"It's not here. We need to keep looking," says a man with a familiar voice.

Alex is lying in bed when he hears the voices in the hall. He sits up and lightly places his feet on the floor. The loud bang from the door across the hall being kicked open sends a shock through Alex's body. He stands up quickly and locks his bedroom door, hoping to temporarily thwart whoever is on the other side.

"What are you doing here?!" Blake screams from her room.

Another loud bang. This time it echoed, pierced through the house and Alex's ears begin to ring. A gunshot.

"MOM!" he yells as tears begin to form in his eyes.

He immediately covers his mouth with his hands and falls to his knees. Realizing that whoever is in the house may have heard him, he panics and hides inside the closet, closing the door once he's inside.

Sitting at the bottom of the closet, hands still over his mouth, forcing himself to be quiet, his bedroom door handle jiggles for a moment. The door violently swings open as two armed men with black masks enter the room. Alex jumps, letting out a short but quiet gasp of air. The two men slowly make their way through the room, panning it with their eyes, searching.

One of the men stop right in front of the closet. He has dark brown boots on, the black pant legs are tucked inside, military style. A sharp combat knife is attached around his calf, still resting in its sheath. The tall, muscular man has a black short sleeve shirt, tucked neatly into his pants and wrapped with a large black vest, decorated with two handguns and extra ammo. He looks down at the closet door.

"Just stay quiet Alex. We don't want to hurt you," whispers the military-esque man.

Alex recognizes the voice.

"Who are you talking to?" asks another voice from the corner of the room. "Are you going to help me look for this damn thing or not?"

Both men continue rummaging through the bedroom, searching for something. But what? Alex lays there in the closet, completely motionless, watching as the two men tear apart the room.

"I told you, it's not here," says the man with the familiar voice.

"It has to be. They were just talking about it the other day," says a female voice from the hall.

Linda walks into the bedroom. The two men stand at attention with their hands by their sides while Linda begins to scan the room. She immediately opens the closet door and exposes Alex inside. Alex slides even further into the small closet, cowering in the corner afraid of what may happen next.

"Where is it Alex?" Linda asks with a thoughtless tone.

"Where is what?" Alex answers, visibly shaken.

Linda snaps. She reaches into the closet and drags Alex out by the collar of his blue shirt.

"The damn folder!" she yells, staring Alex right in the eyes.

Alex is scared. He glances for a moment to the top of the closet, and immediately looks down at the floor. Linda turns toward the closet and sees a large brown box sitting on the top shelf. She snaps her fingers and points, and the two armed men grab the box and dump its contents on the bed.

"It's not here ma'am," one of the men say.

"Do you think this is a joke boy?" asks Linda as she gets down on one knee, arms pinned to the floor on both sides of Alex.

"I swear, that's the last place I saw it. I don't know where it's at," Alex responds shaking.

"Go get the mother," Linda demands as one of the men step into the hallway and into the next bedroom.

Linda stands up, and Alex slides onto his back, laying his head on the floor. He sees his yellow jacket stuffed under the bed. Alex lets a tiny smile form as he remembers the day he got that jacket.

The guy sent to retrieve Blake still hasn't returned.

"What's taking so long?" Linda ask furiously.

The smell of smoke starts to fill the air. Linda and the other man in the room, make their way into the hall to investigate. Two faint whistling noises are heard from the hallway as the floor shakes for a moment. Alex slides underneath his bed and grabs the yellow jacket to cover himself up, trying his hardest to hide from the people in the house.

The door to Alex's room slams shut, the vacuum in the house from the flow of smoke and flames has started to build up.

Unable to breathe, smoke billowing up from under the door, Alex starts coughing, trying not to inhale too much smoke, yells for his mom. His chest is burning. It feels as if someone is pouring gasoline down his throat and tossing a match on his tongue. Every breath hurts worse than the last.

The sound of glass shattering behind him and the dark shadow of a man standing over Alex is engraved into his mind just before he passes out. Alex is drug from the house on the shoulder of the mysterious man, through the window and laid down on the softened ground beside a large tree. Moonlight shines across his face through the towering trees surrounding the house. He starts to cough, ash and dust covering his face as he squints, holding at his chest and scanning the area for a sign of the man that saved him. Barely catching a glimpse of the dark shadow of a man climbing through the window again, Alex yells.

"Find my mom!" with a raspy, exhausted howl.

Alex props himself up against the side of one of the vehicles parked in the yard, still holding his chest from the unbearable pain. He slowly tosses his head from side to side, negotiating with himself on what to do next. He sees the outline of a man jumping through a window and running into the woods.

There are multiple cars parked throughout the yard. A large black van on the far side of the house, another truck parked along the tree line. Glancing to his right as he tosses his head once more, he realizes that the car he's leaning against, isn't his mother's or Linda's. This car was bigger. Freshly cleaned rims still shine through the thin coat of dust from the driveway. Looking up he notices the tinted windows, and then, just below the passenger side window, a white sticker. The letters "NPR" are decaled on the side.

"What the hell?" Alex says to himself.

His heart starts to race, even harder than before. The adrenaline rushing through his body is too much. Alex, getting dizzy, tries to sit up, and passes out against the rear tire of the black SUV, his yellow jacket wrapped around his shoulders.

The mysterious man that saved Alex, is inside Blake's room.

"Blake! Blake!" he shouts. Using one arm to cover his mouth and nose from inhaling smoke, and the other to push debris out of the way in his search for Blake. He opens the bathroom door of her room as half of it crumbles from the damage of the flames. There she is, laying in the middle of the bathroom floor, bound with duct tape and cable ties, unconscious. He picks her up, and quickly runs toward the broken window.

The ceiling caves in, right in front of the window he is trying to escape through. Jumping backward to avoid the falling rubbish, he loses his footing and drops Blake at the base of the bed. Still lying there, unconscious, he picks her back up and searches for another way out.

The living room is completely engulfed in flames. The only way through would be the small patch of flooring just outside the kitchen and making a break for the back door. Running up to the large gap in the floor, he realized he can't make the jump with Blake in his arms. Briefly taken aback, he starts to run again. He draws his arms into himself and tosses Blake across the room and into the kitchen. She slides, and comes to a stop just before the dining room table. The mysterious man backs up, gets a running start, and jumps. The floor underneath him gives way and he falls into the floor. Immersed and overcome by smoke, his hand grasping the edge of the floor, holding onto an exposed piece of wood. He starts to pull himself up, coughing and losing his grip.

One finger at a time, he starts to lose strength as his hand begins to slip from the wood. Just before he gives up, his last three fingers gripping the wood as tightly as he can, another hand reaches into the broken floor pit and grabs a hold of him, pulling him into the kitchen.

"Figured you could use some help," says the man with a grin.

"Jesus Christ, it's about time Clemmons. I lost comms when the flames got too high," says the mysterious man. "Get Blake and take her to safety. Alex is in the front yard."

"Yeah, I saw him. Let me get you on your feet first Commander," says Clemmons.

"Still calling me that huh? Iraq was a long time ago buddy. How many times do I have to tell you, call me Nate," he says while being lifted to his feet. "Now, get her to safety. I can't let them know about me."

Clemmons kneels down and tosses Blake's body over his shoulder. Carrying her out the back door, and taking one last look back at his partner.

"Good luck man. You know I'm always here for you," says Clemmons, walking away.

Running through the backyard, Clemmons climbs the fence and places Blake gently down on the other side. He jumps over, picks her back up and places her next to her son against the Black SUV.

Blake starts to wake up, coughing and gasping for air. Clemmons places her on her side and rubs her back until she's able to breathe again.

"Alex! Where's Alex?" she says panicked.

"He's right here. He's okay. He's fine. He just passed out, but he'll be okay," says Clemmons, brushing the hair out of Blake's face.

"Who are you?" Blake asks.

"I'm Clemmons. Harold Clemmons actually," he responds.

Alex starts to wake up, holding his head with the palm of his hand.

"My head is killing me. What happened?" Alex asks with a tired voice, still coughing.

Blake wiggles her way over to her son and wraps her arms around him.

"Some guys broke in looking for something and the house caught on fire. If it wasn't for this man here, I don't think we would have made it," says Blake with tears in her eyes.

"No need to thank me ma'am. But you're quite welcome. I'm just doing my job," says Clemmons.

"Your job?" Alex asks with a curious look.

Clemmons looks up at the smoke pouring up towards the moon in the sky. "Your father hired a group of us to watch over you after he disappeared. We got word on some movement on one of his previous cases and tracked the contact to this house. Once we realized it was the house you two were living in, we had to move quick. The people who are after you, aren't after you, they're after what you have. A gold stopwatch with a chain. It has some information inside of it that they're looking for. Do you know where it is?"

Alex clenches the golden watch inside the pocket of his yellow jacket.

"They? Who's They?" Blake asks.

"Your husband's old employer Harrison & Harlen Tech, they think you guys have some information they're looking for regarding your husband," Harold says.

"So, all of this, for some... some watch?" Alex asks curiously.

"Not just any watch. This watch has coordinates inscribed on the inside of the casing," Harold responds.

"Coordinates? What do they lead to?" asks Blake.

"I have no idea, only your husband knew that. Well, him, and the company. He didn't share that information with anyone."

The distant sound of sirens perks Clemmon's attention as he helps Alex and Blake to their feet.

"Your Aunt Linda didn't make it out of the fire, but someone else did. I didn't see their face, but I will catch them, don't worry," says Harold Clemmons.

Harold helps them into the back of the black SUV that they were once so terrified of.

"We are going to get you into a safehouse until we can guarantee the safety of both of you," says Clemmons as he shuts the door.

Blake wraps her arms around her son and pulls him in close. Alex cuddles his head up against her and drifts off to sleep.