I step into the familiar space of our Portland headquarters, the brewery's comforting aroma mixing with the faint scent of electronics from Hardison's setup. Only Nate is here, perched on a stool with that calculating look in his eyes that usually means trouble.

"That was quick," he says, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in that small smile he reserves just for me.

"Wasn't far away," I shrug, crossing to where he sits. I don't need to say more - he knows I stay close, that I've mapped every possible route from my place to headquarters, to each of their homes. Protection isn't just my job anymore.

Nate slides a folder across the counter. "Remember them?"

I open it to photos of John and Molly Connell. Molly's face hits me like a punch to the gut - I can still hear her voice from when I rescued her, scared but brave.

"Is she okay?" I ask before I can stop myself.

"For now." Nate nods. "The Russians he almost sold that chip to are leaning on him hard. They haven't forgotten how we interrupted the deal and got one of their lieutenants arrested."

Cold fury settles in my chest. "It ain't his fault we got involved."

"No, but they don't see it that way." Nate studies me carefully. "He wants you to protect them. Just until he can arrange more permanent security. A couple of weeks at most."

I cross my arms, weighing the danger. "Nate, when Russians don't take it well, people die."

"I'm aware." His voice is calm, but I can read the concern in his eyes. "So, does that mean you're going?"

I meet his gaze, thinking of Molly's scared but determined face, of the promises I made. The team needs me here, but some debts can't be ignored.

"What do you think?"

Nate huffs a small laugh. "I think those Russians better watch out."

But then his expression sobers. "Just...watch yourself. Okay?"

I start to brush off his concern with a joke, but something in his eyes stops me - genuine worry, not just for Molly and Connell, but for me. This isn't just another job, and we both know it.

"You gonna be okay here without me?" I ask, already knowing my answer.

"We'll manage." He leans forward, all pretense gone. "But if you need us, we'll come."

The words hang in the air between us - not a tactical promise, but something deeper. A blood bond. Family.

I give a single sharp nod, closing the folder. "I'll keep in touch."

As I head for the door, Nate calls after me. "Eliot?"

I pause, looking back.

"Bring her back safe. Both of them."

"You know I will," I say, and step out into the Portland afternoon, already calculating the fastest route to Boston.