Things are getting intense.

Agent Singer was startled by his partner's gleeful smile when he let himself into the small bungalow that served as their safehouse.

"I got something!" his partner said enthusiastically.

"Yeah?" Singer looked him over dubiously. "What?"

"It's big," Montrose said. "I think they're gonna try to come get her tonight."

"What?" Singer asked. "What the fuck? Why didn't you message me? How many? How are they-"

"She won't say," Montrose said. "But I got her to crack."

"Bullshit! How?"

"I realized that her sudden perkiness wasn't something their leader pushed onto her - it was actually Sam feeling that way. Knowing that, I asked a few leading questions and she gave it all away. She still denies it, of course, but I know-"

"Explain later," Singer said as he rushed to the door. "We've got to get her out of here now."

He barged into the room where Sam was waiting with an expectant smile.

"Hi, Cyrus," she said to the shorter agent. "How's Martha?"

He stopped in his tracks, staring at her with his mouth open. Without warning, he turned and punched Montrose in the jaw. In an instant he was on top of the other agent and screaming.

"You told her! You fucking told-"

"Stop!" she shouted. "He didn't! How could he have known about what you did in Philly in '98? Or the shopping mall in Alberta?"

The agent went pale as a sheet and stood, stepping away from his partner. Montrose sat up and rubbed his sore jaw.

"Boys," Sam confessed, "I have to admit something. I may have been a little deceptive. You see, my link to the boss functions as a one-way radio, but it's not the only link I have."

Singer bolted for the door, but Montrose grabbed his leg and tripped him. He turned and stared at his partner with wild, uncomprehending eyes. Sam continued to speak calmly.

"Thank you, Daniel. Cyrus, leaving this room right now is a very bad idea. You see, just as the boss's thoughts are beamed into my head, my thoughts are beamed into others' heads. As soon as they realized I'd been taken, they made sure that everything I experienced was also experienced by some of the top minds in our organization.

"For months I waited, but you two were very professional. Muddy shoes and wet hair helped us narrow my location down geographically, and thanks to a cigar aficionado that could smell through me we were able to track down Cyrus's brand. But what really gave it away was this."

She strolled over to Agent Singer and lifted his shirt to reveal a small tattoo of a lit match at the bottom of his rib cage. He quickly pulled his shirt back down and backed away, keenly aware of the sudden change in power dynamics.

"Cyrus, buddy, in this line of work you can't afford tattoos. You definitely can't afford tattoos that link you to known extremist organizations. It took some work, but we eventually pieced it all together. You have quite the resume!"

"What do you want?" Cyrus asked coldly. "What do I need to give you to leave this room with my free will intact?"

Sam smiled broadly and opened her arms wide in a welcoming gesture. Behind the agents, the door began to open.