stuff ready here. As soon as Carson gets back, we load up the truck, ready to go. We just need to figure out where.”

The three of them nod, getting up and going to work without a word while I look at my phone, cursing when I see I have no battery left. Fucking smartphones. “Katrina, you have the charging cord?”

“Plug's in the kitchen,” Katrina says, pointing. “The quiet'll help you, too.”

I head into the kitchen and plug in, turning on my phone and dialing the Major. He picks up on the third ring, his voice tired. “What can I do for you, Sergeant?”

“Isis hit my family, Major. Melissa was just kidnapped, she had an accomplice. Change of mission.”

The Major immediately becomes all business, the exhaustion dropping from his voice. “Talk to me, Nathan. First, who is Melissa?”

“Melissa Sands, I'll have Katrina e-mail you a photo. She is Peter's daughter, and... she's my fiancée,” I tell him, emotion threatening to break through but I clamp it down. Do your fucking duty, soldier. Do your duty, and you might hold her again. “Thirty years old, five foot ten, strawberry blonde hair, gray eyes. Weighs about a hundred and twenty pounds.”

“Got it,” the Major says, and I know him, he's writing all this down as soon as it comes out of my mouth. “Isis' accomplice?”

“I don't know, he was wearing a ski mask and driving. The car had a Porsche badge, but was a subcompact SUV, electric blue with black trim on the wheel wells. Never seen it before, maybe a custom job? Temp tag on it still, couldn't make out the numbers or state through the back window, the tint was too dark.”

The Major grunts, and my ears perk up. “I know about that car. It's a Porsche Macan, they just released it in the United States within the past couple of years. Guess who bought one recently just like you described.”

“Peter DeLaCoeur,” I growl, fear striking my heart. “He was the driver.”

“Most likely,” the Major says, but he sounds happier about it than I would have suspected. “The good part about that, Sergeant, is that my team's had eyes on that car before, and we've been trying to find out everything we can about it. The team's been thinking it was Peter's one weak point. We can't find his fucking house yet, we think he's being mobile there or else he's living way out of town. But that car is his one vanity point he's keeping. Best of all, it's tricked out.”

“What do you mean?”

The Major hums, and I hear papers shuffling. “I mean the fucking thing was purchased with an electronic logbook which records distance traveled, fuel consumption, routes taken, starting and destination points, all of which can be wirelessly uploaded to your home computer. We'd been working on hacking the systems, but I think you know someone who can do that better than my team.”

“Goddamn right,” I growl, a small smile coming to my voice. “Okay, e-mail the specs to me, I'll pass them along. In the meantime, I want the team tearing apart every fucking crime den, crack house, whore house and whatever other house they can think of to find out where Peter might be taking Melissa. We suspect she's being kept as live bait to draw the rest of us out.”

“Understood, Sergeant. If I can ask, are you still able to be professional on this?” Major Munchak asks, concerned. “Can you handle it, Nathan?”

“You find him, everyone gets paid, even if I’m the one who puts a bullet in Peter and Isis. We get her back safe, I personally guarantee bonuses to everyone. As for professional, Major... no. She is my fucking heart and life.”

“Understood. Let me contact the team now, see what we can do. I'll see if I can call in some other assets, on me. There's business, and then there's brotherhood. I can't guarantee anything though, our timeline might be too tight. I'll be in touch.”

The major hangs up, and I sag for the first time. Hope and despair swirls around my head, I want to put faith in the people we have working on this, but at the same time I can't help but feel like it's going to be like Aisha again, never finding a body, just knowing that she's gone.

“The bags are ready,” Andrea says gently, coming into the kitchen and seeing me. “Jackson's with the guns, Carson's already left.”

“Tell Katrina to check my e-mail, the Major's forwarding some tech specs on the car that Peter's driving. It may have been Peter himself who was the getaway driver. There may be some hackable electronics on the car, something we can track. Also, have her send him a picture of Melissa.”

Andrea disappears for a moment, then comes back in. “She's looking it over now. Nathan...”

“I fucked up, Andi,” I whisper, staring at the granite countertop of the kitchen, the same type of granite Melissa made our pendants out of, the same type of granite that may have led Isis to focus on this area. Eighteen hours, it could have been enough to track us down and get up here. “I fucked up, and I put her in danger.”

“I fucked up, I should have protected her.”

“You did everything you could,” Andrea says gently, coming over and patting my back. “Carson's anger is fading, and I remember what you did in that parking lot. Do you? That shot went off, and the first thing you did was you put yourself between me and the sound of the shot. Even before you saw Isis, you knew where the shot came from and you protected me. And you did the best you could have. Who would have thought that Melissa would have run out of the clinic at the gun shots? The Melissa we met six months ago would have fallen on the ground in a panic attack and never left the building.”

“She's gotten so strong,” I whisper, wiping at my eyes.

“I know,” Andrea says, and I see that she's crying. “And we will get her back. I promise you, Nathan. I want my sister back just as much as you want your wife.”

“Not yet. That was going to be tomorrow, remember?” I ask, and Andrea nods. “You too.”

“Which is why those bags you asked, I did put one together for me. Not tactical, but I packed those pendants. When we get her back, we'll still have our ceremony. I promise you Nathan, we'll get her back.”

I hug her, providing as much comfort as I can. For years, I mentored her from a distance. Now, for the past six months, I've felt like she's become the daughter I've never had, and I hold her close. When her tears finally stop, I look down at her, and let her know my heart. “I love you, musumechan.”

She smiles, and hugs me back. “I love you, otoosan. When did you learn Japanese?”

“Just a little. When I knew that I had a true daughter that I loved, and I needed the words to tell her,” I whisper. “Thank you. You asked what you can do in this? You can be our strength, for all of us.”

“I can do that,” Andrea says, patting my back as she hugs me tighter. “I can do that for sure.”