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"Well, Rachel seems to put getting information over her own safety," Zane commented. "She's a brave woman."

"I know, but she should have come and gotten me."

"It would have taken too long. Let's focus on Levitan. We need his cooperation. We need him to talk."

"Oh, I'll get him to talk if it's the last thing I do."

"Well, I don't want it to be the last thing you do, and neither does Rachel."

He heard the warning in Zane's voice, but he was raging inside, terrified that Rachel was going to die before he could find her, before he could tell her how much she meant to him.

Rachel woke up on her back on a hard table, confused and disoriented. The first thing she noticed was the smell, not the chemical sweetness of whatever they'd used to knock her out, but perfume, heavy and expensive, so strong it made her stomach turn, and there was a familiarity to that scent.

Then she heard a woman's voice, low and impatient. "Burn it down. All of it. We're not leaving anything behind for them to find."

A man murmured something, but she couldn't hear what he said, and his voice held an accent she couldn't place.

She forced her eyes open. Across the room, a door was swinging shut. She caught only a glimpse of a tall, slender figure with long dark hair, dressed in tight black pants and a black jacket. Then the door closed, and a lock turned. She'd seen that woman before. But where?

With that question unanswered, she turned her head and tried to figure out where she was. There were three exam bays, with curtains in between. Lab equipment, IVs, and monitors were also visible, but everything seemed messy and chaotic. There was a desk with drawers yanked out and cabinets with remainders of medical supplies that looked like they'd been left behind in haste.

As the fog in her head began to lift, she knew she had to move. She forced herself to sit up, but the movement made her dizzy, so she paused to let that feeling pass. Then she carefully got to her feet and opened the curtain next to her. Naomi was on the table, passed out.

She moved toward her, putting her hand on her wrist. She was alive. Her pulse was slow but steady. "Naomi," she said forcefully. They appeared to be alone, but she didn't know how much time they had before someone came back. "Wake up." She squeezed her fingers hard.

Naomi stirred at her words, at her touch, her eyes slowly opening, her gaze cloudy and confused. "What…what happened?"

"We were thrown in a van outside St. Anne's. They knocked us out with something. I don't know what."

"God, I can still smell it and taste it on my lips," Naomi said with a grimace.

She felt the same way, but she couldn't think about that. She had to focus. "When I was waking up, I saw a woman…" She stopped, realizing where she'd seen her. "It was that woman who was in Ethan's office a few days ago—the pharmaceutical rep. The tall, beautiful woman with the dark hair and a ton of perfume."

Something flickered in Naomi's eyes as she struggled to sit up. "She comes to see him all the time."

"Who is she? What's her name? Is she really a pharmaceutical rep?"

"Yes. She's a rep. She drops off samples with him. I think her name is Vivienne. I don't remember her last name. Where are we?"

"I was going to ask you the same question."

"Waverly?" Naomi questioned.

"I don't think so. The walls are brick. The windows are boarded up." Her words echoed the ones she'd heard Jack say when he'd described the last place that he'd been. "I believe we're in the warehouse where they took Jack Barrone when they kidnapped him from the hospital. That's what happened, isn't it?" she challenged.

Naomi's gaze shifted as if she didn't know how to answer.

"You're not going to talk?" she demanded. "Look at where you are, Naomi. You're here with me, and I don't think anyone wants to keep either of us alive."

"They're not going to hurt us," Naomi protested.

"Are you serious? Of course they're going to hurt us. They're probably going to kill us."

"I did everything they asked me to do. I didn't tell anyone," she said, the words suddenly falling out of her mouth.

"What exactly did you do? Talk," she ordered.

Naomi gave her a terrified look, then said, "I just sent emails to veterans encouraging them to seek treatment at Waverly. Occasionally, I called to follow up."