Spencer rotated his shoulder a few more times before sliding his arm into the starched white button-up and stared at himself in the mirror. He had to admit that these designer suits Amira had picked out looked pretty damned good; especially since he'd been working out with the men. Again, surprise surprise, he hadn't been able to convince Garrett to join him for workouts. Smirking, he tucked the shirt neatly into his sharply pressed charcoal suit pants. That done, he sat on the end of his bed- made so neatly and tightly that he was still sure he could bounce a quarter off it- and put on his shined black dress shoes. On his way through the kitchen, he grabbed the dark suit jacket off the back of a chair. Gracie lazily raised her head up from the couch and observed him doing the things he normally did before leaving and offered a meow, to which he responded with a few scratches behind the ear and under her chin.

"Bye, pretty girl. Don't work too hard."

With that, he shut and locked his apartment door and headed for his Buick. He had a meeting with the recruitment team first thing, then drills with Delta squad for the rest of the morning. After lunch, he and Amira were going to meet at The Firm  to look at a few houses. He grinned a little as he started the Buick. They had been talking about moving in together for some time now, but as they do, shit seemed to keep getting in the way. Azra was growing faster than either of them had expected; meanwhile L.A. had had to put down more than a few rogue issues in the last few months. All of it had added up to a lot of busyness and not a lot of time; together or to make decisions about things like where to sleep at night. 

Meetings went as expected. Drills went better than expected. Delta squad was an excellent force of strong young men; several of them being high potential for leadership down the road. Satisfied with what he'd seen, Spence headed up to his office where he expected to see his assistant Daniel waiting with messages and his lunch. Instead, he found Daniel with only a message. 

"Sir, there's an urgent message for you."

"OK, but how about my lunch?"

"The messenger that was supposed to bring your lunch brought only this instead and told me to bring it to you right away. I was just about to bring it up to you."

The young man passed the folded note to Spencer. The messenger was from the Firm, it always was, so whatever this was, it was from HQ. Spencer opened it and scanned it quickly. It wasn't a straight forward message; it was code that looked innocuous to the common reader, but told Spencer to "get the fuck back to The Firm right the fuck now." Stuffing the paper into his pocket, Spencer looked at Daniel and grabbed his suit jacket.

"86 everything on my schedule this afternoon. I won't be back."

Five minutes later, he was in his Buick again and peeling out of the parking deck. As he made his way onto the freeway, Spencer tried to quell the feeling of oncoming chaos that was bubbling up inside his chest. The Army had taught him how to control things like this- but the Army had never prepared him for the kind of life that a man lives working as an L.A. mobster. The heaviest feeling in the pit of his stomach and lingering in the back of his mind was that he hadn't spoken to Amira that morning.

As he pulled up the drive of the Firm compound, however, chaos is exactly what he found. It looked like every single car belonging to the Firm's crew was there. Some parked in spots, some haphazardly left halfway on the lawn as if the drivers had wheeled in and left the cars before they came to a complete stop. Something was going down. Spencer felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. As he killed the engine of the Buick, he noticed that Tyki's car was missing; and so was Amira's.

A few of the crew's new blood were standing outside having a smoke and talking. As Spencer neared, he saw one of them elbow one beside him and nod. They all looked at Spencer and seemed to go still like statues. Puzzled, he gave them a nod by way of greeting, then walked inside to see a hive of agitated, frenzied activity. Men were talking over one another, shouting commands from across the room while others were on the phone or writing things down. Several were Made guys, some were their security. Whatever it was, it was all-hands. 

But when they spotted Spencer, everything stopped. For a whole ten seconds, everyone just seemed to slow-motion drop what they were doing and turn to look at him with expressions on their faces like the doomsday clock was on it's last tick. Unsure what to do and extremely confused at this point, Spencer started to open his mouth when Joey pushed his way out from behind a few guys. He walked right up to him, face to face, with a low voice, barely looking him in the eye.

"Spence, you gotta get upstairs, man."

Something about the way he said it and the look on every face around him made Spencer's stomach lurch. In the next moment, he was in a full bolt up the staircase. All he could think about was getting to her room faster, and hoping to any god that would listen that the worst wasn't waiting for him. His feet were like thunder across the second floor corridor as he moved toward the private stairs that led to the third floor, and in another breath he was surmounting that staircase, skipping two steps with his stride. At the top of the staircase, he could see people standing at the door to Amira's  suite; but when they saw him, they all cleared away just in time for him to come to a stop in the doorway.

The front room was an utter disaster. The furniture was upended, books scattered about, glass shattered below her bar shelf. The cabinet where she kept her blades stood open and more than a few of the weapons were missing. Viridia was standing in the space where the Victorian couch was supposed to be. Her face was unlike he'd seen it before. It was calmer than he would have thought, but her eyes were on fire. Also in the room was Garrett Mitchell- the resident psychiatrist and friend to all three of them. He was staring out the window as still as a statue until he heard Spencer hit the door. 

"Spence-"

Garrett took a few steps toward his friend, but Spencer didn't see anything else around him. He could feel his neck growing hot beneath the collar of his suit shirt. His heart was beating hard and fast, and his fists were clenched tightly. It was more than clear that there had been a fight- Amira would have fought. But the hollow feeling that crept through him whispered a truth that chilled him to the bone.

She was gone.

Nick sat in a darkened room, staring at the smiling police detective across the table from him. The cop wore the look of a man who just won a chess game. Sitting at the foot of the table was another man, a strange machine on the table in front of him. Cables from the machine were wrapped around Nick's chest and abdomen. 

"See that machine, wise guy?" Detective Green sneered, "It's one of those newfangled lie detectin' machines. And that guy workin' it? He's on loan from the feds. So, if you try to bullshit your way out of this, we'll know it,"

He glanced over at the fed, who gave him a thumbs up. 

"Are you or are you not an associate of Amira Dayan?"

"I am not," Nick replied calmly. 

"He's telling the truth," the technician added. 

"Can I go now?"

"No. I'm not done!"

The detective got up and began to pace. 

"Where were you on the evening of December 21 of last year?"

"178 Maple Street. I was there all night,"

The detective stopped in shock and leaned over the table toward Nick. Nick didn't move. 

"That's bullshit!" he thundered into Nick's face. 

"Actually, he's telling the truth,"

The detective spun on the technician.

"That's my parents' house, idiot,"

"Well, the machine says he's telling the truth,"

Green's face began to redden. 

"And what were you doin' at my parents' house then, asshole? Sellin' encyclopedias?"

"Actually, I was blowin' your mom's back out,"

The sound of badly stifled laughter came from the foot of the table.

"He's telling the truth, detective,"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" the detective boomed.

"If you came within a mile of my mother, my father would kill you,"

Nick arched an eyebrow

"Why? It was his idea. Weirdo was in the closet the whole time, watching. The guy's a freak,"

"That's a damn lie! My father's a real man!"

"The only reason I put with it is that your mother is just that good a lay,"

"I'm gonna throw you in jail for the rest of your life, asshole. Nobody slanders my parents and gets away with it!"

"Actually, he's..." the technician began. 

Before the man could finish his sentence, the enraged cop grabbed the experimental machine and dashed it to pieces against the cement block wall of the interrogation room. 

"I say he's lying!" Green bellowed just as a pair of cops burst into the room. 

One of the two men was an older gentleman with captain's bars. Nick knew that it was Green's superior officer, Captain Stephens. He didn't look happy. He looked even less happy when he saw the ruins of the polygraph machine. 

"God damn it, Green. Do you have any idea how much that gadget is going to cost the department to replace?"

"No,"

"Well, you're gonna find you because it's coming out for your meager, but unearned, paycheck,"

The captain turned to Horn, as if noticing him for the first time. 

"Beat it," Stephens said and Nick complied. 

Nick was on his way to a pay phone to call a cab when a familiar face walked up to him. 

"Hey, Nick. Have you seen Ms Dayan recently?"

A cold fist gripped Nick's stomach.

"We think she's been taken,"