Glee 1. One

**A/N**: _I know I should be finishing up my other stories but I've had this idea for a while. Don't worry, I've got the rest of Our Best Friend's Wedding on the update editing block and another chapter for the Private Escapades coming up as well, but I figured I'd get this out and see what people thought or if there would be any interest in yet another AU story from me. Might as well, right? It may be total crap, and you all will have to let me know if I should continue or not, but I thought it could be...interesting. Thanks for reading._

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**ONE**

"What a day," Quinn groaned to herself as she tossed her briefcase and suit jacket into the passenger seat of her car, smoothing the back of her skirt before taking a seat behind the wheel of her SUV. She sifted through her purse for her phone, dialing her home number to no avail before calling her sixteen year old daughter's cell phone number, groaning once again as her daughter's voicemail message filled her ears for the third time that day.

"Hey Beth, it's mom…again. I've called a few times today and you haven't answered or called back so I'm going to assume you've been at volleyball practice. I know it's a little later than I promised and I'm so sorry I wasn't there afterwards to take you out to dinner and visit your dad like I promised, but I'm just now leaving work so I should be home in about twenty minutes," she offered after the beep, pausing for a moment before adding, "I love you, sweetheart."

She had really screwed up this time.

It was the three and a half year anniversary of Puck's death and both she and Beth had a ritual of visiting his gravesite every six months on a regular basis. And she felt terrible missing the occasion. She hated to make excuses and knew Beth could care less about her reason for missing their annual trip to the cemetery that afternoon, but it really wasn't her fault.

The past few months had been beyond stressful, as her team at the State Department had seen an increased influx of terrorist activity within their sphere of surveillance in Europe. They had been watching this particular group for over a year but it seemed as though they had gotten even bolder over the past several months since they began trafficking out of some of Europe's major hubs in London's Heathrow Airport and the main train depot out of Berlin, Germany.

It had been a stressful five months but she thought she finally might be making some pretty substantial progress toward apprehending these international criminals and warlords, the US Army and State Department officials inching closer and closer to apprehending the big names behind the syndicates that were trafficking everything from weapons to drugs across the continents. They were so close to nabbing these guys, and once they did, Quinn vowed that she and Beth were taking a long and much deserved vacation on some island somewhere.

She let out a deep sigh before backing out of her space in the parking garage and driving away from the glass building where she reported for work day in and day out.

She took a few cleansing breaths as she pulled onto the freeway and made her way toward their suburban Virginian home. She used to love her job, but nowadays it just seemed like it would be far more productive to bang her head against the wall repeatedly instead of research and fill out the reports she was required to file over the years.

She used to be full of hope and dreams of making a change in the world, but after seeing the real ins-and-outs of government work, Quinn wished she could go back in time and re-evaluate her life plans.

After graduation from high school and upon acceptance into the prestigious Ivy League Yale University, Quinn had been full of grandiose ideas of double-majoring in both theater and English. She even took several classes in each discipline before a professor emeritus in one of her modern languages classes suggested a different route for her, introducing her to several people he knew that worked for the United States government.

She began taking more classes in foreign policy and international relations, taking the opportunity to study abroad in Spain and France during her summer after her freshman year. She even found an internship working for the Defense Intelligence Agency during her sophomore and junior years of college. She was truly on the up and up from there and with the encouragement of some of the faculty, she had started to see a life in government service and politics in her future.

That was until summer after her junior year of college, when she got a phone call that changed her entire life. The conversation had her reeling and most of the information the man on the phone had tried to explain fell on deaf ears with the exception of a few key phrases. Shelby passed away in a tragic car accident. No discernible guardian for five-year old Beth. Shelby left instructions to contact her and Puck in the instance of her death… It was a lot to take in.

As soon as she was finally able to wrap her head around things, she contacted Puck. After milling around Los Angeles and Lima, Ohio for the year after high school graduation, he finally decided to do something with his life, enlisting in the Air Force and surprisingly qualifying for a position within their intelligence department. He spent a year in Texas before being reassigned to one of the intel units out of Colorado Springs, Colorado, and Quinn could not have been more proud of him for his accomplishments.

However, she owed it to him to let him in on what was going on, even if it meant possibly capsizing his entire life he had built for himself. This was their daughter, after all.

After explaining the bits and pieces she remembered from the conversation with the executor of Shelby's estate, the two of them had a very frank discussion about their lives and their futures. Neither one of them had planned on anything like this happening and neither thought they were particularly ready for the responsibility, but they both quickly agreed that there was no way they could give Beth up again, especially if it meant putting her into the state system for an indeterminate amount of time.

The two of them made arrangements to immediately travel to New York, Puck and Quinn reuniting briefly with their friends that lived in the city and their mothers before the entire entourage accompanied the duo down to the city's child services office. They petitioned for custody and guardianship, each of their friends and family members acting as character witnesses on their behalf. Despite their age, income and respective occupations, the court found the original parents to be more suitable as parents than the foster system, granting them custody over their daughter.

Despite the distance, tough times and hard work by both she and Puck, their dedication and devotion to their daughter brought them closer together, the two of them falling back in love and marrying not long after Quinn graduated. Even though things hadn't been easy and their lives hadn't gone entirely as planned, they both made the most of it. After plenty of long hours and hard work, Quinn finally landed her dream job at the US State Department while Puck earned himself a transfer to Andrews Air Force Base in Washington D.C., the family settling in nicely into their suburban lifestyle.

When she first started working at the State Department, she found it to be quite fulfilling and she loved how she had a chance to truly affect the world and foreign policy. But over the years it had become a bit taxing, especially once her husband Puck began getting deployed with the Air Force, his tours of duty taking him into the heart of danger in the Middle East while she was left to parent Beth on her own.

Don't get her wrong, she loved being a parent and yearned for all the time in the world to spend with her daughter. It was just hard feeling like you were on your own, especially when that daughter began to grow from the loquacious, happy-go-lucky little girl into a more quiet and moody pre-teen.

However, three and a half years ago, their entire world was disrupted in a major way yet again. Puck had been deployed for the third time to Afghanistan, and word came back that he had been killed in an ambush on the Army convoy he was traveling with. The news was a devastating blow, the family reeling from the sudden loss of their patriarch. Quinn lost her best friend and her lover while Beth had lost her father at the tender age of 13. She was a total daddy's girl and the news came as a huge shock to her system, the girl becoming a bit despondent and depressed until Quinn and her best friend Santana convinced Beth to take up a sport or activity, the now sophomore in high school enjoying a variety of activities from volleyball to show choir.

Quinn was beyond proud of her daughter and her accomplishments, wanting nothing more to see her daughter happy and successful. However, she was a teenage girl who no longer had a strong male figure in her life and Quinn found herself struggling to balance work with raising a sixteen-year old daughter.

Beth was a straight-A student but she was still a bit rebellious though, and as of late, had been sneaking off and hanging out with her friends and boyfriend more and more leaving Quinn more than a bit worried. She often found herself wondering what their life would be like if Puck were still around, and often smiled at the thought that he probably would have threatened to shoot any boy that came near Beth. Yet, Quinn had tried to be a bit more sympathetic as she had been sixteen once and she should truly be thankful Beth hadn't gone down the same path she had when she was a sophomore but it was still frustrating and disconcerting at times. After all, Beth was a high school girl with a boyfriend, so anything Quinn said or told her, Beth seemed to ignore, especially when Quinn had started spending more time at the office.

But work was work and she was onto a huge break, almost guaranteed a promotion if this went through well, and they could definitely use the money as things had been a bit tight after Puck's death, but Quinn was determined to make life good for her daughter. It had been hard enough to give her up in the first place and after telling her about her story as a baby, Beth had withdrawn even more from Quinn, if that was even possible. It was her fault and she knew she needed to make more of an effort with her daughter. She knew she owed it to Beth, and she was planning on at least making a start to making it up to her as soon as she got home.

Life without Puck wasn't easy and she missed him terribly every damn day, even the simplest thought of him crossing her mind often brought tears to her eyes. He was such a good husband and a fantastic father and she couldn't help but think that he would know what to do when it came to Beth. Quinn had felt so lost since he died and found herself "talking" to him every night, often wondering where she was going wrong with Beth and how she could fix things, never forgetting to tell him how much she loved and missed him. He was a natural at everything he did (when he decided to actually apply himself) and had always been there for her during the thick and the thin, finding a way around adversity whenever it arose.

She shook her head and wiped away the tears that began to fall upon thinking about him, taking a deep breath and collecting herself as she pulled off of the beltway and onto the residential streets of Alexandria, Virginia the Puckerman family called home.

It was close to 7:30 pm when she finally turned down their street, Quinn scrunching her brown into a frown when she saw her home at the end of the block, the entire house dark as she pulled up onto the drive. She dialed Beth's number once again and groaned again as it went straight to her voicemail. Beth's car was parked in the drive so she should be home by now, but there was always the possibility that someone came to pick her up. It was a school night and Quinn was going to be beyond pissed if she decided to go out with her friends or hang out with her boyfriend when it was only a Tuesday night.

She wracked her brain for a few minutes to try and figure out if Beth had any events or games that night, but they had planned to visit Puck's grave in Arlington that afternoon so she didn't think she was missing anything.

Frustrated and grumpy already, she grabbed her briefcase and suit jacket and made her way into the house, tossing both articles onto the countertop before venturing to the far wall and flipping on the light switch.

Immediately her senses were assaulted by the absolute chaos and disaster that ensconced her entire home. Dishes lay shattered on the ground and the kitchen chairs had been tossed aside, decorations and picture frames smashed as it looked like a tornado swept through the house. The living room didn't look much better, furniture overturned as books and DVDs lie scattered across the floor.

Had they been robbed?

Quinn quickly grasped for her sidearm in her briefcase, hoisting it in front of her as she briskly and methodically made her way through every room on the lower level of her home, each room looking equally as upturned as the next. She couldn't imagine what the upstairs looked like.

At the thought, she felt her heartbeat race as the panic began to set in, terror filling her whole body as she thought of her daughter. What if she was here when this happened? What would the intruders have done if they found her here?

The bile began to rise in her throat as she thought of the possibilities, Quinn making a mad dash up the stairs as she frantically searched each room for any sign of Beth, her hopes sinking with every empty and equally destroyed room.

"Beth!" she screamed out as she ran room to room before heading back down the stairs, "BETH?"

However, the sight of a white envelope taped to the front door stopped her dead in her tracks, her voice caught in her throat as she saw the scroll on the front.

_Puckerman_

She swallowed hard, fear bubbling up as she grasped the letter and pulled it off of the door. With trembling fingers she opened the envelope, taking a deep breath before reading the few lines on the page.

_You took something very important to me and I want it back. So until then, I took something very important of yours… your daughter. Think of her as collateral. _

_You know what I want. Bring it to the National Docks by midnight or you'll never see your precious little girl ever again. You think I'm bluffing, just try me. Guaranteed, you won't like the outcome if you choose to ignore this request._

_See you soon._

Quinn fought the urge to vomit as the words finally registered in her brain.

She had been taken.

Beth had been kidnapped.

And she didn't have a fucking clue what to do.

She had no idea what they were talking about in the letter! She didn't know what they thought she had taken from them or what they were wanting! She was a goddamn analyst, not a spook! She hadn't been anywhere outside of her office or her house for the last three years, so she couldn't possibly have taken anything of consequence from these people!

Her head began to spin as she thought of the possibilities, her entire body shaking at the thought that one of the heads of the crime syndicates she had been investigating had somehow caught wind of what they were doing and decided to strike first or extract revenge for any of the smaller counterintelligence operations her team had already run in the past.

This was all her fault, and now her baby girl was in trouble because she felt her job and devotion to her country was more important than her family.

Beth was innocent and Quinn had placed her danger…and now she was gone.

Taken.

From their own home, none the less.

Abducted.


	2. Two

**A/N: **_I keep this brief since I'm kind of on a roll and I've got another chapter to this fic (this chapter went a bit long so I broke it up into two parts) as well as one for Our Best Friend's Wedding that I'm finishing up. Sorry about the wait, but thank you all so much for the awesome reception to this fic! It's always nerve-wracking starting a new story and I hope you will all stick with this and enjoy it as much as I'm enjoying writing it… and I do love writing ass-kicking Quinn! Thank you to all my readers, subscribers, and those of you who have already favorite this story! Big thanks to __**Perfectly-Imperfect-447, Destroyer of Nations, FinchelQuick34, littleredwritinggleek, guest, marine04, guest, Ellii51, Randomly-hyper8711, olacindy, low on inspiration, JustaLittleWallflower, Msjanelle32, Shananigan, tomboy2012 and Eyghon **__for your awesome reviews! I've seen reviews from a lot of you on my other stories and it means so much to me that you all are still interested in what I write! I love you all! Now, on with the story…_

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**TWO**

"_You took something very important to me and I want it back. So until then, I took something very important of yours… your daughter. Think of her as collateral._

_You know what I want. Bring it to the National Docks by midnight or you'll never see your precious little girl ever again. You think I'm bluffing, just try me. Guaranteed, you won't like the outcome if you choose to ignore this request._

_See you soon."_

_Beth was innocent and Quinn had placed her danger…and now she was gone._

_Taken._

_From their own home, none the less._

_Abducted._

x-x-x-x-x-x

Quinn felt sick as she re-read the letter Beth's kidnappers left a few more times, the knot in her stomach growing with every word on the page. Who could have taken her and what did they want? And why her? Why take her little girl?

Her legs trembled furiously as she braced herself against the wall; Quinn's head beginning to swim as the memories began to flood her mind. _The first time she saw her daughter as the nurse placed that tiny pink bundle in her arms, Beth's sweet baby smell the most intoxicating scent Quinn had ever experienced. The sight of the little girl running toward her and Puck after the judge awarded them custody, wrapping their daughter in their embrace. Spending every night for almost a month after Beth moved in with her sleeping next to her in Beth's cramped twin bed when she couldn't sleep. Watching her seven year old walk down the aisle at their wedding, Quinn bawling as she watched her husband and their daughter dancing together during the father-daughter dance. Cheering her on at her first volleyball match. Holding her close and cuddling every night after Puck's death. Witnessing her grow from a girl into a young woman. Helping her pick out a dress and doing her hair and make-up for homecoming and prom these past few years. Lending her a shoulder to cry on after her first heartbreak. _

It was all too much.

_Oh God, did she even remember to tell Beth she loved her before her daughter left for school that morning?_

And now standing there realizing that somebody had violated the sanctity and safety of their home and took her one perfect thing, her baby girl and the only vestige of her late husband she had left, made her stomach knot even further.

Where did they take her and what did they want from them?

What had they done to her?

What if they – oh God, she couldn't even think about the horrible possibilities as her stomach lurched, sending her running toward the bathroom.

After fully expelling the contents of her stomach and splashing cold water on her face to collect herself, she checked her watch only to see that she only had about four hours to come up with a plan before her midnight deadline.

She quickly ran through her mental list of ongoing investigations, drawing a blank on who could be behind Beth's kidnapping before finally finding the common sense to call her friend Logan Alexander at the State Department.

She and Logan had first met during the summer after their freshman year of college while interning at the US Defense Intelligence Agency, the two of them bonding right from the start. Quinn even introduced him to his wife. In fact, not long after Quinn got her job at the State Department, Logan followed suit, joining her small team as the computer and forensics wiz. He graduated early and at the top of his class at MIT and he definitely knew his stuff, the man working on decoding and analyzing crucial communications from the various terrorist cells and criminal organizations they had been tracking for the past four years. Plus, he and his wife had two little kids of their own and she knew he would sympathize, not only as a colleague and a friend but as a parent too. And he may be the best asset she had while trying to figure this all out.

She scrambled to find her cell phone, dialing the familiar number as she paced through the shattered mess on her kitchen floor.

"Hey Quinn," Logan's chipper voice answered on the other end of the line, "We're just getting ready to put the munchkins down for the night. Can I call you –"

"She's gone, Logan," she exclaimed, cutting him off, "I don't – I can't – Oh God."

"Ok, calm down. Just take a deep breath, ok?"

"I can't! She's gone!"

"Who is gone? Is this about Beth?" he asked, trying to remain as calm as possible to counter Quinn's panicking, "You and I talked about this. She's a teenager and she's going through a bit of a phase right now. She'll be back, don't worry."

"No! You don't understand!" she cried, "I came home and my house - Someone broke in. Everything is smashed. And she's gone!" Another sob escaped her throat before she was finally able to choke out the rest, "Someone took her. They left a note."

After a few silent moments, the weight of Quinn's situation finally sunk in, Logan swallowing hard before proceeding gently, "Ok, listen, we're going to get her back. I promise you. I need you to calm down first and tell me everything."

Quinn took a few deep breaths and began to recount what she saw when she arrived home, from the moment she stepped through the door to finding the note from Beth's captors, all the while trying not to break down or get sick again at the thought of these people doing whatever they wanted with her teenage daughter.

Once she was finished, she heard Logan take a deep breath, exhaling slowly before speaking once again, "Wow, Quinn, I uh – I don't know what to say. I am so sorry but I promise you I and the team will do whatever it takes to get her back. I swear."

"Thank you, I appreciate it."

"First things first, have you contacted the police?"

"No, you were my first call," Quinn explained, her mind finally switching over from terrified parent to problem solver, "I only have about four hours to figure out what to do before their deadline and the police would take at least that long just to look over the scene." She sighed, her heart breaking yet again at the thought that their family home had now become a crime scene.

"Good thinking. One of our teams could do a sweep quicker anyway," Logan replied before quickly moving on, "So this letter they left, any ideas as to who it could be? What did it say again?"

"I actually snapped a picture of it and it should be in your inbox," she offered, booting up her laptop and scrolling through her current case files. "Look, I don't know if it's somebody we already know of or a new player in the game but they seem to think that I have something of theirs and I have no clue what that could be."

"Thanks for the pic but the style and tone of the letter is not raising any flags in the system," he explained, the sound of the keys on his laptop clicking away as he sifted through the State Department's databases. "Maybe a few of our guys can come sweep your place to see if they left any trace or fingerprints. From the looks of your house, I'd say they would have had to have slipped up somewhere. Plus, knowing Beth, she wouldn't have gone without a fight," he added with a chuckle, the sound quickly dying in his throat as he tried to disguise it as a cough, "Sorry."

"No, you're right," Quinn replied softly, knowing her daughter wouldn't have gone voluntarily. "Hang on a second," she added, making her way out of the kitchen and taking the stairs two at a time as she rounded the corner into Beth's bedroom.

She allowed herself to take a good look at the destruction, the bed and floor littered with papers and books that appeared to be Beth's homework. It was obvious Beth had been in her room when they came as that was the only door that looked like it had sustained some damage from somebody trying to use either their shoulder or a boot to gain access. Sure enough, Quinn spotted Puck's old baseball bat flung against the far wall, a good distance from where Beth usually kept it next to her bed.

Quinn tip-toed through the debris to where it lay before picking it up and examining it, noting the fresh blood streaked down the barrel of the bat.

_She had fought back, _Quinn thought, pride swelling in her heart at the thought that her daughter didn't go quietly.

She glanced around the bed and floor, and there it was, a few drops of red here and there as well as a smudge on the wall near the door frame. While she was glad Beth had fought back, the sight of the blood trail across the carpet made her heart hammer in her chest, knowing that all she could do was hope and pray that it wasn't her daughter's blood…

And if it was, she was going to personally see to it that whoever did this to their family would pay dearly.

"I found some blood in Beth's room so there's bound to be more," she explained quickly, "I'm gonna need a team here ASAP. I want to know who these fuckers are."

"I'll get right on it. I know of a few guys who we can trust. They'll be over shortly," Logan offered, "And so will I."

"Logan, you don't have to do that. I don't want to take you away from your family."

"You're practically part of the family, Quinn. And so is Beth. We need to figure out who they are, what they want and plan the next move before midnight."

"Thank you," Quinn whispered, "And tell Katie I'm sorry for disrupting your night."

"She totally understands. In fact, she's practically shooing me out the door as we speak," Logan explained, earning a small smile from Quinn, the sight of Logan's feisty wife easy to imagine as she continued to pace around Beth's room. "I'll see you soon."

Quinn disconnected the call and plopped down on Beth's bed, staring around at the wreckage of her daughter's room. She picked up the light blue stuffed lamb wedged against the headboard, inhaling its gentle scent as the memory of giving this very lamb to Beth flooded her mind. She and Shelby may not have seen eye to eye when Beth first came back into her and Puck's lives their senior year of high school, but even then Quinn wanted to give something special to her little girl. When she and Puck finally got to see their daughter again after the custody hearing three years later, her heart swelled to see Beth clutching the very lamb she had given her, Quinn sending up a silent thank you to Shelby for passing along her gift. And it had remained a permanent fixture on Beth's bed ever since.

A knock on the front door downstairs brought her out of her brief reverie, Quinn stowing her phone in her pocket before drawing her handgun and stealthily making her way down the stairs. She stole a peek out the front window, confirming the presence of four of her most trusted co-workers and friends before she secured her weapon and opened the door, welcoming the group into her home.

Attorney and forensics expert Sarah McManus stepped through the door first, engulfing Quinn in a giant hug as she offered her friend her support. Logan followed Sarah into the front entry way, the two of them trailed by Chad Mitchell and Hunter Scott, the latter two former Navy SEALs and expert tacticians. Both men had proven to be assets when analyzing the methods and patterns of the various fundamentalist groups and drug cartels the State Department had taken an interest in over the years and could be incredibly helpful in figuring out who could be behind all of this.

They all stood around awkwardly for a few minutes, nobody knowing just what to say or where to start, the weight of the situation fully hitting every person as they surveyed the destruction.

"Holy shit, you weren't lying when you said they did a number on Quinn's place," Chad murmured to Logan, breaking the tense silence.

"Yeah, they um – it's a lot to take in," Quinn replied before taking a deep breath, "I want to thank you all for coming on such short notice. I just – I don't know what to do."

"We're happy to help in any way we can. You'd do the same for us," Hunter remarked before readjusting his gear bag on his shoulder, "Well, I don't mean to sound insensitive or anything, but from what I understand we're operating under a pretty tight deadline here. Any idea as to where we should start or what we're looking for, Boss?"

"I don't have a clue what they're looking for. I have the letter they left in the kitchen, but all they said is that I took something from them and they want it back, but I don't know what that 'something' is," Quinn explained, "As for a good starting place, I'd suggest Beth's bedroom. It appears as though somebody got hit by a baseball bat and left a trail of blood leading out into the hallway, and I'm praying it wasn't Beth."

"I'm on it," Sarah replied, grabbing her own gear back and heading up the stairs. Chad nodded at the group before he followed suit and took the stairs two at a time.

"So, that leaves us with the hard part," Hunter interjected, "Figuring out what in the hell they were looking for."

x-x-x-x-x-x

Sarah and Chad had canvassed the entire house within a two hour span of time, the duo having collected multiple blood and fingerprint samples. Quinn was partially relieved to hear that most of the samples they collected were from two other sources…but they had found trace amounts of Beth's blood as well. She tried to console herself by saying that at least Beth put up a hell of a fight against not one, but two goons, but it wasn't enough to cure the massive pit in her stomach.

Definitely not enough to stop her heart from pounding or the nauseating feeling to return as soon as she heard the names of the two other people whose blood samples they collected and the team was able to identify who those people worked for.

And it wasn't looking good, especially since it appeared as though one of the players was a very well known and well financed drug cartel from South America while the other player was an equally well financed and highly dangerous terrorist group from the Middle East.

Her head was swimming as she tried to connect the dots between the two groups and herself but nothing was coming to her. She could faintly register the other four people in the room discussing the connections and their options but she had totally zoned out, her entire body numb after discovering who had taken her little girl. What the hell was she going to do?

As the clock neared eleven, the five of them had yet to formulate a solid plan without having to involve outside law enforcement. Sarah had suggested calling the police and emphasizing the urgency of the situation but pulling up to the drop spot with the blue and red lights flashing could make matters a million times worse. Beth was expendable to them and they probably wouldn't hesitate to take her out if things went south. Hunt offered to call up some former special forces guys he knew to help but Quinn declined, not wanting to put anyone else's lives in danger if it wasn't necessary.

Fact of the matter was, they didn't know the terrain, they were far too unprepared and they were probably out-manned and out-gunned.

The reality and futility of her situation had started to sink in and she felt more hopeless and helpless than ever, especially when her gut was telling her that the only thing to do at this point was to go against her better instincts and give into the kidnappers. Throughout all of her training and subsequent career the State Department had drilled it into her that the United States Government never negotiated with terrorists…but this was her daughter and she'd be damned if she let something happen to Beth.

She finally got to the point where she'd had enough.

She couldn't think of a damn thing they wanted from her. The State Department had only been surveilling those groups but she didn't have anything in her possession that they could possibly want.

But time was up.

She was done.

Against the advice and warnings of the rest of her team, Quinn transferred a substantial amount of money into her bank account. They never asked for a ransom and she didn't even know if they wanted one, but it was all she could think to do at this point and was fully prepared to pay them or give them whatever they wanted as long as she could keep Beth safe. She armed herself accordingly and agreed to Logan's request to wear a GPS microchip and microphone just in case.

Once she was as ready as she was going to get, she turned back around and made each of her co-workers promise not to follow her or call the police unless she gave the predetermined call sign over the radio.

She couldn't risk involving others. She couldn't risk someone else screwing this up. If this went south, it would be on her. She had to do this alone.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Less than ten minutes later, Quinn was back behind the wheel of her Jeep SUV heading southeast on the Beltway.

She couldn't quite believe how drastically her day had gone from ok to absolute shit in a matter of mere hours. These men were asking for something Quinn couldn't give them and all she could hope was that they would either take her offer of the money or they'd be stupid and would slip up in some manner and she'd be able to take a few down in the process of rescuing her daughter… an unlikely theory considering who she was dealing with, but she had to remain optimistic. She couldn't allow herself to be negative. This was her daughter's life she was dealing with and she owed it to her little girl to do whatever she could to rescue her and keep her safe.

God, she wished Puck were here. He may not have known exactly what to do either, but at least he wasn't afraid of the unknown danger that waited for her. It was part of his job in the military to improvise and charge into dangerous situations like this…and that's what had gotten him killed.

But she was just one woman going up against Lord knows how many armed men and she was terrified.

Granted, she was fully capable of defending herself, but throwing her daughter into that equation added to the danger and complexity of the situation.

She swallowed hard as she tried to calm herself, recalling the extensive training she received throughout her career up until this point.

_It had been a long five months at the small government training facility in central Virginia. Some agencies called it "The Farm" while others referred to it as "boot camp." Either way, it had been an intense crash course on everything a federal agent could ever need: self-defense, boxing, small-explosives, marksmanship with an array of different guns, evasion and escape… the works. As tough as it had been, Quinn had really enjoyed the challenge._

_But she also really missed her little girl and was excited to get back to her family. It was hard being away for such a long time, especially since she had to leave for the program shortly after she and Puck had finally gotten married. She barely had time to enjoy her husband and her honeymoon before leaving once again. She had been able to see him and Beth on the random weekend here and there, but she was in desperate need to get back home and resume being a wife and a mom and living the boring suburban life she had strangely always desired. _

_Her homecoming was everything she dreamed of and more. Her daughter was over the moon to see her mom and Puck definitely gave her a welcome home in his own special way…a few times. However, once she started her job again and got back into the swing of things, she started missing the adrenaline rush she got while working with the other agents at the training academy. She tried to keep it up by attending kick-boxing classes at the gym they went to but it just wasn't quite the same. _

_Puck had known she missed it at times and wanted to do something special for his wife, blindfolding her after dinner one night after Beth had gone to bed. He led her down the stairs to their basement "man cave" as Puck called it before removing the blindfold, revealing a small home gym, moving his weights and boxing bag out of the garage and setting up a fun little space for the two of them work out and train together…even though Puck was the probably the only one who would ever use the type of training they taught at the academy and in the military._

_Quinn loved the space, the two of them making time to utilize it almost every day. She often went down there to run on the treadmill and box with the bag, the source a great release from the stress she often felt, especially during the first few years trying to juggle her career and being a mom. _

_She could remember how Puck used to join her every once in a while after they had put Beth down for the night, one holding the bag for the other or the two even sparring occasionally. He would goad her along, the two exchanging playful blows back and forth before Puck would usually try to overpower her. But Quinn was too fast, flipping him onto his back before straddling him and trapping him with her arm across his neck, Puck grinning back up at his wife as she let go. That usually led Puck reaching up and grasping her by the back of her neck before pulling her down into a sizzling kiss…and usually, when that happened, clothes tended to be lost along the way as the two of them took turns pinning each other to the mats and enjoying their time alone. _

The buzzing of her cell phone snapped her out of her reverie, Quinn sighing heavily at the onslaught of memories before answering.

"This is Quinn."

"Hey, it's Logan," came the voice over the line, "So we ran each of the men whose blood samples you found and cross referenced them with both the people they are associated with and possible locations in D.C., and more specifically near the National Harbor. We picked up a medium-sized vessel registered to an unknown corporation out of Barranquilla, Colombia with a destination plan to Tartus, Syria. It seems to fit the Modus Operandi of each group better than any other alternative we could find."

"That's it?" Quinn asked, a little shocked that was the only link to either group they may be dealing with. It was a lead, which is more than she could hope for, and it made sense, since they wouldn't be stupid enough to try and fly out of D.C. She just wondered what they were planning on doing with a ship and how it got into the National Harbor.

Ever since September 11, the United States government had tightened down on all incoming and outgoing modes of transportation, especially in and out of the nation's capital. How these men got a ship into the National Harbor just south of Bolling Air Force Base and less than 10 miles from the Capitol was beyond her.

Were they transporting something or bringing something in? Or worse, were they planning on using something against the United States and it was on that ship? Should she be calling her friends over at the FBI and Homeland Security?

And those thoughts right there made Quinn want to smack herself.

Once again, she snapped into "government agent" mode instead of focusing on the real reason she was headed in that direction… her daughter!

"That's … disconcerting," Quinn relayed, pulling off the highway and turning down the frontage road toward the National Harbor, "Where is the boat docked?"

"Well, that's the strange thing," Logan replied, "You know that area is mostly tourist attractions and small private boats."

"Yeah, and?"

"The boat is docked at the far south point, in one of the old industrial slips. There are a few abandoned warehouses in the area, but the boat is docked in slip number 3. Best guess, they're in the old Potomac Fishery warehouse, but there's no way to be sure since they left no other instructions as to where to meet them."

"Good to know," Quinn replied, "Once I find something, I'll let you know."

"Keep in constant contact, Quinn. I mean it," Logan warned, "Turn on the mic as soon as you get there."

"Will do. Thanks," she offered before shutting her phone off and following the road toward the south end of the harbor.

As she neared the location Logan relayed over the phone, Quinn had to hand it to these assholes. They were ballsy considering how close to a plethora of government agencies and military bases they chose to dock their boat. Stupid, but ballsy.

Once she rounded the corner, she spotted three black SUVs sitting outside of the fishery, the brand new vehicles sticking out like sore thumbs among the overgrowth and dilapidated outbuildings. Quinn switched on the microchip in her phone and sent out a quick message to Logan and the team that she had found something before placing the earpiece in her ear and parking the car.

She checked her main weapon and her ankle holster first before stowing an extra sidearm in her shoulder holster. Pulling on her suit jacket, she a deep breath before grasping her main weapon and stepping out of the vehicle, sending up a hope and a prayer that she could do something to get her daughter out of there safely even if she herself didn't end up making it out of there alive.

She kept reciting her own personal mantra over and over in her head as she mentally prepared herself for what she may be walking into, the words becoming her strength as she repeated them over and over.

This was her daughter.

This was about keeping Beth safe.

And come hell or high water, she would stop at nothing to get her daughter back.


	3. Three

**A/N: **_I feel like I'm starting to sound like a broken record when I say sorry for the delay but life has a crazy way of getting in the way sometimes. But I do promise that the next chapter of Our Best Friend's Wedding is coming out soon and hopefully I'll have another chapter for this thereafter. Thanks again for sticking with my story and for all the interest, and thanks for everyone for reading, subscribing and favoriting this story! Big thanks to __**RAGML, randomly-hyper8771, Shananigan, fabreasy, Sux2budude, Msjanelle32, olacindy, Perfectly-imperfect-447, Destroyer of Nations, LocalXmusicXjellybeanx, QuickFan, FinchelQuick34 and Ellii51 for your reviews!**__ All of my readers are so awesome and I hope you continue to enjoy where this is going! I promise it will be worth it!_

* * *

**THREE**

_This was her daughter._

This was about keeping Beth safe.

_And come hell or high water, she would stop at nothing to get her daughter back._

x-x-x-x-x

Quinn ran her thumb along the ridges on the grip of the gun in her hand, patting at the secondary weapon she had stowed under her jacket to make sure it was secured and concealed before taking another deep breath and cautiously making her way toward the entrance to the warehouse.

She slipped through the front door and immediately backed against the wall, scanning the area for immediate dangers before continuing on, constantly sweeping the area with her weapon for danger. The muffled sound of voices helped guide her through the dark corridor as she took slow, evenly-paced steps toward the end of the hallway.

When she saw that it opened up into the spacious inner room of the warehouse, she paused briefly, wondering if she should really walk into an unknown situation by herself. Her head was pounding and her stomach was queasy, this scenario feeling like a suicide mission. She didn't know what lie ahead of her in that room. She had no idea how many men there were or what kinds of weapons they had. And while she had pretty good aim, she could certainly be surrounded from the moment she stepped foot in that room. Hell, she could be surrounded at that very moment.

A loud smacking noise of flesh meeting flesh resounded through the hallway followed by a small feminine yelp from the next room immediately pulled Quinn out of her thoughts. Yes, she was probably surrounded and yes she was probably outmanned and out gunned, but that was her daughter in there. And she needed to help Beth.

She took a deep breath and made sure her weapons were locked and loaded before sneaking along the wall into the large open room. She followed the voices as they got louder and louder, swallowing hard as she saw the wall that was providing cover was coming to an end. Fear coursed through her body as she took a look around up at the rafters and the catwalks near the ceiling of the building, sending up a silent 'thank you' as she noticed there were no additional men posing a threat from above.

She checked the time on her watch and noticed it was getting close to her midnight, a male voice confirming said observation in a South American Spanish dialect. For the first time in her life and career, Quinn felt thankful for all of the years of Spanish she took throughout high school and college as her knowledge of the language could be extremely helpful in understanding what these men may be saying if they try to use their own language. However, the knowledge that her team may have been correct in the assessment that one of the particular players in this situation happened to be the Escobar cartel chilled her to the bone. The Spanish was a give-away that it could be who they thought it was, but the Escobars were known to be ruthless mercenaries and that definitely didn't make Quinn feel any better knowing they were somehow involved with her daughter's abduction.

After another deep breath and a few more seconds collecting herself, she stepped away from the wall and rounded the corner. Immediately she scanned the area, trying to remember the things Puck had taught her about surveying a scene like that. Her eyes swept the expanse of the room, taking note of seven men of various nationalities. Four had facial hair, all stood between the heights of 5'9" and 6'2" and only one of which appeared to be slightly overweight.

However, the fair-skinned, blonde teenager stood out in stark contrast to the men she was wedged between, Quinn's eyes locking onto her daughter's as Beth let out another yelp at the sight of her mother. Tears streamed down the teen's face as the man standing next to her tightened his grip on her arm, the angry red outline of a handprint on her cheek making Quinn's stomach clench at the realization that these bastards harmed her little girl.

At the sound of Beth's cry, the men whipped their heads toward Quinn's location, a visible scowl on several of their faces.

"Who the fuck are you?" one of the men yelled out, his Spanish accent thick as he spoke, "Drop your weapon!"

Quinn heard the patter of footsteps as she chanced a glance behind her, cringing as another three men filed in behind her, each of them armed with military grade assault rifles. She slowly turned back around and noted that the other seven men were armed as well, one man even holding a gun to her daughter's head as they all stood waiting for Quinn's answer.

She knew she was probably pushing it, but just the fact that they had the balls to hold her daughter at gunpoint made her blood boil.

"Better question, who the fuck are you?"

"If you don't know by now, you have no idea what you're dealing with. You're in over your head, _mi belleza_," the man in the middle said, his accent thick as he finally turned to face Quinn.

She recognized him the second he turned around: Luis Escobar. Relative to the deceased Pablo Escobar, who was once the wealthiest and most powerful man in the international drug trade, leader of the resurgence of the Escobar cartel, and one of the most ruthless and notoriously brutal men in South America.

Her heart pounded as she glanced over at her daughter, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time as she steeled her own nerves, "No, I don't think you know what you're dealing with, Mr… I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"As I said, if you don't already know who I am, you have no business being here!"

"I just came to get my daughter back," Quinn offered, deciding it may be better to back off a little bit.

Escobar slyly glanced at Beth, the man licking his lips in a suggestive manner, Quinn wanting to vomit as he looked her daughter up and down, "So, this is your little girl? You're a Puckerman too, huh?"

"Yes, and I have money. I'm willing to pay you whatever to get her back."

"Your money is worthless to me," Escobar spat, turning his attention back to Quinn, "If this is your daughter, you know what I want and you know what will happen if you don't hand it over."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Quinn explained, her heart dropping as she watched the scum behind Beth tighten his hold on her hair, the girl wincing and her eyes watering as she continued to hold her mother's gaze.

"With all due respect, you have no room to bargain here. So I'd suggest you stop playing games and hand the discs over. Now!"

"What discs?" Quinn asked, confused beyond belief at their demand, "I don't know of or have any discs."

"Stop playing dumb with me, _puta_, or she'll pay!" Escobar shouted.

Quinn's heart began to race and she felt the panic begin to rise as she watched Beth's eyes grow large, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about but if you harm one hair on her head, I swear I will hunt you all down and make you pay."

"Cute and feisty, just how I like them. I'd be willing to bet that your daughter has the same amount of spiciness too," he got close to Beth, the blonde whimpering as he ran his fingers down her tear stained cheek, "I wonder if she'd be just as much of a hellcat in bed as she was toward Maurico and Talib," he said, pointing out two men with visible cuts and swelling on their faces, the handiwork of a particular baseball bat and a set of claw-like nails. "But even for a bright girl like yourself, you don't seem to understand the concept here. Those discs are worth quite a bit of money. My money. So, you can either hand them over or your daughter will pay the debt instead."

He drew a knife and held it up for Quinn to see, the faint light shining off the blade as he held it up near Beth's throat. "And she's so pretty too. I think I could get a pretty good price for her. What do you think, Khalid? It'd be a shame to kill you both, so why not make back my investment with this little peach?"

Quinn flinched as her daughter started to whimper. This was not happening right now. She'd die before she let them take her daughter to "make back their investment." Just the sound of that threat made her sick to her stomach.

If this rescue attempt went awry, they wouldn't kill her daughter. They'd sell her into sexual slavery. Pump her up on drugs so she couldn't run and prostitute her out like a common whore in some third world country. Quinn had heard the rumors and knew the practice still existed, girls entering that type of lifestyle simply disappearing off of the face of the earth, but it never really seemed real until this very moment. The thought of her daughter being sold to some brothel somewhere in the world made her stomach heave. She wanted to vomit, knowing that somehow her dedication to her career had put her daughter in this position.

She thought back to a conversation she had with Beth a few months back, the memory washing over her momentarily as she savored the little bits of mother-daughter time they had actually spent together when Quinn wasn't working.

_The view was definitely not what she wanted to see when she arrived home from work that afternoon: her daughter straddling some young man on their living room sofa, the two of them making out like there was no tomorrow. Wasn't it important to come up for air at some point?_

_It took her clearing her throat loudly behind the couple for them to finally break apart, Beth quickly pulling away from the boy and the two separating and sliding away from each other within a matter of seconds._

"_Shit," her daughter murmured, offering her mother a sheepish look._

_Quinn arched her eyebrow at both of the high schoolers before settling her gaze on her daughter as she watched Beth turn a bright shade of pink, "Shit is right."_

"_Mrs. Puckerman," the young man stammered, quickly standing and extending his hand, "I'm uh – I'm Nick. Nick Parks."_

"_Nick eh? So I take it you and Beth are an item?"_

"_Mom!" Beth groaned, her eyes practically pleading with Quinn. _

"_What?" Quinn asked, looking between the two teens, "I think it's a valid question when I walk in and see my sixteen year old daughter making out with a young man who I have yet to meet."_

"_Well, you just met him," Beth answered, the young girl getting even more bold as she stared at her mom, "He actually introduced himself to you, which is more than you can say at this point."_

_Quinn stared her daughter down for a few more moments, a bit perturbed at her attitude before glancing back at the young man, "Nick, it's nice to meet you. I'm Quinn, Beth's mom."_

"_It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Puckerman," the young man replied, shaking her hand, "And yes, Beth and I are dating – you know, to answer your question."_

_She glanced between the two kids, the young man looking absolutely terrified as Quinn took her time assessing the situation, "I'm glad to hear it. You seem like a good kid, Nick. I would just appreciate if you two, you know…kept the more physical stuff to yourselves...and off of the living room couch where I sit every night."_

"_Mom! Seriously?!"_

"_Look, you're both sixteen and I know what it's like to be sixteen and have a boyfriend. Just as long as you're safe when you two, you know…get physical."_

"_Oh my God, mom! Stop!" Beth squealed, covering her eyes._

_Nick looked just as embarrassed, his face bright red as he shook his head vigorously before quietly excusing himself, wishing Beth a good night before quickly escaping out of the front door._

"_Did you really have to do that?" Beth asked, looking back up at her mom. _

"_You mean, did I have to walk in and witness my daughter straddling her boyfriend on my living room couch?"_

"_No, not that! Did you have to go all sex-ed on him just now?"_

"_Do you need me to repeat my last statement, Beth?" Quinn asked, taking a seat on the couch next to her daughter, "Honestly, what am I supposed to think or say when I walk in and see that? What am I supposed to do when my little girl is straddling a boy, who I have yet to meet until tonight might I add, and sucking his face? You were practically riding a young man who you didn't even see fit to tell me that you were dating!"_

"_Because I knew you would react like this!" Beth exclaimed, "Nick is a good guy and I didn't want you scaring him away! But I guess it's too late now. You saw the look on his face on the way out, I'd be shocked if he even talked to me again!"_

_Quinn understood what she was saying but she still needed to get a very important point across to her daughter. Her own parents had tried to use bible verses and threats against her but she felt a different approach may work better this time around. _

"_Look sweetheart, I'm sorry I embarrassed you in front of your boyfriend; however, I'm not sorry about what I said. I'm disappointed that you hadn't even mentioned that you were seeing this boy and I'm even more disappointed that you chose to take advantage of me being at work to bring him over here," Quinn explained, swallowing hard in the process, "I know that your father and my rules may not sound very fair and that you may not like them, but we made them for a reason."_

_Quinn took a deep breath and exhaled, giving her daughter a tight smile, "Your father and I had you when we were sixteen. Granted, we did care about each other very much, but everything involved with –making you – was very intense. It changed everything. You were such a blessing and we loved you so much but it was a lot to take in. I don't want you to think we regret having you or that you weren't the best thing that ever happened to us, but I just want you to be aware of the risks involved when you decide to…get intimate with someone."_

_Beth took a few moments to absorb what Quinn had just said, quietly taking a moment to think before licking her lips, "You uh – you don't have to worry about that."_

"_Worry about what?"_

"_That… Nick and I haven't – I mean, I've never…" Beth stammered, glancing down at the throw pillow nestled in her lap._

"_Oh," Quinn's brow scrunched in confusion before the realization finally hit her, "OH!"_

"_Yeah, and I'm not exactly planning on – you know – anytime soon either. Just so you know," Beth finished quietly. _

_Quinn could only nod as she took in the information. She had never asked Beth point blank about her relationships or sex life, but the knowledge that her little girl was still pure made Quinn's heart skip a beat, knowing her daughter had taken heed of her and Puck's warnings in the past. She smiled back at Beth, caressing the young girls cheek gently as she spoke, "I'm very proud of you, Bee. Always remember that."_

_Her daughter gave her a sheepish smile in return, the two girls leaving it at that as the set about preparing dinner for the evening._

Beth was still a virgin, still pure as the day she was born, and the thought that these fuckers would exploit that, would exploit her daughter for their own financial gain absolutely incensed Quinn. She'd die before letting them touch her little girl like that.

The sounds of footsteps broke her out of her momentary reverie, the noises coming from all directions around her. She could feel the men behind her creeping up, Quinn trying to let her erratic, panicked breathing even out as she tried to place just where the men were. If she needed to make a move, she would need to act quickly and accurately.

Quinn glanced back up at the men in front of her, taking inventory of all the weapons they had on them as well, finally coming to the full realization of the reality she was facing. And it wasn't looking good.

She took a deep breath and swallowed hard, her right hand absentmindedly rubbing her queasy stomach, hoping they wouldn't notice her reaching for her second weapon if she needed to. She quickly glanced at Beth, watching as silent tears rolled down her daughter's cheeks.

Her gut clenched and she felt absolutely sick seeing her daughter being manhandled by these assholes, all of the fight draining from her body as she watched the terror on Beth's face as the man behind her tightened his grip on her hair.

"Beth, sweetheart, I love you so much," Quinn choked out, her own eyes watering as she focused on her helpless daughter, "I love you, baby. No matter what happens, know that I will always come for you and that I will always love you."

"Mom," Beth sobbed, her voice lost as she mouthed the words 'I love you, too' back at Quinn.

"As touching as this is, it's a waste of my time," Luis said, raising his gun toward Quinn and placing a grimy kiss on Beth's cheek, "Tell your mother good bye."

"Mommy," Beth whined out again, sounding like the terrified five year old girl who was afraid of the dark and thunderstorms when she first moved in with Quinn, the panic and sadness helplessness in her voice boring a hole through Quinn's soul, "I love you, mom!"

"Stay strong and everything will be ok, Beth," Quinn said, her voice cracking with emotion, "I love you and—"

**– _CRACK, CRACK, CRACK—_**

The sound of gunfire cut her off and three bodies hit the floor shortly thereafter. All at once, it seemed as though time was moving in slow motion, Quinn hearing her own heartbeat pounding in her ears as she kept her gaze trained on her daughter, hoping and praying she was still ok.

The other four men standing in front of her immediately went into defensive positions as well, scanning the room for where the shots came from while Quinn took the opportunity and crouched low into her own defensive position, reaching for her own gun and pulling her secondary weapon from her shoulder holster.

She watched another body fall before realizing this was her chance, remaining low and spinning around on her heel, firing off two quick rounds at the nearest man behind her. His body hit the ground before he even had a chance to raise his weapon. The other two took cover behind a brick alcove, firing off random rounds in her direction as she made a split second decision and somersaulted over her shoulder, diving toward a nearby interior brick wall and popping back up to her feet, her evasive move proving to be a wise one as the erratic spray of gunfire peppered the area where she had just stood.

Quinn held her crouched position, back against the wall as she continued to aim one weapon at the wall behind which two of the goons were hiding while her primary weapon remained trained on the men attempting to take cover and drag her daughter out of the building.

Something inside of her snapped. She couldn't let them take Beth. Amidst the gunfire from both directions and an unknown source from above, Quinn scanned her surroundings before making a run for it, straight in the direction of her daughter.

But she acted too soon…

A small canister landed a few feet in front of her as she ran toward Beth.

She tried to dive to her right but it was no use as the flash bang grenade detonated, sending her flying through the air.

She hit the floor hard, taking a few seconds to try and catch her breath and get her bearings back as she choked on the heavy smoke, coughing hard. Her entire body ached, her ears were ringing and all of her senses were completely disoriented as she struggled to her feet and limped toward the door the men and Beth disappeared out of.

Quinn glanced behind her, only able to register the flash of gunfire still firing behind her as she continued to stumble toward the door and out into the night, yelling out her daughter's name as she went.

She could hear her daughter screaming for her as a boat engine started up in the distance, but the smoke surrounding her was so thick that she could barely make out the outline of the men dragging Beth down the dock and loading her into the boat.

Quinn raised her weapon and took aim as best as she could given her watering eyes and failing equilibrium before popping off a few rounds. She missed low, hitting the side of the boat instead as the engines roared to life.

She heard Beth scream for her once more as she continued to stagger out of the building, weapon raised as she fired off a few more round. But her aim was too erratic and she didn't want to risk hitting her daughter in the crossfire, Quinn lowering her weapon as guilt and defeat washed over her.

"I WILL FIND YOU, BETH," Quinn screamed, "I PROMISE YOU!"

She felt the hot tears welling in her eyes as she watched the boat speed off toward the mouth of the harbor, her daughter's arms flailing and her mouth screaming wordlessly as the men continued to restrain her. Quinn wanted to scream and cry and swim after the damn boat but she knew it would be futile. Pure hatred coursed through her veins as she watched the boat turn the corner.

This sure as hell wasn't over!

"Logan, do you copy?" she squawked into the tiny radio microphone. However, she heard nothing in return, the blast of the flash bang having knocked out her ear piece mid-fall. "Look, if you can hear me, there is a boat leaving the main harbor. They still have Beth. Track it. I wanna know their next move before they do. I don't care what networks we have to use or what we have to do, find that boat!"

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down as she planned her next move. She holstered one of her weapons before patting the other holster, panic setting in as she realized she had no idea where her secondary weapon was.

Still fairly disoriented, Quinn made her way back up toward the warehouse, cautiously scanning the area for any sight of danger. The gunfire had ceased but she knew the danger was far from over. She knew there was probably at least one survivor inside, possibly more, but she had to brave the smoke and peril to get back inside.

The flash bang had sent her flying, the company weapon registered to her had fallen to the side and she couldn't risk someone from either of those groups getting a hold of it and using it for any reasons. Luckily, she had been near the door when the grenade went off so she was hoping it would be easy enough to find.

As stealthy as possible, she slinked through the doorway and crouched low, her hand silently grasping along the floor for the cool, metal object.

She tried to remain as silent as possible but the sound of a footstep near her location had her freezing in her tracks, Quinn trying desperately to control her breathing and remain as silent as possible as she raised her gun and glanced around the smoky area.

Another footstep neared her location, and then another, the sound echoing softly against the walls surrounding her, confusing her as to which direction they may be coming from.

She could barely see through the smoke filtering through the open doorway and the visibility in the warehouse wasn't much better, but the dust was finally starting to settle.

She held steady, her weapon raised as she waited for owner of the footsteps to come into view.

Her body was on high alert, the hairs on the back of her neck standing straight up as she felt more terrified than she ever had in her entire life. This could be it. It could be all over here in a matter of seconds all because she was stupid and went back for her gun.

Just as she was about to take another step toward the doorway, she felt the brush of foreign fabric against her leg, her body jolting at the surprise sensation.

She whipped her body around, held her weapon steady and took aim at the perpetrator, only to find herself staring down the barrel of a gun. A Sig Saur .45, no less. At least they had good taste in weapons, she thought humorlessly.

She was waiting for that moment where her whole life was supposed to flash before her eyes, but it never came. She knew she fucked up this time. She screwed up again. She should have taken the shot when she had it.

But something about the whole thing felt odd.

He had her in his cross hairs. He had the perfect shot…so why hadn't he taken it yet?

She held steady, her gaze trained on his weapon momentarily before her eyes began to wander up toward the face of the owner of the gun that was currently pointed at her head.

However, the warm chocolate pools that met her stare had her reeling, the knot in her stomach tightening as the man's face began to come into focus.

Her eyes grew wide as she stared down at the other person on the other end of the weapon.

No….

It couldn't be…

There was no way!

"Puck?"

* * *

_Ah, shit! It's about to get interesting..._


	4. Four

**A/N: ** _Sorry to leave you hanging on such a cliffhanger for so long! But I won't keep you hanging for much longer! A thank you shout out to all of the readers, subscribers and favorites I've received on this story! I really appreciate you sticking with this 'ship and this story! And a big thank you to __**tomboy2012, littleredwritinggleek, guest (Charlie), Sux2beudude, Msjanelle32, olacindy, marine04, Gleekalwaysand4ever, FinchelQuick34, RAGML, Destroyer of Nations, fabreasy, Perfectly-Imperfect-447, and Ellii51**__ for your wonderful reviews! I've always been a little insecure about my writing so I always love hearing what people think of my stories, good, bad or constructive criticism. Thanks again!_

* * *

**FOUR**

_Her eyes grew wide as she stared down at the other person on the other end of the weapon._

_No…._

_It couldn't be…_

_There was no way!_

_"Puck?"_

x-x-x-x-x-x

"Puck?"

"Quinn," he replied slowly, his piercing gaze feeling like it was boring a hole right through her.

The man in front of her looked like her husband and his voice sounded like her husband's but he couldn't be her husband… her husband was dead.

Steeling her resolve, she clutched her gun a bit tighter and refocused her aim.

"Put down your weapon," she commanded, summoning all of the authority she could muster.

He gently shook his head as he continued to stare her down, "You know I can't do that."

"I will shoot you, I swear to God."

"Come on Quinn, let's just talk this out," he murmured, still not lowering his weapon, "It's me, your husband."

"My husband is dead," Quinn practically shouted, her emotions warring with her body as she began to tremble.

"No I'm not. I'm right here, Q."

"No you're not! Whatever game this is that you're playing, cut it out," she demanded, re-steadying her hands as her index finger found its way toward the trigger.

"Look Quinn, it's me," he replied calmly, as if the gun aimed at his head didn't even faze him, "I work for the C.I.A. now, ok. I'm on your side."

"Fuck you!"

"Alright, fine. I'll prove it to you," he soothed, gently pulling his gun back and releasing the hammer, effectively disarming his weapon before taking a deep breath, "Our daughter's name is Elizabeth Ann Corcoran Puckerman, she was born on June eighth and she's sixteen years old. We took over legal guardianship of her just before she turned five.

Hearing that shook her a little bit, but she knew this had to be some sort of trick.

This wasn't real.

She clenched her jaw tightly before practically speaking through her teeth, "You could have found that out through public records."

"Fair enough. Her blood type is B positive, just like yours," he continued without even skipping a beat, "She once got pneumonia when she was eight and spent two weeks in the children's hospital. You and I decided to take turns staying with her overnight but when it was my nights to stay, you refused to leave."

Quinn could remember those two weeks like it was yesterday. She and Puck had both been terrified at the sudden downturn in their child's health but her husband was the one who remained strong through it all, soothing their daughter when she was struggling to breathe and crying through all of the needles, treatments and exams all the while calming his distraught wife through the trying and stressful time.

But, while the comment struck a chord deep inside her chest, the little trip down memory lane still wasn't good enough, "Creepy, but explainable through medical records."

The man sighed and ran his hand over his head and down his neck, Quinn taking note of the action as it was one of Puck's habits when he was either nervous or getting frustrated. Finally, he looked back up at her and cocked his eyebrow in that infuriating way that always used to indicate to Quinn that he was pissed and was about to unload on her (and subsequently managed to turn her on every single time).

"Fine. You like to think we never met until freshman year of high school but I've always insisted that I've known you since we were six and were in daycare together. We got married on May 29th and we spent our honeymoon in the British Virgin Islands. You were terrified to get on the small eight seat plane that would take us from the main airport in St. Thomas to Virgin Gorda but I helped take your mind off of it… in my own special way. We made love twenty-six times that week and almost got in trouble for public indecency when the Coast Guard caught us going at it on the boat we rented on the third day but you were able to talk him out of it. Want me to continue?" he added sarcastically, not even waiting for Quinn to reply before continuing.

"I know that you love seafood, you're strangely allergic to celery, you craved bacon cheeseburgers and egg rolls when you were pregnant with Beth, and as much as you hate to admit, one of your favorite foods is peanut butter and pickle sandwiches. You like to say your favorite colors are pink and black, but I know your favorite color to wear is light blue and your favorite color to decorate with is green, and if I'm not mistaken, you recently painted the master bedroom of the house in that very hue," he rambled off quickly before his expression softened, "And I know that deep down, you know it's me and that I'm being honest but you're terrified to face the truth and reality that I really am here after the past three years."

It felt as though she'd been hit by a freight train, her chest aching as her pulse raced at an ungodly rate. She mulled it over in her head, knowing damn well that there was no other explanation as to how he knew all of that about her if the man standing in front of her wasn't Puck.

Her head felt like it was swimming as she tried to process everything he had said. He's alive? After three and a half years? And he's working for the C.I.A?

But… he was supposed to be dead.

They had grieved for his loss for the last three and a half years. Her relationship with her daughter had become somewhat strained as a result of his "death."

And now he was standing here making claims that made it sound like he had been keeping tabs on them for the last three and a half years too. What the fuck?

This was all too much to handle, Quinn suddenly feeling faint as her body sagged to her left. But Puck was one step ahead of her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he helped steady her, refusing to let go until she had regained her balance and coordination. He finally took a step back, keeping a close eye on her before quickly shooting a glance behind him, the movement not going unnoticed by Quinn as she finally disarmed her weapon and stowed it in its holster before picking her other gun up off of the floor and repeating the action.

"Ok, start explaining," she demanded, her breathing coming in heavy pants as her body worked to get her racing heartbeat back to normal, "What the fuck is going on?"

"I'll explain everything later. Right now, we have someone to talk to," he replied, signaling toward the rear of the building where Quinn had been taking cover behind the brick wall just minutes earlier.

He chanced one last glance in her direction before turning and making his way around the corner to where another man lay on the ground, his hands tied behind his back as he rolled around on the floor in pain.

Puck yanked him up into a sitting position and knelt down in front of him, pulling the dirty cloth out of the man's mouth before staring him down.

"Who do you work for and where are they taking my daughter?" he asked calmly, the man refusing to answer, instead grimacing and spitting at him.

Puck used his sleeve to wipe away the man's saliva before standing and pacing a few steps in front of him, "Ok listen, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way won't be so bad but trust me, you have no idea how brutal the hard way is going to be," he threatened, "It's totally your choice."

Quinn gawked in awe as she watched Puck size the man on the floor up, waiting patiently for him to answer. The way he moved around the man on the floor reminded her of a powerful jungle cat, dangerous and cunning as each and every move seemed methodically calculated.

"Fuck you," the man on the floor replied, his accent thick as he spoke. Judging from his skin tones and the influx of his voice, Quinn guessed he was either Syrian or Iraqi but without any additional information from the guy, she couldn't know for sure.

"Tisk, tisk," Puck chided, smirking down at the man before kicking him hard in the ribs, the man doubling over in pain, "You're just going to make this harder on yourself. Now, this could all be over with if you just tell me two simple things. Who you're working for and where they are taking our daughter."

"Go to hell," the man replied, spitting out a bit of blood as he tried to sit back up.

"Ok, you know what, let me break this down for you," Puck began, his eyes hardening and his jaw setting as he faced the man, "That little girl you and your friends kidnapped today is my daughter. She is our daughter," he began, signaling between himself and Quinn. "She is sixteen years old and she's our whole world. Do you have a daughter? Family?" he asked, cocking his head to the side as he watched for any kind of tell that he was getting to the man, "Because I will promise you this, if you do not help us and answer my questions, I will make sure I find out who you are and where your entire family lives, and if your friends so much as harm one hair on our daughter's head, I will make it my mission in life to hunt your family down and make them suffer. Do you understand?" he demanded, his eyes ice cold as continued to stare the man down.

The man tried to look away but Puck was too quick, grasping the man's ear and dragging his head back around to get his attention again, "I asked you a simple question, or do I need to use other methods to get you to talk?"

The man refused to meet Puck's eye once again, and while he was no longer throwing insults at Puck, the look in Puck's eyes slightly terrified Quinn. Her husband had always been a gentle, warm and caring man and while he always liked to think he was a badass, he was an absolute teddy bear when it came to his family. However, the man standing in front of her was the complete opposite of the man she used to know. He was hardened, cold and cunning, his eyes menacing as he stared at the man with absolute disgust.

Puck pulled his gun out of his waistband and waved it in front of the man's face, "Are you certain that you don't want to talk to me?" he asked once more, the man still not saying a word.

"Fine," he replied, raising his weapon and pulling the trigger.

The shot startled Quinn, her heart leaping in her chest as the man howled in pain. Blood began seeping out of the hole in the man's foot as Puck circled him once more before taking a closer look at his handiwork.

"Ouch, that looks like it hurts," he chided, before taking a closer look. "It'll heal, as will your other foot and both of your hands if you continue to evade my questions. Your kneecaps and spinal cord, however, will be a bit more difficult to repair. Now, do you want to try and answer my questions?" he asked, reaching out and gripping the man's injured foot tightly.

The man howled in pain once again, Quinn grimacing as she watched the exchange in front of her. Part of her knew what they were doing was wrong, but the other part of her knew that their time may be running out to find Beth in time and this man could hold some important information. She glanced away as Puck gripped the man's foot tighter, repeating his demand once again.

"Who do you work for and where are they taking our daughter?" Puck shouted in the man's face, his gaze boring into the man's. He held up his gun once more, "I will shoot you again."

"Puck?" Quinn began to plead, but the man's voice cut her off.

"Khalid al-Assad," the man cried out, "I work for Khalid al-Assad."

Simply hearing the name of one of the most wanted terrorists in the world caused Quinn's blood to run cold. First the Escobar cartel and now this? She had to force herself not to throw up as she began to process what it meant now that the two factions were working together.

However, it seemed like it barely fazed Puck, the man intently focused on his task at hand. "Good," he replied, "Now we're getting somewhere." He got up and circled the man twice before crouching back down and roughly grabbing the man's other foot, placing the barrel of his gun against the man's instep. "Where are they taking our daughter?" he asked, pulling the hammer back on his gun to show that he meant business.

"Turkey!" the man exclaimed, "Then Russia."

"What?" Quinn exclaimed in return, finally finding her voice in this whole line of questioning, "What happened to Syria?" Puck spun around to face her at this little tidbit, for which Quinn further elaborated, "We tracked your ship. The destination log says it's headed for Syria."

"You actually think they would file a real travel log, let alone sail that vessel across the ocean?" the man laughed, wincing and tucking to the side to protect his ribs.

"So there's an aircraft in the mix? What are they flying and where are they flying out of?" Puck demanded once more, grasping the man's injured foot, "And what do they want with our daughter?"

"Of course there is an aircraft, you prick," the man spat, his teeth rimmed with blood as he smiled back up at Puck.

The smile is what did Quinn in. Running on anger and adrenalin alone, she took a few steps toward the man before rearing back and hitting him as hard as she could in the face, recoiling her hand at the pain that radiated down her fingers and into her wrist while Puck looked on, stunned at the sudden outburst.

"What do they want with our daughter?" she screamed, emotion and anger taking over as she glared down at the man, not even waiting for the smile to return before pulling the flip-knife out of her pocket and aiming the blade directly at his manhood. "You have five seconds!"

The man's eyes shot open at the very real threat Quinn posed to his most prized body part, swallowing hard before glancing over at Puck, who simply shrugged in response, offering a 'Dude, she'll do it,' before the man looked back at Quinn, sheer panic on his face.

"Why don't you ask your husband? He is the one they wanted. The girl was just collateral," the man explained quickly, "I don't know what they want with her now though. I swear!"

The comment really rattled Quinn, her eyes shooting back over to Puck as she processed what she just heard.

What did he know that she didn't?

Was the letter at their house aimed at him instead of her?

Puck knew something and had something they wanted and it ultimately put their daughter in danger. She was absolutely seething with anger and resent as she glared at him, wanting nothing more to pull her own weapon on the man that claimed to be her husband for putting them in this position in the first place.

However, the look in his eye told her that he would explain later...but despite that, deep down she knew she couldn't trust him just yet and she was definitely going to keep a close eye on him.

Quinn pulled the knife away and stowed it back in her pocket, chancing a look back at Puck, "We have to get going. Who knows what they're planning next."

"I know," he agreed, tossing Quinn a cell phone and nodding before turning back to the man, "You have three minutes to tell me everything you know."

While Puck continued to question the man, Quinn called Logan first, relaying all of the new information quickly before calling both the police and the harbor patrol, briefly reporting a disturbance and the sound of gunshots coming from the warehouse they were currently in before hanging up abruptly.

By the time she was done, Puck had finished his questioning, making sure the man's hands and feet were bound tightly before the two of them headed out at a brisk jog, Puck inviting himself to drive Quinn's car as they took off down the frontage road in the direction in which the ship carrying their daughter headed.

* * *

After an unsuccessful attempt at tracking down Escobar's ship, the couple felt it best to regroup back at the Puckerman residence and decide where to go from there. Puck had sped down the beltway back toward Alexandria, parking the Jeep in the driveway before the two of them made their way up the front walkway.

The house was pitch-black when Quinn unlocked the door leaving her curious as to where the rest of her team had gone. However, once she and Puck walked through the door, the quiet clicking of the hammers on several guns surrounding them let her know that they definitely weren't alone and their guests were definitely armed.

"Put the weapon down and put your hands where I can see them," the voice belonging to Hunt demanded.

Puck began to shake his head before Quinn insisted that he just comply, watching as he set his weapon on the side table.

"And the gun in your ankle holster," Hunt insisted, Puck following instructions before raising his hands and holding them behind his head. "And the knife in your pocket." Puck smiled and rolled his eyes before pulling the knife out of his pocket and placing it next to his guns.

Hunt initiated a quick pat down of Puck before he called out the all clear, Puck turning to look at Quinn in question, "You know these people?"

"This is my team," she replied simply as she flipped on the hallway light revealing the other four individuals in the room, all aiming their weapons directly at Puck. She shrugged before turning toward where Logan stood, "Everyone, this is…the man who helped me escape the warehouse."

However, the rest of the team looked extremely wary, every single one of them giving Puck the once-over as he stood in front of them. After a few awkward beats, Sarah finally leaned over toward Quinn, her eyes never leaving the man in front of her.

"He looks a lot like Puck," she murmured, her weapon still raised.

"I actually think he is Puck," Quinn sighed in return, "At least he says he's Puck."

"Want us to run a DNA sample on him?"

"Actually, yeah I do."

"We'll take care of it," Sarah replied, her gaze never leaving Puck's figure as she finally lowered her weapon.

Puck took one look around the main level of the house before looking over at Quinn, "Holy fuck Q, they really tossed the place."

After all of the stress of the last few hours, Quinn finally had the chance to check out the destruction, tears welling in her eyes as she saw that they had torn her house, their home, completely apart. This was their first home, the place where she and Puck had to become adults and take out a mortgage to finance their dream. Where Beth used to play and they used to spend family dinners sitting around the kitchen table, talking about their day. Where Quinn had spent hours cleaning the house and landscaping so Beth could have her homecoming pictures at their home. Where they had been through so much as a family…all of their memories, hopes and dreams, shattered among the remnants of the glass on the floor.

She was so overwhelmed and swept away with emotion that she failed to notice the rest of her team silently shuffle out of the entryway, leaving her standing there with Puck.

"It's all just physical damage," he piped up, as if he knew what she was thinking, "You still have the memories and that's what's important. But all of the picture frames and decorations can be fixed or replaced. Beth, on the other hand, can't be replaced."

And despite the inner sadness and overwhelming disappointment she felt, his words worked like a charm, Quinn flipping the switch once again and going into problem solver mode as she followed the voices into the kitchen where her team had set up a veritable headquarters of sorts, computer screens, maps and data files littering the kitchen island and dinner table.

She watched as Puck followed her into the kitchen, his eyes widening as he nodded and looked over Hunt's shoulder at the screen in front of him, "Impressive."

"Thank you," Logan replied sternly, his gaze having never left Puck from the time the two of them walked through the door.

"Logan," Puck nodded in his direction, "It's good to see you again."

"I would say likewise but I'm too caught up trying to figure out where the fuck you've been for the last three years while your wife has been left to mourn and take care of your daughter on her own," Logan snapped back, his eyes hardening as he continued to stare Puck down.

Quinn could have stepped in and stopped the whole exchange but frankly, she had the very same question nagging in the forefront of her own mind. However, upon looking back and forth between the two men, she could have sworn she that saw a flicker of emotion behind Puck's steely eyes as he continued to hold his old friend's gaze.

"Fair enough," Puck finally relented, ignoring the barb altogether and turning his focus to the other people standing around the kitchen's workspace, "Were you able to track the ship or get any information regarding possible flights out of the area headed overseas?"

"You know what, no! I'm getting sick of this shit already," Quinn exclaimed, her frustration over him suddenly reappearing along with the magnitude and confusion over the situation finally getting to her as she turned to fully face him, "Before we go any further with this whole thing, you need to start talking. It is blatantly obvious that you know more about the situation and what Beth's kidnappers want than you're letting on and I want answers. This is my baby girl we're talking about and if you know something that can help me get her back, you better start talking."

She watched as Puck clenched his jaw tightly before taking a seat at one of the bar stools, "Alright, look, what I'm about to tell you is classified," he explained, Logan scoffing across the island as Puck simply rolled his eyes, "I'm serious, it's classified."

"Well, good thing all of us have 'Top Secret' security clearances," Quinn snapped back, "Sensitive Compartmented Information access, no less."

Puck acknowledged her with a simple nod before continuing, "I'll be honest, I wasn't quite sure why they had taken Beth until I overheard their demands at the warehouse. I had caught wind that the two organizations had joined together to try and find me here in the states, but I wasn't sure what they wanted or what they would do until I picked up the call you made to Logan earlier in the evening," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to work the knots out, "They're looking for a series of four coded discs that I came into possession of about a year ago."

"Ok, so just make the trade. Give them what they want so you can get Beth back," Chad offered.

"See, that's the problem. I can't," he replied, refusing to meet Quinn's furious stare.

"And why the hell not," she asked, the anger practically seething out of her pores.

"Because the information contained on those discs could essentially destroy our government's infrastructure," he explained, "Look, it's kind of a long story but I'll try to make it brief. I work for the Central Intelligence Agency. A few years back, they began to suspect a mole within the agency, but they had no idea of the sheer scope to which the operation extended. Let's just say it was far more extensive than we were anticipating; spanning from the CIA to the military to the State Department and so on. We've managed to "contain" the threats but now that there are some big money players from all around the world wanting the information contained on those discs, it has become much more difficult to protect that information."

"If it's so fucking difficult to protect that information, why not destroy the discs altogether?" Hunt asked.

"I would if I could," Puck replied, shaking his head in frustration, "But after I recovered them, Langley has had them on lock-down. Problem is, I'm pretty damn sure there's someone on the inside trying to get a hold of them too and may be in cahoots with Escobar and al-Assad. I have a few leads but I can't just go around accusing people in the CIA of spying for the other team. It doesn't really work that way. My supervisors are aware of my concerns but nothing has really happened lately to confirm my suspicions. At least, not until now."

Quinn sat there fuming, unable to really figure out how to deal with all of the conflicting emotions running through her body. However, what pissed her off more was the fact that Puck was able to sit there in their home, in his old spot where he used to eat dinner every night, and be so calm and complacent as he spoke to the rest of her team.

The anger, sadness and fury all became far too much for Quinn, her entire body shaking as she sat there and listened to his explanation of what he had been doing for the past few years instead of lying under the tombstone she and Beth had visited on a regular basis to mourn his passing.

"What exactly –" Logan began, before Quinn cut him off abruptly, pushing away from the counter she had been leaning against.

"So, you mean to tell me you've been working down the fucking road from us for the last three and a half years and you've never once thought to come home? To come see us and let us know that you were ok?" Quinn exclaimed.

"Quinn, after what I saw, it wasn't safe for me to come home," Puck replied calmly, "I couldn't expose you and Beth to that."

"Too fucking late!" she screamed, her entire body shaking with rage.

Both Logan and Chad shot Sarah a look, the woman quickly coming to Quinn's side and ushering her out into the living room to create some space between the former spouses. Quinn was beyond pissed off, hurt and confused at Puck's sudden re-appearance and the fact that he was sitting there like it was no big deal infuriated her even more.

Did he not appreciate the severity of the situation?

Could he not appreciate the fact that their daughter was currently being held by a group of men, terrorists and drug lords alike?

Does he not care about their daughter?

Sarah left momentarily before returning to the living room with a bottle of vodka and a box of orange juice, silently pouring Quinn and herself a stiff screwdriver before sitting next to her old friend.

"I'm not even going to ask whether or not you're ok," Sarah said, taking a sip of her drink as she watched her friend carefully.

Quinn took a long pull of her drink, wincing at the strength of the alcohol before settling back into her seat, "Honestly, at this point, I have no fucking clue what to even think. I don't – I can't even –"

"It's a lot to process."

"Yeah, no kidding," Quinn replied sarcastically, taking another long drink before pouring herself another one, "Not too often that your child gets kidnapped and your husband suddenly rises from the dead. It's been quite the day."

Sarah let out a humorless laugh, patting her friend on the shoulder, "Yeah, I can't even begin to imagine."

"I'm not gonna lie, I don't trust him," Quinn said, taking another fortifying pull of her drink, "I don't know what he wants or if he truly is Puck. He told me some things that only my husband would know but now… I don't know what to think."

"So what's your next move," Sarah asked, "And you know whatever you decide, we'll be here to back you up one-hundred percent."

"Thanks. You have no idea how much I appreciate your help," Quinn replied, "Going out of your way like this… It means a lot."

"Anytime. We're more than happy to help."

"No really, thank you –" Quinn began before Logan's voice distracted them.

"You guys should come back in and take a look at this," he began, ushering the women back into the kitchen.

As they moved through the hallway into the kitchen, Quinn could clearly hear Puck's voice speaking rapidly, turning the corner only to find him on a cell phone in their family room.

"I don't give a shit about protocol," he practically yelled, "These people are a threat to our national security and they have my daughter! They're right across the goddamn river from you! Now get in a helicopter or a fucking boat or something and find them!"

Quinn's interest perked as she watched him pace the expanse of the family room, still shouting into the phone before angrily hanging up, immediately dialing another number and speaking briskly to the person on the other end of the line.

Logan refocused her attention by gently grasping her arm as he led her over to his work station, pointing at the screen he had been sitting in front of. "So the ship that was registered under Escobar's alias was abandoned about twenty miles south of the National Harbor. Problem is, they docked right off shore from a private airstrip."

"Well then, that's probably where they're headed," Quinn replied, immediately moving to stand, "Let's get going!"

"Look, Puck was just on the phone with Quantico," Logan offered, "These guys have some serious balls, first choosing a location near the National Mall and then choosing an airstrip across the Potomac from a Marine Corps base."

"So, what are we waiting for?"

Before Logan could answer, Puck stormed back into the kitchen, "The airstrip tried to get the tail numbers but only got a partial before it took off. Here, run this through the system and try all variables registered with the FAA and every other agency you can think of," he directed, handing a small strip of paper to Logan before turning toward Quinn, "And you need to pack. Something light but functional, and bring whatever arsenal you have. I have a feeling we're gonna need it."

"Wait, slow down," Quinn replied, "What's going on?"

"We're headed overseas," he explained, a look of sheer resolve and determination etched on his face, "We're getting our daughter back."

* * *

_Ooh, adventure, danger, and explanations, oh my!_


	5. Five

_**A/N: **__Wow, I'm really embarrassed at how long it's taken me to update this story! I've had several major cases come up all of a sudden and with Fathers' Day and Independence Day, I've been spending all of my free time with my family. This time of year is always hard for us. Also, I want to offer my prayers and condolences to the family, friends, and fans of Cory Monteith. I know what it's like to lose someone you love and it is always a travesty when people leave this world so young. But, as hard as it may be for some, I heard that Cory used to read fanfiction and said that he really respected the fans who loved the show and characters so much that they spend their time writing about them. So, here's to Cory and Finn fans out there. While my 'ship isn't the same as some out there, I still care about the fandom and I'm incredibly thankful for everyone who is still reading my work. _

_Big thanks to __**MyAngel101, RAGML, randomly-hyper8771, Sux2budude, Quivk1329, MsJanelle32, and olacindy **__for your lovely reviews. I hope you all are still enjoying the story and I promise I will try hard to update more regularly from here on out. I love this story and I love where it's going, so please have some patience with me!_

* * *

**FIVE**

Beth squirmed around in her restraints as she glanced about the cabin, taking in the rest of the passengers aboard the plane, internally scowling as she watched the man sitting caddy-corner from her picking his teeth with his knife and looking her up and down. His slicked back hair and the strong stench of his cologne made her stomach roll from across the aisle as he watched her carefully, Beth choosing instead to close her eyes for a few moments.

She couldn't get the events of the last several hours out of her head. How her world had been turned upside down in a matter of moments, and the worst part of it was, she had no idea how she had gotten into this position in the first place.

Her night had been pretty uneventful after volleyball practice, texting her boyfriend and doing her homework as she waited for her mom to get home from work. She heard the front door open and figured it was her mom, but when she heard glass breaking and furniture being overturned downstairs, her stomach lurched. She barely had time to press 'call' to her boyfriend before her bedroom door was kicked in violently and two men barreled toward her. She didn't know what else to do besides react, dropping her phone and grasping her dad's old baseball bat from beside her bed, swinging furiously at the men, all of those years of tee-ball and batting practice with her dad finally paying off as she managed to subdue both of them momentarily… that is until they managed to pry the bat away and ensnared her in their tight grip, a hand closing over her mouth as she squirmed and struggled in their grasp, trying to bite and claw at her captors until they threw her into the trunk of their car and drove off.

The rest of the evening had been a blur as they drug her down to a warehouse by the docks. She picked up a little bit of their conversations in Spanish here and there, as her aunt Santana had taught her a thing or two about the language, but she could never quite figure out what they wanted. They had barely spoken two words to her despite her asking several times, but when her mother showed up shortly thereafter, she knew that whatever was going on was much bigger than herself.

A sinking pit had formed in her stomach as she heard the men finally speak to her mother, demanding something that her mom clearly had no idea what they were talking about. She felt totally drained and utterly helpless after the men suggested that she say goodbye to her mom, raising his weapon in Quinn's direction as the men all around him followed suit, surrounding her mom as she told Beth that she loved her.

But she knew her mom fought back. She saw her fight back, she saw her mom take out a few of other men, and she heard her mom scream that she would come for her. Her mom was a total badass, and she knew deep down that no matter what, her mom would fight for her. Her mom would come for her. She had to, or at least Beth could always cling to that hope no matter what.

But something else about the short time at the warehouse stood out in her mind. She was convinced she must have been hallucinating because she could have sworn she caught a glimpse of her late father among the fray.

A light chuckle from across the cabin of the jet broke her out of her thoughts, Beth's gaze connecting with the one belonging to the slicked back hair and nasty cologne, a man they called Juan. He held her gaze for a while longer before giving her a long glance up and down, licking his lips and making an obscene gesture in her direction.

Her stomach rolled once again as she tried not to think about what these men were capable of and what they wanted from her.

But after being held captive by these fuckers for the past several hours, three of which had been spent cramped with eight other men on a small charter jet, she was seriously over their intimidation tactics.

Taking her turn to look the man up and down and eyeballing the arm he had affixed in a makeshift sling, Beth couldn't help but smile back at him. "How's the arm?" she asked, the shit eating grin on her face widening as she watched his face drop into a scowl, "It must hurt as that was a pretty solid swing, if I do say so myself. Several years of softball. I actually think I heard something pop. Yikes!"

"Shut your mouth, puta," he spat, "No sabe nada."

"Well, I do know Spanish and I also know you're all a bunch of pussies if you're all so afraid of a teenage girl that you have to keep me handcuffed and tied to a chair. Really?"

"Listen here," he began, standing and looming over her before another hand shot out and shoved him back in his seat.

"Now, now, let's not provoke one another," Escobar chuckled, "We still have quite a ways to travel yet." He cut the ropes binding her to the chair, but didn't move to remove the cuffs."But don't worry, we've got plans for you once we get there, my dear."

The words sent chills down Beth's spine as she contemplated what they could possibly mean, the blonde sitting back in her seat and taking in her surroundings, paying attention to the little details about each man in the cabin and trying to memorize as much as she could about the situation, remaining vigilant just like her mom had taught her. Who knew when it may come in handy later…

* * *

Quinn watched as the ground disappeared out from under the small private jet, the cabin shuddering gently as the landing gear retracted up into the cargo hold. She kept her gaze trained on landscape outside of her window, catching a glimpse of the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument pass by before the plane banked right and began to make its way out towards the Atlantic.

She still couldn't quite wrap her head around everything that had transpired in the past six hours, from arriving home and finding her daughter had been kidnapped to running into her husband who she thought had been killed in action three years prior. It was a lot to process. And she was actually rather astounded she was still functioning, given her level of sheer exhaustion, stomach-twisting nausea over the situation with her daughter and overwhelming anxiety at sitting in such close confines with her former husband.

"So, I take it you're going to give me the silent treatment for the entire flight, huh?" Puck chimed in, breaking her out of her thoughts. However, she still couldn't make eye contact with him just yet, the amount of fury and confusion she felt toward him making her want to kiss him and punch him in the face at the same time. "You know, it is an eight hour flight. You may want to try and get some sleep."

"I'm fine," she responded shortly, her answer curt as she watched as the last strip of land was swallowed by the sea beneath them.

"No seriously Q, you look like you're about to fall over."

"Please, call me Quinn, not Q."

Puck let out an exasperated sigh as he shook his head, "I've called you 'Q' for as long as I've known you. I don't plan on stopping now."

"Well, then get used to me ignoring you whenever you choose to call me that."

"Fine _Quinn_, it's a long flight so I suggest that you either get a little bit of sleep or we work on some kind of plan for when we get there."

It was Quinn's turn to roll her eyes, shaking her head as she shot off the first thing that came to mind at the moment, "You know what, you're not my father so stop telling me what I should do."

"Ok, first of all, you're acting like a child right now. In fact, I think Beth was more mature than you're being right now when she was a little girl. And second, I am not your father, I'm your husband, and I was only trying to offer you a piece of advice."

And that was the straw that broke the camel's back, Quinn's whole body shaking with fury as she turned to stare him down, "Were."

"Were?"

"You _were _my husband, past tense," she spat, her expression livid, "As far as I know, my husband died over in Afghanistan."

She watched as Puck's face fell, a look of guilt and shame settling across his features as his shoulders slumped and he looked away.

The words had tumbled out of her mouth before she even really thought of what she was saying. It wasn't as if Quinn was intentionally trying to hurt him… but maybe deep down, she wanted to hurt him, even just a little. Let him feel how she felt for the last three years after his "death." Let him experience the pain she felt when she saw him again earlier and after he admitted to his deception in not coming home, or allowing her to mourn for him and never really move on for the past three years.

"Ouch, that one – definitely stung," he murmured, fiddling with the bottle of water in his hands as he peeled the label from the plastic, "You know, I never meant to hurt you. There were a lot of other considerations involved that you never knew about and that's the reason I didn't come home. I wanted to protect you and Beth, and no matter how badly it killed me inside knowing that I wouldn't be able to see you again, I did what I had to do to keep the two of you safe."

"Oh wow, that's the biggest load of bullshit I've heard in a while!" Quinn chuckled humorlessly, "You say you couldn't come back to us, but be honest, you've been around these past three years, haven't you? You made a few comments earlier that made it sound like you've been there watching the whole time, so how can you say you couldn't come back?"

Puck sighed before taking a deep swig of his water and shaking his head, "Look, yes I have been keeping tabs on you and Beth over the past few years. I wanted to keep up with you and make sure my girls were safe…that's how I knew about what was going on tonight and where to find the two of you. This goes a lot deeper than you think and I couldn't let anything happen to either of you. I love you both so much and I didn't want to see either of you in harm's way."

Quinn had heard about enough, Puck continuing to only half-answer her questions while evading the rest, never really sounding like he felt remorse for what he'd done. Never fully offering an explanation as to why he disappeared three years ago.

"You're my husband, and you never wanted to tell me you were still alive?" Quinn shouted, tears welling into the corner of her eyes as she stared him down and let all of her anger and frustration from the day consume her emotions, "I mourned you! I ached for you for years! I was barely functioning after I learned of your death! I couldn't even see past the next day for the longest time and the only thing that kept me going was Beth!"

"Quinn, it's not that I didn't want to come forward and see you –" he began, Quinn cutting him off before yet another excuse tumbled from his lips.

"No, you _chose_ not to come forward and tell me what happened. You made a choice and your family was not it."

"It's not as simple as that."

"Well, we have eight hours until we land," she spat before reclining back into her seat and crossing her arms, "Now's your chance to explain."

"Quinn, I really can't –"

"You know what, for being one of the bravest and honorable men I used to know, you've become a total chicken shit," Quinn fired back, "First you don't feel like coming back to your family, then you're being all cryptic by saying that you couldn't because it wasn't safe but you won't explain any further, and yet, you keep referring to me as your wife and just expect me to trust you and follow you on this trip?"

"Look, everything I did and everything that I'm doing is for your own good," Puck replied, "You may not believe me now, but eventually you will."

"I call bullshit, Noah," she exclaimed, venom lacing his name as it rolled off of her tongue, "You never would go into any mission without the proper intel and after all I've heard and seen tonight, it seems like you know way more about what the fuck is going on and why these assholes took my daughter, yet you refuse to explain."

"It's not –"

"No, it really is… you're just a fucking coward, Puck. First you run away and now you're still hiding things despite everything that's happened. You're a real piece of work," she replied as she glanced back out the window and stared into the darkness, refusing to acknowledge him let alone allow him to see just how vulnerable she truly felt.

Complete silence encompassed the cabin for several minutes, the tension building by the second as jet engines hummed in the background.

Finally, after a solid ten minutes, the sound of a throat clearing interrupted their mutual silent treatment.

"About four years ago, I and several other members of my unit started to suspect there may be a mole or someone passing intel secrets to outside sources," Puck murmured quietly, "I started noticing that a few files had gone missing or had been tapped into on the computer servers and the files that had been accessed all seemed to revolve around various anti-terror missions. It became even more apparent that someone was leaking information to outside sources when several of those missions had been exposed or foiled, resulting in several lives lost as various different groups began to figure out our moves and what we had been planning, effectively intercepting our convoys, stealing our weapons, and causing immeasurable damage. Shit just seemed to hit the fan from there after I managed to track various serial numbers from several missing weapons, getting hits in terrorist hot-spots in the Middle East as well as various locations in South America. It seemed to spiral downwards from there, especially after my unit was deployed just over three and a half years ago."

"After a few months in the field, the forward operating base I was stationed at was ambushed in the middle of the night. We tried to fight back and lost several good men in the process, but our numbers were no match for theirs and several of us were taken prisoner," he swallowed hard and shook his head, "Many were tortured to death, and the sounds they made as they suffered, those memories, they haunt me to this very day."

Quinn found herself rapt with attention as he began to open up and finally explain the reasoning behind his absence, unconsciously turning her whole body back to face him, "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Needless to say, it was a pretty shitty experience," he exhaled loudly before continuing, "But while I was imprisoned, I paid attention and learned all kinds of things. I knew pretty basic Arabic before but I picked up even more while there, catching certain phrases and putting the pieces together. After overhearing several conversations, I learned that several men I had been serving with had been slipping info to various al Qaeda and Taliban groups in exchange for money and drugs, flipping that for weapons from the cartels in South America."

"However, after a long few months, the CIA rescued me and I explained what happened and what I had learned. So, for the past three years I've been tracking these men down and taking care of the issue all while trying to stay alive to see the end of this poison to our national security," he explained before taking another sip of his water, "That's when I encountered the discs they're wanting back. I tried to protect them, but once word got out that I was the one who had them in my possession, I've had a target on my back ever since. That's why I couldn't risk them finding you. That's why I stayed away. But when I received their message about Beth, I knew I couldn't stay away any more. I slipped up by sticking around and keeping up with my girls and they caught me, turned me into their next target," he murmured, his voice soft and full of regret as he spoke about his family.

"So, what are on those discs that make them so important?"

"Blueprints and schematics," he replied, licking his lips as he glanced back over at the woman sitting across from him, "Blueprints and schematics for every US military and government installation in the world along with ammunition reports and technology assessments. In the wrong hands, it would cripple our entire nation. Someone on the inside has been compiling and putting this together for a long time now and the going rate has continued to increase. The things are almost priceless to the right person who wanted to really see the US on their knees. In good conscience, I couldn't let them have it back, but at the same time I was morally and ethically obligated to do whatever it took to keep that out of the hands of the enemy. That's when the CIA and I came up with the plan to pass along my "demise" instead of coming home. I couldn't expose you or Beth to that kind of danger while there were still people out there looking for me and those discs."

Quinn felt like she could barely breathe as she tried to process everything she had just been told and everything that had happened within the past few hours. What started out like any other workday turned into chaos the moment she realized her daughter had been kidnapped, then she was involved in a gunfight, her supposedly dead husband had come back to life and managed to throw her for another major loop by telling her he had been working as a spy with the Central Intelligence Agency for the past several years while the two of them were en route to Turkey on a private jet.

She felt like she was living in a goddamn James Bond movie.

She tried to close her eyes and shake her head, hoping to wake up from this incredibly strange dream but every time she opened her eyes, Puck was still sitting there in front of her, his expression one of concern and hope as he waited for any kind of response other than a blank stare from her.

"Look Q, I know it's a lot to take in right now and you have every right in the world to hate me or be skeptical about what I'm saying, but please just trust me and give me a chance to make it up to you and Beth once this is all over."

The look in his eyes was genuine and earnest and Quinn couldn't suppress the pang of emotion in her heart as she held his gaze for a while longer, nodding slowly, "I uh – I think I understand. You had to make some hard choices and you did what you thought was best," she murmured, swallowing hard before finally looking away, "But um – I just – I think it may be a little too early to start thinking about things between us after all of this is over when we are still no closer to getting our daughter back than we were at the warehouse. I just – I think we need some time."

"I um – I understand," Puck replied, rubbing a hand over his head and down his neck, clearing his throat as he decided to change the topic to something less personal, "Maybe we should uh – I think we should compare notes and figure out a strategy before we land."

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Quinn agreed.

The two of them discussed their possibilities and options for the next hour before deciding to settle back and give into their exhaustion, falling into a fitful state of sleep for the rest of the flight….

…yet, despite their training and organized planning, nothing could truly prepare them for what they were about to face in the upcoming days…

* * *

_spoiler alert: shit is about to hit the fan..._


End file.
