Fenny sighed as the plane leveled out and did a swooping turn over the Pacific, trying to decide whether or not to pray for a terrorist attack that would send the plane into a field in Kansas somewhere. Granted it would hinder their ability to help find and rescue Gina and Paul, but on the other hand, it would be a convenient solution to her problem of how to get from Los Angeles International Airport to Heathrow without either drowning herself in the cramped bathroom or doing something rash to Ritza midair. Considering that security on the way in had gone so far as to take her nail file and safety pins for fear of her taking over the plane, the likelihood of her being able to injure Ritza was rather slim. Rats.

She leaned back in her seat, trying in vain to catch up on the sleep that had been wrenched from her by Greg’s frantic phone call. But even if she hadn’t had a vague phobia of sleeping on a plane full of strangers and the vulnerability it entailed, she would have been too distracted by Brad and Ritza’s animated conversation to get any rest.

“You know, Ella really is amazing, the way she’s volunteered to take care of Gus for me while I came out to visit you. Lilly’s a sweet girl, but you’ve seen how she and Gus get along, he’s such a bad influence on her,” Ritza giggled. “Those two together would probably drive Mother Theresa to kill them.”

“No, they’re good kids, just rambunctious,” Brad smiled. “It’s good for them to be able to have fun together like they do, especially with the age difference.”

“I guess the big question is, when we get back, will Mochrie still have all of her fur?”

They laughed together at some private joke, and Fenny scowled out the window. Yeah, this was gonna be fun.

“Something wrong, babe?”

Fenny jumped and looked over to Brad, who moved back the armrest and looked at her questioningly. “Just tired, and I can’t get to sleep,” she grumbled.

“Aah,” Brad nodded, knowing about her paranoid inability to sleep on planes. He scooted closer to her and wrapped an arm around her, slipping her glasses from her face with the other hand as he smiled at her. “Come on, I’m here sweetie, nothing’ll happen, I’ll protect you.”

“Don’t be so patronizing,” Fenny snapped, pulling away from him and swiftly knocking the armrest back between them. She snatched back her glasses and hastily pushed them on. “Besides, we both know how good you are at protecting me, don’t we? The last time someone ended up in a black van it was because of your protective instincts, wasn’t it?”

“Fen, I, I didn’t mean anything, I just, I’m sorry,” Brad flustered.

“I’m trying to sleep,” Fenny groused, stretching her legs out as best she could and leaning against the headrest, facing away from him.

Brad and Ritza shrugged at each other, and each grabbed an in-flight magazine to peruse.

“Put them in the plane,” Claudia said coolly, continuing to glare at Gina, who reciprocated the gesture with a stoic stare. “Tie them up while you’re at it,” she added, stepping away from Paul as he was grabbed by a heavy. She put away her gun as she marched up to Gina. “I’ve heard stories about you,” she declared, standing face to face with Gina. “And as much as I’d hate to hurt such a pretty specimen as your man you seem to have a soft spot for, if you do anything stupid, I could make you watch him die before I kill you.”

“Get fucked,” Gina spat, and as the arms grabbing her from behind tightened, she knew what was coming and braced herself as Claudia’s hand flew across her cheek, her nails lightly scratching the skin. Even as her face burned, Gina continued to glare at Claudia, not giving her the satisfaction of watching her react.

“I can make you watch that too if you don’t behave,” Claudia said with an evil smirk as she turned back to wink at Paul. “Take them away. And gag the woman, I don’t like her mouth.”

Gina and Paul were bustled viciously into the plane by the four heavies. “You know, for drug dealers, you people have some pretty shitty accommodations,” Paul mused as he looked around the less than pleasant interior of the plane; tattered seats, tacky wood paneling, orange shag carpeting that had certainly seen better days.

“Sit,” the bearded heavy growled.

“What, on that?” Gina gasped, looking down at a seat that looked like puppies had been delivered on it. “Surely you have a spare seat in first class?”

He pushed her onto the seat as his companion produced a set of heavy ropes from somewhere in the cabin. They split the ropes amongst themselves and set to work tying Gina to the seat. She struggled against them, not because she really had any delusions of escape, but because she wanted to make things as difficult as possible.

“Hey watch it buddy, you’re invading my personal space,” Gina gasped as one of them slid his hand over her breasts as he secured a rope across her chest. In response he grabbed her harshly and she, in turn, kicked him swiftly between the legs.

He let out a stream of incoherent syllables as he fell to the ground. “That’s what you get for fondling my wife, dickhead,” Paul growled from his seat two rows ahead of her.

“Get the gags,” the heavy groaned from the floor as he pulled himself upright. He yanked one from his bearded friend and seemed to take great pleasure in the idea of gagging Gina, until she voluntarily opened her mouth to give him easy access. He muttered to himself as he tied it behind her head, and she smiled at herself. Paul, who she could see being gagged, seemed to be loudly humming a selection of tunes from, of all things, Cats. She’d have to remember to speak to him about that.

The bearded heavy grabbed both of her ankles firmly, and pushed her knees apart with his elbows, holding her legs spread against the supports of her seat while the other tied her feet securely. Claudia reappeared, flipping her cell phone closed. A nod to one heavy sent him towards the cockpit, which Gina and Paul could only hope housed a competent pilot.

Claudia inspected the hostages for a moment until, once the engine roared to life, she nodded to herself and headed to the front of the plane as well. Gina slumped back in her seat, trying to breathe around the ropes, wondering how they were going to get themselves out of it this time around.

Greg tapped his fingers against the wall of the elevator, wondering why they always seemed to go so slowly when you had pressing matters at hand. When the light for the ground floor lit, he grabbed his bag and slipped through the doors when they were barely open enough for him to squeeze out. Danny was clearly visible sitting in the car outside the hotel, and Greg smiled, clutching his bag closer to him. It was nice having someone around who liked to be prepared, and had been pleasantly surprised when he’d pulled up to the curb and Danny asked where his bag was. So he’d made a quick detour to his hotel room to pack a couple extra shirts, toothbrush, razor and comb. Now he could fight evil in style, and only hoped that they managed to keep hold of their things for a while longer than they usually did.

“Figured out where we’re gonna go yet?” Greg asked, tossing his bag into the back and slipping behind the wheel as Danny continued perusing the maps he’d procured.

“Not a bloody clue,” Danny sighed.

“Well the guy on the tape seemed like he was in a hurry to get to Amsterdam, maybe we should think about getting there then.”

“Or maybe he left that message as a decoy to mess with anyone who might be looking for Gina,” Danny said with suspiciously raised eyebrows.

“Crime fighting hint number one,” Greg mused, starting the engine, “all lackeys are morons, and must be treated accordingly. The fuckheads probably didn’t even know the thing was turned on.”

“Right,” Danny nodded. “The airport then?”

“Call and see when we can get a flight. Until then we can check out the local area, see if there’s any hint of them around.”

“What, just look around for ugly guys with guns?”

“That’s about it,” Greg sighed.

“How the hell have you people managed to stay alive as long as you have?”

“No idea. Call the airline, get us booked. That and catching up with Fen and Brad is just about all we can do now.”

“What about going back to our hotels and crawling into bed?” Danny croaked as he pulled out his cell phone.

“I’ll tell Gina you said that, shall I?”

“Right, big ugly drug dealing guys with semiautomatic weapons, I’m looking,” Danny grumbled miserably as he dialed his phone.

Brad still snored lightly, his body curled in what could not have been a comfortable position, facing Fenny and the window beyond that she’d spent the last three hours staring out of. Brad had filled Ritza in on some of the pertinent details of Don and their previous adventures in Scotland and Paris that he’d left out the first time around. And then they’d fallen silent, Ritza choosing to read while Brad slipped on some headphones and watched one of the in-flight movies before falling asleep listening to one of the music channels.

Fenny had tried not to dwell on the fact that Ritza was once again worming her way rather unwanted not only into her life but Brad’s as well. She tried distracting herself with worries about Paul and Gina, but couldn’t really rationalize any worrying about those two, they were more than competent and would probably have the bad guys rolling in pain on the floor by the time they found them. Just in case, though, she tried to think of a plan of action, but her mind was more suited to color schemes and typography than vicious scheming and plans of attack. She was stuck worrying about Greg and Danny instead. That line of thinking, however, lead directly to just plain Danny, who she’d been trying not to think about, and worrying about what she would say when they finally met again. All she was sure of was that pulling off his shirt and showering him in kisses would not be an option, regardless of how persistently that image was running through her mind.

The plane jolted and the pilot announced they would be landing in a few minutes. Brad’s eyes fluttered open and slowly focused on Fenny. She smiled weakly as he beamed at her and stretched out some of his stiff muscles as they all gathered their things in preparation for landing.

As the plane began its descent, Ritza let out a short squeal and clutched on to her armrests, her face going a bit pale. Brad put a comforting hand over hers and all of Fenny’s thoughts descended into a need to get off the plane before her fingernails dug too deeply into the palms of her clenched fists.

Once they were all off the plane and gathered in the terminal, Brad decided they’d pop into the cafeteria to have some snacks so as not to have to rely on airplane food.

“I’m calling Greg,” Fenny declared once they’d found a table, stomped over towards the windows and pulled out her cell phone. She dialed and waited, lightly kicking the wall, getting more and more antsy with each ring. Just as she was beginning to wonder if it was time to worry he’d been kidnapped as well, Greg answered.

“Fen?”

“Yeah, hi Proops. Any news yet? Leads or anything?”

“No, nothing yet.”

“Well what have you been doing?”

“Um, driving around E-burgh looking for ugly black vans and drug dealers.”

“Yeah, fabulously productive idea Greg,” she sneered.

“Hey, we’re doing the best we can here, we’re waiting for a plane.”

“We’ve managed to fly across an entire country and you’re still stuck in Edinburgh?” she demanded.

“What crawled up your ass?”

“You really wanna know? Ritza Crispin.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, Brad invited her to stay with us, without informing me, I might add, and she’s been recruited to join the search party.”

“Well it might be good to have a psychotic on our side for a change, so long as she doesn’t snap and decide to kill us again. She’s not, is she?”

“Not if I kill her first,” Fenny grumbled.

“It’ll be hard for you to help save your friends if you’re in jail, Fen,” Greg said with the slightest of snickers.

“Yeah? Well you try flying across the continental United States with it.”

“What, are you in New York or something?”

“Yeah, we’ve got a layover for the next hour before we can get on a plane to London.”

“Well we’ve got a plane straight to Amsterdam in about two hours, so I guess we’ll be meeting you there, huh?”

“Yeah. I’ll call when we hit London, you can scout out a place for us to meet you in Amsterdam.”

“Well Danny’s picked up a map, so we’re a little more organized than usual.”

“Right. Um, look, could you tell Dan thanks for helping out, and I’ll call when we get to London.”

“Sure. Bye Fen.”

“Bye.” Fenny turned off her phone, grimaced at the idea of going back to Ritza and Brad, but upon noticing that Brad had taken it upon himself to get her a piece of chocolate cake, it was a risk she was willing to take. Her only hope at this point was that Ritza had managed to leave her passport in Montana, but knowing Fenny’s luck, she probably kept it about her person at all times, “just in case.”

“Fen says hi,” Greg declared, turning off his phone and continuing down the street.

“Oh,” Danny said noncommittally.

“How do you know Fen, anyway?” Greg asked, genuinely curious.

“Um, I used to work with her ex-boyfriend.”

“Ha! So you’re Fen’s other mystery guy, aren’t you?” Greg cackled.

“Hey?” Danny peeped.

“Last time she went to Australia, the whole Andy/Brad/other guy crisis. Man, tough break for you.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Danny sighed.

“Oh man, look, sorry dude. Didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, that’s okay. I mean she’s happy, I’m happy, or I was until I got pulled into this, now I’m just freaked out.”

“Well she’s not entirely happy either. Ritza’s coming with her and Brad.”

“Ritza, that’s that mad woman who tried to kill you guys when Brad broke up with her?”

“Yeah, and now she’s living in Brad’s place in Montana and Fen has to pretend she likes the woman. But on the upside, now we have someone who can think like the psychotic killers that have Gina and Paul.”

Danny nodded to himself and decided he didn’t like the direction the conversation was traveling. “So, you’ve known Gina and Paul for some time then, have you?”

“Oh yeah, Paul and I go way back to the old days of touring. Gina and I have known each other for years. Actually she broke my heart a while back when she chose Paul over me. So there’s hope for you yet, Daniel, broken hearts do mend.” Greg cast a sideways glance at Danny, whose brow was furrowed as he looked out the windshield, still scouring for anything suspicious.

“Hey, there’s a big black van…should we check it out?”

“Good man,” Greg chirped, making a sharp turn down a side street so he could double back and pull into the warehouse parking lot they’d just passed. He parked at the other end of the lot and they tried their best to sneak up to the van without looking foolish. Once they’d gotten up close to it, they paused, regarding it carefully. It shifted harshly and a distinctly female voice let out a painful scream. Greg and Danny moved closer, looking about for anything that could be used as a weapon if it came to that, both deciding they’d have to settle for one of the big rocks that lay strewn across the lot. They tiptoed towards the back of the van and stopped.

“Oh god, Kevin, please, harder, aaah!”

Greg turned an incredulous look at Danny, who shrugged. As they turned back towards their car, all methods of sneakery and stealthiness abandoned as “Kevin” let out a series of rather unattractive grunts that signified he was almost finished.

“Hey, you said to look out for vans, I was looking out for vans,” Danny sighed as Greg pulled out of the parking lot.

“Okay, look out for vans that don’t involve people fucking in the back then,” Greg said with a bemused smile.

“How can you tell the difference?” Danny countered.

“Just tell me how to get to the airport,” Greg laughed.

Paul had given up any chance at getting out of his binding, and as he cast a glance backwards, he saw that Gina had resigned herself as well. Three heavies were positioned around the plane, theoretically guarding them, but two were playing poker and the other was absently chipping away the wood paneling with a knife. Paul had given up counting the holes in the ceiling tiles as he always came up with a different number, and Gina looked like she was drifting off. It was a good theory to let the kidnappers think that their victims weren’t phased by their abduction. And they weren’t, really. Gina and Paul had been through this enough times, they figured this time would turn out like all the others. Paul was more worried about getting Gina to listen to reason for once in her life and maybe let him convince her that he wasn’t the devil incarnate after all. But the more time Paul had to think about it, the more he realized that there was a lot of evidence against him, but the trust they’d built up over the course of their sometimes sporadic marriage should have warranted him the benefit of the doubt.

Before Paul could get well and truly frustrated with the whole situation, the plane’s engine gave a protesting cough and the plane began to descend, he could only hope on purpose. They hadn’t been in the air very long, but then again Paul had lost track of time and there was no telling how much time had passed.

The landing was rough and far from pleasant, but when the plane finally stopped, Claudia disappeared outside for a moment, cell phone pressed to her ear and completely oblivious to everyone else. The poker game continued and the other heavy seemed to have reached the metal body of the plane, clinking his knife into the hole he’d made in the siding.

Claudia reappeared and barked, “Untie them, but watch them.”

Paul was relieved at the feeling of having his bonds removed, and gratefully swiveled his wrists as his arms were released. Another figure caught Paul’s attention as he appeared in the doorway.

“Donald,” Claudia smiled. “You’ve met my friends?”

“Yes indeed,” Don cackled. “We go way back.” Paul watched as the sinister Don sauntered over to Gina as she was being untied. He stood between her legs and crouched down to speak to her face to face. “Good to see you again,” Don sneered as the ropes from around Gina’s chest were loosened. “Granted I would have rather your little Yank friend, but you were the one who really lost me all that money and my merchandise. And you’re a bit easier to find. Forgot about that press pass you thought you could use to defend yourself, didn’t you? I knew that you’d come in handy, being an agent of the press. Made you easy to find, too.”

Once Gina’s leg was untied she went to kick him square in the neck, but he had gotten quicker since their last meeting, and he caught her by the ankle. Her eyes bugged at him in surprise as she bit down angrily on her gag.

“You don’t think I’d fall for the same trick twice, do you?” He stepped away from her, dropped her leg, and let the heavies finish their work untying them as he went over to Claudia, talking in hushed tones. Once Paul and Gina were untied the gags were removed.

“What are you doing you psychotic fuckhead?” Paul demanded angrily.

“You have two options, McDermott,” Don sneered. “You and your little wife here shut the fuck up, or I shut you up.” He produced a very unpleasant gun and pointed it casually at Paul’s skull. Paul frowned, but didn’t say a word. “Good boy.” Don turned to the heavies and nodded towards the door. “Take them outside. I’ve got a little surprise for our guests.”