"So this is you?" Joe addressed his brother. He heard his own voice shaking, and made a concerted effort to control the feelings that were trying to crush him.

"Yes." Frank replied simply, glancing at his father.

"They were taken when we were in New York City?"

"Right."

"They just changed the color of your clothes and put someone else’s head on your body. Cropped out most of the background, too."

"Yes." Frank exchanged another glance with his father, starting to get worried. Joe was taking this much too well.

"They did a good job." Joe murmured, finally looking at Frank. "How did you figure it out?"

Frank hesitated, unsure how to answer. When he’d related Callie’s story to Joe and his father, Frank had left out the part about how he’d eventually figured out he was the man in the pictures. After getting over his initial shock and anger at Frank for sending Callie home, Joe had been willing to listen to Frank. As upset as he was, Joe did acknowledge he was too angry to question Callie or listen to her relate what had transpired. He had calmed down considerably and Frank was reluctant to do anything to get him worked up again. Frank feared that if Joe saw himself and Vanessa in the pictures, obviously so happy, it would be enough to send Joe tumbling back into that shadowy place in his soul, where his anger controlled him and pushed him to the extremes.

"Frank." Joe repeated, sensing he had touched a nerve. "How did you know it was you in the pictures?"

"Just the background." Frank replied vaguely. "They weren’t able to crop out all of it."

Joe nodded. Picking up one of the pictures, he noticed his hands were barely shaking now, and began to examine it more closely, squinting at something that had caught his eye. Silently, he got up and walked to his father’s desk. Opening the drawer, he pulled out the same magnifying glass Frank had used just a short while ago. Placing the picture on the desk directly under the light, he used the magnifying glass to focus in on one particular image in the background.

"No." Frank whispered a little louder than he intended, drawing his father’s attention. Frank saw the expression on Joe’s face change dramatically and knew he had found himself and Vanessa. Motioning for his father to step back so they could talk without Joe overhearing, Frank quietly tried to explain what he had originally seen and what Joe had apparently just found.

Joe gazed at the image through the powerful lens. Vanessa was sitting on his lap, their arms wrapped around each other tightly and they were locked in a fiery, passionate kiss. All the emotions, the feelings, the happiness they’d felt that weekend suddenly came rushing back, mocking Joe, reminding him that once again, he had been unable to protect Vanessa from harm.

The tenuous grip Joe had on his temper had slipped away the second he saw Vanessa in the photograph. He looked at Frank and Fenton with warring emotions. They had promised him Vanessa would be safe and they had been wrong. Without warning, he heard Frank’s voice echoing in his ears.

It was immediately followed by his father’s reassurance that nothing could happen to Vanessa there.

Something snapped and all the anger, all the rage, all the fury Joe had tried so hard to control suddenly took control of him. He jumped up, accidentally knocking over the lamp and stood, transfixed by the shards of glass that rained down on the floor.

Joe stared at the broken glass, a blind rage washing over him as the meaning of his brother’s words became crystal clear. If Callie had shown Frank the pictures as soon as she had received them, everything could have been avoided. Frank would have figured out he was the man with Callie. There would have been no blackmail, no reason for Vanessa to be kidnapped. No reason for Joe to worry that tonight, her worst nightmare could return – repeatedly – and send her into a depression so deep he’d never get her back.

"So there was no need for any of this." Joe’s voice broke. "There was no reason for Vanessa to be kidnapped."

Feeling the white hot anger take over, Joe spun away from his brother. Joe knew he was about to lose control and he did not want Frank to become the target for his pent up rage. Frank had already suffered enough tonight.

‘Breathe in, breathe out.’ Joe told himself. He was shaking, trying desperately to regain control. ‘Come on, you can do it.’

"Joe…" he heard his father’s deeply concerned voice. Joe knew they were thinking of his violent reaction the night Vanessa had been raped, as was he.

Joe held up a hand, warning his father back. He knew he could no longer let his anger control his every move. It hadn’t done Vanessa any good on that dark night three months ago, and it wouldn’t do her any good now.

When Joe had started therapy, he found the memories of the time he had been kidnapped were so traumatic he had an extremely difficult time just thinking about them, let alone talking about how he felt. More often than not, his anger would surface the second his therapist tried to get him to open up. It had become clear to him that he had to work on controlling his temper, his emotions, rather than letting them control him.

Joe knew he could not continue to let his rapidly changing emotions dictate his every move whenever he got upset. His therapist had been extremely understanding and was working with Joe to help him achieve a more even balance between feeling his emotions and reacting to them, especially in high stress situations. Calling on everything he had learned, Joe was determined to regain control now, no matter how long it took. What had happened to Vanessa was not his father’s fault, nor Frank’s, and he vowed not to make them the target of the rage that was trying to get the better of him.

‘Come on, get control of yourself…breathe in, breathe out…you can do this.’ It took several tense minutes before Joe was finally able to turn and face his father and brother. He was still angry – incensed – but at least it was now under control. For the moment, anyway.

"What do we need to do first?" Joe asked, looking at his father.

"Joe, are you sure…" Fenton began apprehensively.

"Dad, please." Joe begged him. "I need something to focus on…now!"

Fenton studied his youngest son and realized the amount of effort it took for Joe to regain his composure so quickly, given everything that had transpired in the past several hours. Vowing to do whatever was necessary to keep Joe on an even keel until Vanessa was found, he began a mental outline of what needed to be done to ensure Vanessa’s safe return and the continued safety of Gary Travers.

"First, you need to go home and get the file." He told Joe.

"Why?" Joe asked, suspiciously. "I’m giving it to them. You already agreed."

"And I still do. But we need to buy some time to get Travers a new identity before they find him." Fenton replied, and then turned to Frank. "Once Joe gets back with the file, can you come up with a new code? Something that will appear to match the other one."

Frank nodded. "Yes. I just got a new program from your friend in the FBI that can encode anything. I can enter the information I want coded, give it a few parameters and it’ll come up with at least five different encryptions."

"Good. Make sure to give them some concrete information, details that will complete what’s in the first file, but with false information. Send them on a wild goose chase for a few days."

"When I get a look at Joe’s file, I can see what details that one has, figure out what’s missing and work backwards from there. I haven’t had any reason to look at Travers’ file in over eight months. I’m not sure what information was in my file and what’s in Joe’s."

Joe had been listening, silently, to the exchange between Frank and their father with growing trepidation. "Can you get it done by tomorrow?" He asked Frank, clearly worried.

"Absolutely." Frank said with conviction. Somehow, he felt responsible for this entire mess; felt he had let Joe down and he wasn’t about to do it again. He would move heaven and earth to have the new file ready by the time Vanessa’s kidnappers called with instructions for the exchange.

"Joe, why don't you go and get the file now. Frank and I will work on getting a new identity started for Travers while you're gone." Fenton said, wanting to keep Joe busy and his mind occupied.

"Ok." Joe slowly got to his feet, not looking forward to returning to their apartment without Vanessa, knowing the memories that would assault him the second he walked in the door.

Joe had gotten all the way to the front door of his parents house when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Frank staring at him, his eyes filled with remorse.

"I'm so sorry, Joe." Frank choked out, fighting to keep his emotions in check. "I had no idea, I swear."

"I know you didn't, Frank. It's not your fault." Impulsively, Joe reached out and hugged his brother, heartbroken at the look in his eyes. Joe couldn't do a thing for Vanessa at the moment, but maybe he could make Frank feel just a little bit better. As Joe tried to pull back, he was surprised to find Frank very reluctant to let him go. Patting him on the back as Frank had done so many times for him, Joe tried to reassure him.

"We'll find her, Frank. Together. You and me. A team. Just like always."

"Thanks, little brother." Frank whispered. Abruptly, he released Joe and hurried back into the office, leaving a slightly stunned Joe staring after him. Joe suddenly thought of Callie and was surprised that instead of the all-consuming anger that had been trying to control him for the past few hours, he felt pity.

'If you couldn't go to Frank, why didn't you come to me, Cal?' Joe thought sadly. 'I would have understood better than anybody.' Shaking his head, Joe stepped out into the night.

Returning to the office, Frank found his father just hanging up the phone. "How's Joe doing?" Fenton asked. He was a little concerned at Joe's abrupt mood changes even though they seemed to be for the better this time around.

"Better than I am." Frank muttered. He looked at his father sadly. "Dad, I just don't get why she didn't tell me right away. I know I made a mistake with Joe. Doesn’t she understand what that cost me? Did she think I would forget so quickly? That I wouldn't learn from it?"

Fenton heard the despair in Frank's voice and would have given anything to be able to take it away. He sighed as he realized that lately, it seemed, his sons needed him even more than they did when they were children.

"I honestly don't know, Frank. I know she loves you - deeply. I'd guess her emotions got the best of her and she was thinking with her heart and not her head. I'm not making excuses for her - there's no excuse for what she did - but it sounds like this guy really put the pressure on her. I'm sure if she'd had more time to think things through, she would have come to a much different decision."

"The worst part is Vanessa - and Joe - are paying the biggest price. This is the last thing in the world they need right now. We were just starting to see a tiny bit of the real Joe and Vanessa; the way they used to be. God, I hope this doesn't set them back too much." Frank couldn't mask his hopelessness. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes, his voice barely a whisper. "If anything happens to Vanessa, I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive Callie. I know Joe never will."

"Well, the good news is these guys are professionals. They have to be part of the drug cartel you and Joe infiltrated last summer. Remember, we only got the Northeast branch of their operation. They are still very much in business in other parts of the country and the world." Fenton replied.

"Why is the fact that they are organized crime a good thing?" Frank asked, puzzled.

"They don’t like any unnecessary trouble. Anything that would call attention to them. They need Vanessa alive and unhurt to get the file. As long as she doesn't see or hear anything that could be used against them, they probably will let her go once they get the file." Fenton explained.

"So, whoever is in charge of keeping her under wraps will probably have as little contact with her as possible." Frank said, following his father’s train of thought. "So you think the chances of her being hurt are pretty slim."

"Exactly."

Feeling a little less worried, Frank changed the subject. "Who did you call just now? It's kind of late."

Fenton hesitated a beat before answering. "Nick Rapposelli. An old friend who works for the Witness Protection Program. I asked him to arrange a new identity for Travers and involve as few people as possible. When I explained the circumstances to him, he assured me he could probably handle it by himself."

"Why would that matter? Wouldn't it be quicker to have as many people as possible working on it?" Frank was puzzled by his father’s strange request.

"Yes, it would." Fenton replied, wondering if he should tell Frank the real reason he didn't want a whole squad of people involved.

"So…" Frank pressed, a quizzical expression on his face.

Fenton sighed. He hadn't wanted to discuss this with Frank tonight, thinking his oldest son had more than enough to deal with at the moment.

"What is it, Dad? By the way you're acting, I'm obviously not going to like it so just get it over with." Frank snapped, wondering if the bad news would ever end.

"I don't think Callie realized how damaging this would be to your reputation and your credibility if it got out. A private investigator whose wife steals classified files and turns them over to criminals…" Fenton let his words hang in the air a moment, knowing Frank would get the meaning quickly, without him having to say anymore. "The fewer people who know about this the better, Frank. Nick promised it would go no further than him. If anyone does find out about what he's doing, he'll just tell them your files were broken into and that one was stolen. End of story. It's happened to the best of us, so no one would think twice about it."

Frank leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. "What if he can't keep it quiet? What then? Both mine AND Joe's reputations will be ruined." Frank's voice floated out, sounding totally defeated.

"Nick is pretty good with 'covert' operations, so to speak. If the truth does get out, well, we'll just cross that bridge if we get to it." Fenton tried to sound reassuring. "We've got enough on our plate right now, what with getting Vanessa back and getting Travers to a new location. Let's focus on that tonight, shall we?"

Frank looked up and saw his father smiling at him, and Frank found himself smiling back. "How can you even stand to look at me, Dad, let alone smile about anything?"

"Because you haven't done anything wrong, son. You're just as much a victim as Vanessa is. Now why don't we get to work, hmm?"

Joe stood outside the door to his apartment, trying to work up the nerve to go inside. He wasn't sure he could handle the emotions that he knew would overwhelm him the second he walked in. He remembered vividly the continuous, rapid-fire change of emotions that had taken control of him the night Vanessa had been raped. To this day, he couldn't remember some of the things he had said or done once his anger and rage had exploded into violence. Knowing he could not have a repeat performance tonight, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves and slowly opened the door.

Standing on the threshold, he didn't move, refusing to step inside just yet. Glancing around the living room, he saw it was just as he had left it that morning. The newspaper strewn on the couch, coffee cup on the end table next to the empty plate he had forgotten to return to the kitchen before he left. Smiling sadly, he could almost hear Vanessa teasing him that it was the maid’s day off and he would need to pick up after himself. Still, something held him back, kept him from taking that first step.

Taking a deep breath, Joe stepped into the apartment and purposefully strode down the hall to the small office Vanessa had set up. Unlocking the cabinet, he quickly pulled out the file on Gary Travers, relocked the cabinet and turned to leave, coming to a sudden stop when he caught sight of the small, framed picture sitting on top of the computer monitor.

Walking to the desk, Joe picked it up and gazed at the picture of he and Vanessa. He had no idea when it was taken, but they had their arms wrapped around each other and looked like a couple very much in love. Laughing softly to himself, he remembered when they had moved into the apartment. One of the first things Vanessa had done was put a picture of the two of them or just Joe in every single room. When Joe had teasingly asked her if that was because she simply couldn’t live without him, she had looked him dead in the eye and very seriously replied, "Yes."

"You got it wrong, Babe." Joe said to Vanessa’s image in the photograph. "I’m the one who can’t live without you."

‘And I won’t.’ He thought, returning the picture to its place on the monitor. ‘No one is going to take you away from me.’

With new determination, Joe headed for the door, stopping briefly to put the newspaper in the recycle bin and the dirty plate and coffee cup in the dishwasher. As he left the apartment and shut the door behind him, Joe took one final glance over his shoulder and vowed the next time he returned home, Vanessa would be by his side.