"You're certain about this?" Marty asked, as she hurriedly opened her laptop with one hand. Okay, I'll be online in a second. I'll be waiting."

"What was that?" asked Jared as he sensed excitement in Marty's voice. Her actions were smooth, but focused.

Fingers flying over the keyboard, her eyes intent on the screen, she said, "Hold on, Jared. I think we've just gotten a major break."

"In regards to what?"

"How good is your Russian?"

Kevin looked at the real Tom Hardy, and smiled. "You feel up to a bit of travel?"

"I'm more than ready to go home," Tom answered, his tone confident, his eyes clear and determined. "Given what we've learned, I think that it's the appropriate course of action."

"This could prove dangerous," Kevin told him. "I think that we've gone through the bulk of the minefields in your brain, but there's always the chance that we've missed some."

Tom looked at Kevin, and said, "You know what to do if that happens." Their eyes met, and Kevin nodded. Tom continued. "If something goes wrong, or if...well, you know what I mean, tell Simone that I loved her and Tommy, that I still love both of them. Tell my mother..."

"You'll be there to tell them yourself," Kevin promised his friend. "Now, let me contact Marty and apprise her of all we've learned."

"I need a number," Felicia told Mac as she entered the front door of his home. "You've got better contacts than I do, given your police connections, so what I want to know is what number was dialed from Luke's Club, from this number at precisely 11:45 pm last night." She handed him a piece of paper with the numbers from the pay phone outside the restroom at Luke's. "Tom Hardy made a call to that number a couple of hours ago, and shortly afterwards, he and Angela were met by a few men. Angela was forced into a car, and Tom gave the men his wallet and then allowed them to hit him over the head. It was a set-up, Mac."

Felicia suddenly became aware that they weren't alone in the room. "It's okay," Mac said to the two men who had been listening intently to Felicia. "We can talk freely. Felicia, you know Jax and Taggert."

"About what?" Felicia demanded. "What's going on?"

"Seems quite a lot," Taggert answered. "I take it you haven't been listening to the radio this evening?"

"Actually, no," she responded.

"Let me summarize," Mac told her, as he handed Taggert the phone number. The other man made the requisite phone call while Mac explained about Robin, Jason and Sonny. "So you see, until this whole thing is settled, we have to appear to be heartbroken, mourning, and like that."

"My God," Felicia muttered. "Sonny was actually going to kill them?"

"Yeah. Talk about a rude awakening. Robin always thought that he'd come around, but she was wrong. So, this phone number-you think that it's important?"

"I'd bet on it."

"And you'd probably be right," Taggert told her, as he returned to them. "I have the number, and it's to a cellular phone-registered to one D.B. Saxon-whom we all know and hate as Cesar Faison."

"What do we know about the call? Roaming charges attached?"

"We're checking on that. Felicia was right about Tom, though. He was mugged this evening, and has told the police that his friend, Angela, was kidnapped. He was suffering from a mild concussion-claimed that his memories of the incident were a bit vague."

"Mine are crystal clear," Felicia told them. "And I haven't told you everything yet."

"No?" Mac asked.

"No," Felicia said. "But this has to be off the record, I think. Any of you know a couple of guys by the names of Jake Lowell and Jack Johnson?"

Jax grinned. "One of them tall, with an irrepressible sense of humor?"

At Felicia's nod, and the decidedly annoyed look on her face, Jax laughed out loud. "Lady Jane told me to be on the lookout for these two. They're on our side, Felicia."

"I hope so," she said, "Though Jake is...well...a little......."

"He's actually a lot," Jax told her. "He's my brother."

"Jerry is here?" Mac asked, his face a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Jerry Seat-of-his-pants Jacks?"

"Oh, god," Taggert shuddered. "Get your checkbook out, Jax. Where Jerry goes, disaster follows."

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