July 21, 2012 - 0702 hours

"There it is, right up that road. Are you sure this is going to work?" Amanda asked.

"Absolutely. Hans is going to wish he'd never done this to you. He'll be eating right out of your hand," Skipper answered, fixing the ear com in her ear.

"All right, then. I can't wait."

10 minutes later

Amanda approached the door of the small mansion and knocked. A man answered and stared at her in confusion. Her hair was in mats, her clothing was torn and untidy, and there was this look in her eye that could only be described as 'demented.'

"Amanda? Is Hans expecting you?" he asked.

"I did the job. Let me in," she ordered.

"Hold on, let me get authorization to—"

Amanda shut him up by whipping out the dagger and gently touching its tip to his throat. "Here's your authorization."

The man gulped and opened the door for her. She stepped in, said, "Much obliged," and then marched forward. The team had hacked into the security footage to Hans' hideout, so all she had to do was follow their directions on where to find Hans. She was going to make him beg for mercy.

She was walking down a long corridor on the second floor when two guards appeared. Pulling out the small dart gun Rico had given her, she put a dart in both, causing them to drop instantly. Amanda smiled wildly as she approached a set of doors at the end of the hallway. She pushed them open.

"I'm busy," Hans said without looking up from the files on his desk.

Amanda stood in the doorway, feet apart, the dagger clutched tightly in her hand, and murder in her eyes. Finally, Hans looked up and closed his file at the sight of her.

"Amanda? How did you get in here?" he asked, rising from his chair.

Amanda stepped in and shut the door behind her, turning the lock. Hans eyed the dagger in her hand and gulped.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Hans stammered, leaning against his desk on the palms of his hands. Amanda raised the dagger and brought it down into the desk forcefully. The blade wedged itself into the finish, right in between Hans' fingers.

Hans jumped back and landed in his chair. Amanda ripped the dagger out of the wood and walked around the desk, leaning into Hans' face. Hans gulped, his eyes wide with fear.

"You know why I'm here," Amanda said sternly.

"Now, Amanda, let's not do anything we'll regret here," Hans said nervously as he traced the edge of his desk for the panic button. Amanda used the flat side of the blade to push his hand away from the desk.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she threatened. She grabbed the arms of the office chair and pushed it to the center of the room. Then she raised the dagger and threw it at him. It wedged itself in the back of the chair, just inches from his head.

"You killed my son," Amanda hissed.

Hans tried to pull the dagger from the chair, but it was wedged into the internal furnished wood and it was no use. Amanda, however, ripped the dagger free in one yank. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him so close his face was just an inch from hers.

"Don't worry, this will only hurt—a lot," she spat. She pulled him from the chair by his shirt and pushed him towards the ground, but Hans caught himself and stood upright.

"Now, Amanda, you don't know what you're doing—!"

"I know exactly what I'm doing! How can you live with yourself?! You had your own son killed!" Amanda screamed.

"Amanda, I know how you must be feeling but—"

"You have no idea how I'm feeling right now," Amanda growled.

She stepped closer to him, grabbed the side of his neck and shoved him to the ground. Then she kicked her foot into his chest, landing him on his back, and got on top of him. She gently ran the blade across his cheek in a shaving motion.

"I wonder how you'd look without a face," she said through clenched teeth.

"He's not dead!" Hans screamed in terror.

Amanda laughed. "You fool. You expect me to believe that?"

"It's true! I would have never killed him, anyway! I ordered my guard not to lay a harmful finger on him! I didn't tell you because I assumed you'd bring the team! Please, Amanda! You have to believe me!" Hans pleaded.

"If he's not dead then where is he?!"

"Look, I took him out, all right? I wanted to let him have a little fun. Fun with me. But he tricked me and ran away. He knew I was bad news from the start! I don't know where he is! I swear!"

"Why should I believe you?!" Amanda asked, pressing the dagger harder to his cheek, almost enough to break skin.

"Because despite everything I've put you through, I still love you, Amanda!" Hans blurted.

Amanda stared at him with a straight, emotionless face in silence.

"I don't expect you to believe me. But I was never going to hurt our son. He's a beautiful boy and I wish I would have gotten the chance to be a father to him. But I screwed up. You know he has your eyes? I miss seeing your beautiful blue eyes, you know," Hans said softly with a hint of a smile.

Amanda remained silent for but a moment longer. "I guess that's your loss, then," she said finally.

She then stood up, turned around, and left him there. Hans pushed himself into a sitting position and slammed his fist to the floor in defeat.

Amanda met the team outside, where they had taken out a number of guards.

"Amanda, are you all right?" Kowalski asked when she saw the distant look in her eye.

"I'm fine. Let's go find my son," she said, climbing inside the van, not meeting any of their gazes.

"He could be anywhere in New York by now!" Private cried.

"I don't care. I'm not resting until I find him, no matter how long it takes," Amanda said with determination. The team didn't object, as you never get between a mother and her child.

2039 hours

It'd been hours, without luck. They'd split into teams: Kowalski and Amanda were searching Manhattan, Skipper and Private searched New York City, and Rico and Marlene scoped out Queens. They'd checked and double-checked every street and alley in those three cities, and either Ryan wasn't in them, or they kept missing each other.

Kowalski and Amanda were now in Central Park.

"Don't worry, Amanda. We'll find him," Kowalski assured her.

Amanda shook her head and sat down on the nearest bench in exhaustion. She put her face in her hands and tried not to cry.

"He could be anywhere! He's probably in an alley somewhere digging in a dumpster for food, all cold and alone and scared. He could have been kidnapped or mugged or murdered or ran over, I don't even know!"

Kowalski sat down next to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Amanda buried her face into his chest and wept. Kowalski gently stroked her hair to soothe her.

"It's going to be all right, Amanda," he promised.

After a few minutes of silence, Amanda got to her feet with hope burning in the center of her chest as she took notice of Skipper, Rico, Private, and Marlene approaching, but she didn't see her son with them.

"I'm sorry. None of us have had any luck," Skipper said sorrowfully.

"We'll try again tomorrow," Marlene suggested.

"No, I want to keep looking," Amanda insisted.

"Amanda, it's almost nine o'clock at night and you're exhausted. You need to rest," Private argued.

"I don't want to rest until I—"

Amanda looked past them in shock and the others followed her gaze. Amanda pushed through them.

There, about twenty yards away, stood Hans—and Ryan.

Ryan looked up at Hans, as if asking for permission to go. Hans nodded and Ryan—in his dirty clothes, messy hair, and unlaced shoes—raced forward. Amanda ran halfway and fell to her knees with her arms open as Ryan fell into them. Amanda held him tightly as she cradled him.

"Ryan, I'm so glad you're alive! Are you okay? I was so worried!" Amanda cried into his hair.

"I'm fine, Mama! I didn't trust Hans much, just like you said, don't trust strangers. So I got away. Isn't that what you said, Mama?" Ryan asked, pushing back smiling at her.

Amanda laughed and brushed his hair out of his face.

"That's my boy," she said proudly. She looked at Hans over his shoulder. He was watching them from several feet away with his thumbs in his pockets.

"I'll be right back," Amanda said, getting to her feet and walking past him. When she minimized the distance between them she stopped and crossed her arms, silently demanding an explanation.

"My men found him," Hans said softly.

"This still doesn't change anything," Amanda responded.

Hans took a deep breath. "I know. I don't expect it to. I should have never done this. I don't want nor expect forgiveness, but I am sorry," he said.

Amanda hesitated and sighed. "Thank you—for finding him," she said finally.

Hans nodded and looked past her at Ryan. "He's a good boy. You've done well," he paused, "It is my loss, Amanda."

Amanda didn't respond and he looked down.

"Goodbye, Amanda."

"Bye, Hans," Amanda replied quietly.

With that, Hans turned and left without another word and without looking back.

Apartment 50D Terrace - July 22, 2012 - 0937 hours

Kowalski leaned against the railing. "Why do you have to leave?" he asked.

"Because, Kowalski, you need your team more than you need me. I also have Ryan to think about. I really care about you, Kowalski, I do. But I hope you understand that I care about my son more. I think the good you do for people is great, but you have enemies, Kowalski. I don't want my son a target. If it were just me, it'd be different. I hope you know that," Amanda replied, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Where will you go?" Kowalski asked.

"Probably back to NYC. Ryan's friends are there. And so is my career," Amanda answered. Kowalski took her hand.

"You don't have to do this," he said with pleading eyes.

"But I do. I'm sorry, Kowalski. I'll be around," she told him with a smile.

"Will I ever see you again?" Kowalski asked, stepping closer to her.

Amanda sighed. "I don't know. I hope so," she said.

"I suppose there's nothing I can say to get you to change your mind," Kowalski said doubtfully.

"No, afraid not," Amanda answered.

"I'll never forget you, Amanda," Kowalski promised. He rested his hand on her cheek and stared deeply into her eyes. "I could've fallen in love with you," he said softly.

Amanda swallowed the lump in her throat to try to refrain from crying. "And I, you. I wish there was something I could do to show you how grateful I am for everything you've done for me," she told him.

"How 'bout a kiss goodbye?" Kowalski suggested with a sheepish smile.

Amanda smiled back, gently grabbed his collar, and pulled him closer until their lips met. Kowalski firmly grabbed her waist and greedily pulled her close. Amanda didn't resist. After what could have lasted a lifetime, Amanda finally pulled away.

"Goodbye, Kowalski," she whispered softly against his lips.

"Goodbye, Amanda," Kowalski whispered back.

For the sake of trying not to cry, Amanda turned and went inside her apartment. A few minutes later, Kowalski saw her down in the street climbing into a taxi with her son. She looked up and saw him, waving one last goodbye. Kowalski waved back and watched as she drove away.

Skipper appeared at Kowalski's side. "Sorry, amigo," he said.

"'Sokay. I'll see her again one day," Kowalski replied.

Skipper smiled sympathetically and patted his back before he went back inside.

Kowalski crossed his arms and heard a crinkle in his shirt pocket. When he reached in, he pulled out a slip of paper. He unfolded it and read the note:

555-0381 Keep in touch?

Kowalski smiled and mentally sent her an 'absolutely.' Then he folded the note again and stuck it back in his pocket.

— § —

"So, who were those men, Mama?" Ryan asked.

Amanda smiled. "They're friends, Ryan. Really good friends."