One Year Later….

Shawn walked into Lassie’s office, Gus following along behind him.  A lot had changed since last year; since Shawn had found out that his CIA partner and contact turned out to be an arms dealer and all around bad guy. 

Chief Vick went to San Francisco to be chief there.  Lassiter was named the new chief of the SBPD; his dream job.  Juliet followed Karen, becoming her head detective in the homicide division.  Shawn still wasn’t used to the emptiness of the house they had shared. 

The new head detective hadn’t arrived just yet.  She would be arriving next week.  By the look on Lassie’s face, Shawn knew he wasn’t that happy about it.  He had wanted to keep the team together, too.  But the mayor wouldn’t allow it.

Shawn’s dad had sold the house to Lassie and Marlowe and their new baby, Lily; who was born in a food truck just last week.  He didn’t want to admit it, but Shawn felt like his entire life was falling apart.

He looked over at his best friend.  At least Gus was still here.  He had no intention of moving away or getting married.  He’d even quit his other job.  Although, lately Shawn had noticed his friend had packed on a few pounds.  Those eating sprees were getting to him.

Yes, a lot had changed, even him.  Ever since Juliet moved, he’d been thinking, more and more, about possibly closing up Psych and moving up to San Francisco with Juliet.  He’d also been looking at his grandma’s ring much more than usual as of late.  He hadn’t told anyone, not even Gus, that he felt it was time.  He was ready to propose. 

Of course, he had other issues at the moment, which was why they were standing in front of Lassie’s desk, waiting for whatever they’d been called in for.

“Spencer, Guster, glad you could finally make it.  I called you about an hour ago,” Lassiter said with his exasperated tone; the one he only reserved for the two private detectives.

“Well, we hadn’t eaten yet, so when you called, Lassie, we stopped for some jerk chicken and pineapple smoothies from Jamba Juice,” Shawn said, looking over at Gus for collaboration.

Gus nodded, “Yeah, we can’t solve crimes on an empty stomach.”

Lassiter sighed, “Well, I should’ve been more specific on who I wanted.  Guster, I know you tag along with Spencer like a lost puppy, but this is really only for him.”

Shawn and Gus looked at each other then back to Lassiter.  The look in the new chief’s eyes said it all.

“No,” Shawn stated.

“What?” asked Gus.

“If it’s what I think it is, there is no damn way I’m taking it,” Shawn said firmly, his face serious.

Lassiter raised an eyebrow upon seeing the rarely appearing Serious Shawn Spencer, but continued, “It’s from the CIA.”

An standard sized envelope was being held out by Lassiter, words scrawled across the front in very familiar handwriting.  Shawn hesitated, looking at Lassiter with serious eyes.

“Tell them I left the city and you won’t ever hear from me again.  I don’t need this anymore.  I quit.  I signed the papers and everything.  I made sure of it this time.  I even have the papers to prove I no longer am an agent,” Shawn stated. 

Gus gave his best friend a nod, but curiosity got the best of him.  Without waiting for a move from either Shawn or Lassie, he grabbed the envelope and tore it open.  The words across the front had read “For Spence’s eyes only”.

Shawn gaped at his friend’s audacity, “Dude!  What part of “My eyes only” didn’t you understand?”

“What do you care?  You’re no longer an agent, remember?” Gus asked.  He looked down to read the note, but Shawn snatched it out of his hands.

“Hey, you don’t care, remember?” Gus said, snatching it back.

“I care about you, Gus!  There’s no need to read the note, now give!” Shawn demanded, grabbing the note.

“No!” Gus said, pulling on the other end.

The two bickered back and forth, pulling at the note.  Lassiter watched the two fight for a few seconds, then decided the note had enough.  It was starting to tear.

“KNOCK IT OFF!” He shouted. 

Shawn and Gus jumped at Lassie’s bass voice, dropping the letter simultaneously.  It floated slowly to the floor, landing softly between the two detectives.

“Spencer,” Lassie started, his voice returning to normal, “Pick up the letter.  It was dropped off over an hour ago by an agent.  They said it was a matter of national security.”

“Lassie, they always say that.  Everything in the CIA is a matter of national security,” Shawn said, picking up the paper. 

Looking down, Shawn reluctantly began to read the letter.  After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence between him, Gus and Lassie, Shawn looked up and shook his head.

“I don’t believe this,” he said, more to himself than his audience.

“What?” Gus asked.

Shawn sat down in one of the chairs across from Lassiter, sighing and running his hand over his face.  This wasn’t happening.  Of all the things that were already falling apart, this was something he never expected, but was sure it wasn’t good. 

“Spencer, what does it say?” Lassie asked, snapping Shawn out of his nightmarish daydream.

“I’m being called back to Washington, D.C.,” Shawn replied quietly.

“Why?” Gus responded.

Shawn looked up at his best friend and shook his head, “I can’t tell  you that, Gus.  Top secret.  I’m surprised they even left the note with you, Lassie.”

“We didn’t,” came a voice from behind.  Gus and Shawn turned to find Agent Clara Sanders standing there, her brown hair now cropped short and her eyes shining behind her glasses.

“Clara, you’re behind this?” Shawn asked, holding up the note for a split second.  He dropped it before Gus could read it.

“Afraid so, Spence.  Well, actually, the head of the CIA is,” she answered.

“The President?” Gus asked in astonishment.

Clara nodded, “The one and only.”

Shawn sat back down in the chair, shaking his head.  This was just too much for him.  The letter; the official letter, indicated that he was to be reinstated effective immediately.  The word that hit him: Mandatory.  He couldn’t say no; no matter what the cost.

Clara looked at him with a sadness, “I know this is a lot to take in, Spence, but you know the rules.  Plus, you know you have to do this alone.  No help from anyone.  Not us and not them,” she said, pointing to Lassie and Gus.

“Why are we out of the loop?  We were given clearance last year by Spencer himself,” Lassie said.

“That was temporary and essential to the case at hand.  Your clearance level has been dissolved.  Sorry, Lassiter,” Clara stated.

“Chief Lassiter to you, Agent Sanders,” he said, giving her his best dirty look.

“Right.  I’m sorry, but you can’t be part of this at this time.  Spence, come with me.  We need to leave for D.C. immediately,” Clara said, motioning toward the door.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes, Clara,” Shawn replied, not moving out of his seat.

“Don’t make me pull rank on you, Agent Spencer,” she warned.

“Please.  I was in longer than you were.  I have more seniority, remember?”

Sighing, Clara shook her head, “Fine, but you’ve got five minutes tops.  After that, I’m dragging you out of here kicking and screaming if I have to.  Clear?”

“As crystal,” Shawn said, smiling.

Clara rolled her eyes and walked out the door, closing it behind her.  Shawn turned toward Lassie and handed him the letter.

“This is totally against protocol, but you need to read this, let Gus read it, then burn it,” he said.

“What’s going on, Shawn?” Gus asked.

“Not sure yet, Buddy.  If I’m being reinstated and it’s mandatory, then there’s serious trouble.  If you two are not supposed to know, then it’s even bigger trouble.  I can’t warn Jules or even Chief Vick.  You’ll have to do that, Lassiter,” Shawn said.

He looked up and nodded, “By the looks of this letter, I’ll do it now.”

“No, not until I’m gone.  If you call now they’ll intercept the call and you won’t get through.  Nothing will happen right now.  Wait until tomorrow,” Shawn said, holding down the receiver that Lassie was about to pick up.

Clara came back in at that moment, a scowl on her flawless face, “Shawn, you did realize that we bugged the office, right?  We just heard everything out in the car.  Lassiter and Mr. Guster, I have no choice but to place you two under arrest until such time as Agent Spencer is escorted from the premises and has left the State of California.”

“Wait!  They don’t need to be arrested.  They won’t do anything.  I can promise you that these two will uphold the laws and stay quiet.  Right, guys?” Shawn asked, covertly winking in Gus’ direction.

Gus picked up on it instantly, “Yes!  Of course.  No need to put us under arrest.  We don’t even know what’s going on.  Honestly!  Right, Chief?”

Lassiter gave Gus a funny look, but then realized what the two were up to.  Play the CIA for fools now, then get to the bottom of this unorthodox reinstatement after Shawn was gone.   He stood up.

“By the power vested in my by the City of Santa Barbara and the SBPD, I solemnly swear we will not take action unless deemed necessary,” he worded carefully.

“That will not happen, Chief.  It won’t be necessary to involve civilians in a National matter.  Come on, Shawn.  Let’s go.”

Clara grabbed Shawn by the arm and began to drag him out.  Gus and Lassie heard him ask if they could stop for a Jamba Juice on the way to the airport.

Gus turned to Lassie, gave a nod and walked out the door without a word.  Lassiter looked down at the letter, re-read it, then stuffed it in his desk.  He could already tell this was going to be a long week, at least.

Shawn shifted uncomfortably in his seat next to Clara.  They were already on the small jet that would take them to LAX.  His eidetic memory flashed to the letter he’d left behind with Lassie and Gus.

            Agent Shawn Spencer

            Badge # 1132495

            Status: Re-Instated

You have been reinstated as an agent in the Central Intelligence Agency effective immediately.  Agent Clara Sanders will escort you back to Washington D.C. to be debriefed on the reasons for your recall.   Your status has been reactivated as Top Secret Security Clearance Level 1.  Your presence in D.C. is MANDATORY!

            President Harold

Short and to the point, but hardly a letter he was used to getting.  ‘Of course,’ he thought bitterly as the plane took off, ‘Seamus usually wrote my letters.  At least he had a way with words.’

Clara looked over at Shawn, silently questioning why he left the CIA in the first place.  It was never in his file about his reasons.  She was certainly curious about it. 

“Spence?” she asked.

Shawn turned to her, not exactly wanting to speak, “Yes?”

“Why’d you leave the CIA?”

He froze.  That was a question he was not prepared for.  So, instead of stumbling through the reason, he sighed and turned his attention back out the window.

‘Okay, never mind,’ she thought and began to text her immediate supervisor about their departure.

Meanwhile, back at the Psych office, Gus had opened the top, locked drawer of Shawn’s desk as he’d been instructed to do so on just such an occasion.

Shawn had been sure that he was no longer part of the CIA, but had already told Gus what to do just in case something like this happened. 

Inside the drawer was a key; One of those old skeleton keys.  Gus picked it up and grabbed it tight.  Shawn had been pulled away, unceremoniously dragged back to the CIA, and Gus had a plan on what to do.

Out behind the Psych building was a broken piece of siding that Shawn refused to get fixed before his double life had been exposed.  Now, Gus knew why.  He moved the piece of siding carefully, making sure no one was around to see what he was about to do.  There, behind the piece of vinyl, was a keyhole.  Gus slid the key in and turned it around three times exactly. 

He heard a click, indicating he’d done it correctly.  Looking around, Gus saw no one nearby.  He pulled the key, which had become a handle and a panel opened. 

It opened just wide enough for Gus to squeeze through. ‘Why is this tighter than last time?’ he thought as he pushed his way in.  He made a mental note to see if the hinge was stuck, but later.  He had a mission to accomplish.

Shutting the panel, Gus felt around for the light switch.  He felt the nub and flipped it up, revealing a room full of computers and equipment.  He’d seen it before, just once, a couple of years ago, after Shawn had come back and settled back into their normal routine. 

‘Some of these computers may need an update, but I’ll have to work with what we have,’ Gus thought as he started turning them on. 

He bustled around for a few minutes, typing in password after password to get through the security Shawn had set up.  Gus was the only other person that knew the codes.  Sure, they would’ve been pretty simple for anyone that knew Shawn (how many ways could you change the word pineapple, anyway) but since no one but Gus and Shawn knew about the secret lair, it didn’t exactly matter.

Lassiter, meanwhile, had already contacted Karen and Juliet up in San Francisco.  He didn’t tell them why, but he did say that it was urgent that they get down to Santa Barbara ASAP.  He’d already looked around his office and found the bugs the CIA had planted before calling, but he figured they might still be listening in on his phone.

‘That’s what irks me the most about those higher ups in the CIA.  No matter your record, they don’t trust you,’ he thought as he waited in the office.  He knew it would be a while before Karen and Juliet would arrive, so he grabbed a finished case file and began to look over the reports.

That’s when two men walked in, not even knocking on Lassie’s doors.  The chief looked up and instantly recognized them.

“Agent Sky and Agent Samson.  You already missed Spencer and Agent Sanders.  They left about twenty minutes ago,” Lassiter said angrily.  Of all the interruptions…

“What do you mean by that?  We came for Spence,” Agent Sky said.

“Agent Sanders left with Spencer after someone delivered a letter from the President of the United States.  I’ll admit, I read it, and it clearly states that Agent Sanders is to escort Spencer to Washington, D.C. immediately,” Lassiter said, now looking up at the two agents.

“What letter?” Agent Sky asked.

Lassiter couldn’t help but notice the urgency in the agent’s voice.  He opened his drawer and took out the piece of paper, handing it to Agent Samson, who was closer to his desk.

After a moment of looking it over, the two agents looked at Lassiter with wide eyes.  Agent Sky spoke first.

“Chief Lassiter, this isn’t a letter from the CIA.  The President, while head of the main offices, does not send orders to us.  The head of our department does.  Agent Samson, here, is the new head of our department.  We were in the area to see if Spence wanted to go get something to eat,” he said.

Lassiter stared at the agent in disbelief, “You mean he hasn’t been called back?”

“No.  Spence made it perfectly clear he didn’t want to be an agent anymore.  We wouldn’t call him back for any reason unless he specified he wanted to return,” Agent Samson said.

“So, if you didn’t call him back, and the President didn’t re-instate Spencer, then who did he just leave with?” Lassiter asked.

Gus had finally gained access into the system.  Before Gus and the others ever found out about Shawn’s days in the CIA, the pharmaceutical rep would’ve never guessed that his best friend knew much about computers.  Truthfully, he wasn’t a genius at them, but Shawn was extremely good at programming them. 

‘And locking them when you really need to get in,’ he thought, remembering a few times Shawn had changed Gus’ password to something impossible to guess. 

On the screen was the familiar Psych logo.  Shaking his head, Gus clicked on a file named ‘Untitled’, then clicked on a document that was simply named ‘Gus’.  Attached to the document (which was just a jumbled mess of letters) was a video.  Gus clicked play and was surprised to see a recent (very recent, as in possibly two days ago) picture of Shawn appear. 

“Buddy, if you’re in the lair, then something’s happened.  I can’t be sure what exactly has happened.  Maybe you’re the only person left alive on Earth.  I may have been killed by a poisoned pineapple.  I may have…” Shawn said.

Gus shook his head.  No matter what, Shawn using humor to diffuse a situation would never change.  He turned his attention back to the video.

“…may have been bitten by a radioactive spider and now I keep disappearing and coming back with lame excuses,” Shawn said.

“Man, Shawn,” Gus said aloud.

Shawn sighed in the video, “Okay, okay, Gus.  Obviously, if you’re watching this, then something happened that involves my past in the CIA.  I haven’t told you because I didn’t want to worry you, but I’m guessing a letter was sent to Lassie’s office saying I was re-instated.  Gus, I know I was never good at the truth, but…” Shawn started.

Gus tilted his head, ‘He knew about the letter beforehand?’

“I’ve been getting these strange phone calls for a few days, now.  They’ve been asking for my old codename, Victor Lighthouse.  When I tell them Victor is dead, they reply with not yet, but he will be, then they hang up.  I called some old contacts and they were going to look into it, but right now, which is April 16th, I haven’t heard back from them.  You need to get in contact with Bryce Sky and Irving Samson.  You might remember them from last year.  If I’m not telling you this personally, then something has happened.  I’m counting on you, Gus.  In a way, I’m making you an honorary agent for the CIA.  I’m giving you top secret access to some hidden files on these computers that are supposed to be for an agent’s eyes only.  Read them, memorize them and then delete them from the hard drive.  Here are the codes you’ll need to get in…” Shawn said.

Gus paused the video for a moment to take in what he’d heard.  Shawn hadn’t been called back.  He’d been kidnapped!  Now, it was up to him and Shawn’s old team to find him and bring him back safe.  Gus steeled himself, because this meant he’d have to go into stealth mode. 

‘Hit the Jackal switch,’ Gus thought as he grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, then clicked play again.

“Oh, and Gus, no Jackal switch,” Shawn said as the video played.

“What?” Gus said, then tsked.

Lassiter was still in his office, but now about twenty cops were in with him.  He had put a BOLO out for a Clara Sanders and for Shawn Spencer.  Agent Sky and Agent Samson had debriefed Lassie, and now he was directing his troops.

“So, you have the description of the possible kidnapper, and you know what Spe…I mean, Shawn looks like.  Remember, Clara is a dangerous woman.  She will stop at nothing to complete her mission, whatever it may be.  Do not approach her without backup from your fellow officers,” Lassiter said. 

After the officers left, Lassiter looked at the agents, “The only problem is, whatever information my men get, it’ll be past info.  By what you’ve told me, Spencer and this Sanders could already be on a plane to God knows where.”

“Which is why we need to put in a call to our team back in D.C.  Lassiter,” Agent Sky started.

“I know.  I can’t be involved because it’s national security,” he said, gritting his teeth.

“Actually, I was going to ask if we can use your phone,” Bryce finished. 

Embarrassed, he nodded and handed them the phone receiver.  Agent Sky dialed out to the team in D.C.  At that same time, Lassiter’s cell rang. 

Looking, he saw it was Guster.  Thinking the other detective may have some sort of info, he excused himself from the agents and went into the conference room to answer.

“Lassie, I was instructed to call you and tell you that Shawn has been taken by,” Gus said.

Lassiter interrupted him, “I know that already.  Clara Sanders, a.k.a. The Black Widow,” he stated huffily.

“The Black Widow?  Wait a second,” Gus said.  Lassiter could hear him typing on a keyboard for a moment.

“The Black Widow, former NSA agent named Clara Sanders.  Last known whereabouts, London, England in a correctional woman’s facility for first degree murder,” Gus read.

“Where’d you find all that, Guster?” Lassie asked.

“Um, I can’t tell you right now.  But, I can say that Shawn is definitely not heading to D.C.  He’s most possibly heading toward London,” Gus answered.

Lassiter didn’t know why, but he fully believed Guster, “England.  I’ll inform Agents Sky and Samson,” he said.

“They’re there?” Gus asked.

“Yeah.  I guess they came to have lunch with Spencer.  Why?”

“Because,” Gus said, “They know what’s been going on the last few days.  I’ll explain when I get there.  Don’t let them leave, please!”

Before Lassie could tell Guster not to order him around, the detective hung up.  Lassiter looked at the phone, blinked, then closed it.  He turned and went back into his office, where Agent Sky was finishing up a phone call.

“All right, Denise.  We’ll meet with you in D.C.  Yeah, bye,” he said, then hung up.

“Chief Lassiter, we should be going soon,” Agent Samson said.

“Irving, right?  You and Bryce can’t go anywhere.  I have it on good authority that you two may be in deeper than you’re letting on,” Lassiter said, crossing his arms over his chest.

The agents looked at each other and shrugged.  Bryce looked back at Lassiter, “What are you talking about?”

“What’s been going on the last few days with Spencer?” Lassie asked, a look of determination on his face.  No matter how he felt about that brown haired psychic, he knew it was his duty to help the man out of, what sounded like, a dire situation.

Shawn slowly opened his eyes.  He didn’t know when he’d fallen asleep, but it felt like he had been in the same position for hours.  He looked at his watch, seeing it was now eight o’clock at night. 

“Wait, what?” he said, shaking his watch.

“Problem, Spence?” Clara asked, sitting next to him.

“My watch.  It says it’s eight P.M.  If it really was, we’d be in D.C. already,” he said, tapping on the face of the watch.

Clara giggled, which sent a cold shiver down Shawn’s spine, “There’s nothing wrong with your watch, Shawn.  It’s eight P.M. all right.”

Shawn blinked and looked out the window.  Expecting to see land, he gasped as all he saw was water.  They were over the ocean.

Slowly, he turned back toward Clara.  The look in her eyes said it all, and he dropped his head back against the rest. 

“I’m not re-instated, am I?” he asked, already sure of the answer.

“No.  That, obviously, was just a ploy.  We’re on our way to Merry Old England.  But that’s just a pit stop.  We’ll be boarding another plane after, heading to the Congo.  There, we’ll be leaving you to die.  Oh, and just to make sure you don’t remember your way, we’ll be drugging you constantly.  If you don’t die from the exposure to the elements of the Congo, the drugs will kill you.  Now, nighty night, Spence,”  she said, presenting a needle.

“Wait!  Before you put me down for that nap, why don’t you tell me what you’ve been up to?  Why did you turn against the NSA?” Shawn asked.

“I’ll give you the same treatment you gave me.  I asked you why did you leave the CIA, and you just chose to ignore it.  So, I’ll do the same.  Good night, Shawn,” she said as she plunged the needle into Shawn’s neck.

“Ahh!  Ouch!” Shawn cried. 

Minutes went by, and Shawn could feel the effects of the serum making its way through his bloodstream.  He tried to fight the sleepiness, but after what seemed like hours; but only ten minutes later, he fell into a deep sleep. 

Clara smiled, then removed her wig.  Her long, blonde hair fell over her shoulders.  She removed the glasses and then the contacts that had changed her eye color from blue to green.  Her blue eyes shined with accomplishment.

“Too bad the real Clara Sanders is dead.  Don’t you worry, Shawn, everything will be just fine.  Or my name isn’t Amanda Tenses,” she said, giving him a gentle kiss on his head.  She walked toward the front of the plane, grabbed a parachute, then jumped out the plane. 

Gus had arrived at the SBPD, angry and upset at the other CIA agents that were still standing in Lassie’s office.  Halfway over, Gus had called Lassie, and the Chief of Police said they had clammed up.  They hadn’t spoken a word since Lassiter asked them what had been going on with Shawn.

Arriving at the door to Lassie’s office, Gus took a deep breath and let it out slow.  He didn’t want to barge in there.  He was, technically, one of them.  Shawn had said so.  Gus wasn’t sure about the protocol, but he knew he wasn’t truly an agent.  But, he was trusted; by the one man Gus trusted with his life. 

“You son of a…” he started the minute he opened the door.  Lassiter grabbed him.

“Guster!  Calm down!” Lassie said, restraining the detective.

“They know!  They have to know what’s going on!” Gus practically shouted.

Agent Sky and Agent Samson looked at each other, their hands on their holsters.  Turning back to Shawn’s friend, Bryce slowly advanced on Gus and Lassie.

“Look, Gus, we don’t know beyond what you know.  We’ve been looking for days into who was calling Spence,” he explained, holding his hands up in defense.

Gus held up the files he had printed out from the lair, “According to this, Clara Sanders died in prison two weeks ago.  Now, unless she was a ghost, that’s not who has Shawn.  If you had actually been looking into things, you would’ve told Shawn, who would’ve known not to leave with the imposter!”

Bryce stopped his advance, his mouth opening and closing in wordless conversation.  Lassiter growled.

“Is that true, Agent Samson?” he asked of the quieter agent.

Irving looked to Bryce, then back to Gus and Lassie, “I wouldn’t know.  Gus, don’t you think, with Shawn’s abilities, that he would’ve known it was an imposter?”

Gus’ heavy breathing stopped.  He realized Irving was right.  Shawn would’ve known, no matter what.  He would have seen any telltale sign of an imposter.  Shawn’s hyper-observant gift would’ve seen through any disguise.

Lassiter thought it over.  Sure, he never believed that Spencer was a psychic, but he was a great detective.  Plus, he was trained in the CIA.  Spencer would’ve been able to detect a fraud.

Meanwhile, Shawn was still in a deep sleep.  He heard nothing as the plane began to descend over the Atlantic.  He didn’t know that Clara was dead, and it was someone named Amanda that had killed the pilot and changed the plan. 

He didn’t hear the roar of the engines as the plane fell from the sky; over a small island that wasn’t on any map. 

He didn’t feel his arm break or his head get smashed into the window as the plane crashed onto said island. 

Shawn stayed fast asleep as blood poured from his head.  He stayed asleep as one of the engines exploded, sending him sprawling over sandy beaches.  He stayed asleep as the water washed over him, carrying some blood away every time the swell retreated back to the ocean.

No, Shawn never felt any of that.  He was in the middle of a dream, where he and Juliet were swimming in Hawaii on their honeymoon, letting the warm waters of the Pacific wash away all their cares.

Gus had finally calmed down around that same moment.  He didn’t know that his best friend had just been seriously injured in a plane crash nearly 5000 miles away. 

Agent Sky had already said what needed to be said.  There was no doubt that Shawn had to have known that ‘Clara’ was an imposter.  Now came the hard part, finding out who was impersonating the former NSA agent.

“We could have a list miles long with all the enemies Shawn gained over the years.  From members of Al Qaeda to scorned women.  Shawn, contrary to what you know, was not a popular guy with the ladies or the enemy,” Agent Sky said. 

“Sometimes he’s not very popular with Lassiter,” Gus admitted.

“He does have a tendency to go over his superior’s head,” Irv said, a small smile playing on his lips.

“The problem at hand is that we need to find out who did take him, though.  The police won’t find anything, it’s obvious that you two couldn’t find out anything that would’ve been helpful to Shawn,” Gus listed.

A knock came to the door at that time, which was answered by Lassiter bellowing for whoever it was to come in.  Appearing in the doorway was a petite woman with short, red hair dressed in casual business attire.  She looked directly at the agents before speaking.

“I have a message,” she said shortly.

“Who are you?” Lassiter asked, his hand near his gun.

“None of your concern, Chief Carlton Lassiter.  This message is for Burton Guster,” she said.

“From whom?” Gus asked, bravely stepping forward.

The woman presented an envelope, “From a very powerful person.  Someone you should be afraid of,” she answered.

Gus stopped with his hand in mid-air.  He looked toward the agents, then toward Lassie.  All three men nodded.  With that, Gus quickly took the envelope from the woman’s outstretched hand.

Carefully, he opened it up, noting that there was no substance inside.  There was, however, a ticket stub and a note.  He pulled them both out and looked over them.

“Burton Guster,” the woman said, “You have been warned.  Stay away from things you don’t understand, or you’ll be next.”

“That sounds like a death threat.  The SBPD doesn’t take to kindly to death threats against one of their own, Miss,” Lassiter said, pulling his weapon.

The agents followed suit, “Neither does the CIA,” Bryce said, his weapon aimed at the woman.

The woman smiled evilly, turned and walked out without flinching.  Lassiter holstered his gun and yelled for her to be arrested.  Ten officers ran after the woman while Lassiter looked at Gus.

The eyes of the pharmaceutical rep were wide with shock.  Lassiter grabbed the note and read it outloud.

“Mr. Guster.  This is your only warning.  You are now marked.  If you stay involved in this case, you will be killed, as was…”

“What?” Irv asked.

Lassiter looked up, “As was your friend, Agent Shawn Spencer.”

Groaning, Shawn moved carefully, feeling every inch of his body ache.  His head was pounding, his right arm was on fire and he could feel blood oozing from his side.  He didn’t remember anything after Clara had smiled. 

That smile, though.  That should’ve been the clue that made him make a move.  He knew from the start that the woman wasn’t Clara, but the note she’d slipped into his hand made sure he followed along. 

“Say or do anything to warn your friends, and I’ll kill your father and mother,” it had read.  He had nonchalantly read it and threw it in Lassie’s trash before being dragged out of the SBPD.

Shawn went to get up, only to fall back down in pain.  His right leg was broken.  Sharp, shooting pain flared up in his side as he fell back down.  He cried out in agony.

He lay in the sand, looking up at the sky above.  The clouds were building in the northwest, a sure sign of trouble with the heat he was feeling from the sun.  A storm was brewing, and a nasty one at that.

Meanwhile, back in Santa Barbara, Henry struggled against the ropes that held him to his ex-wife and the chair he was in.  He grunted, pulling against them, but sat back in disgust.

“Henry, stop pulling.  You’re just making them tighter,” Maddie said with a sigh.

“Maddie, I have to get us out of here.  I heard them talking,” he started.

“I did too.  They said they were going to make sure Shawn was out of the picture, then take care of his friends and family.  You think Shawn is all right?” she asked, fear in her voice.

“I don’t know, Madeline, but I sure hope so.”

Lassiter paced; and paced, and paced.  He was waiting for Karen and Juliet, who had gotten caught in traffic outside San Francisco over an hour ago. 

Gus had left, saying he had something he had to do.  He hadn’t said anything about the secret computer room at Psych to Lassiter or the agents as of yet.  He didn’t want to blow his own cover just yet.

‘Although I technically am not an agent,’ he thought as he entered the computer room twenty minutes later. 

Gus began typing in the passwords to gain access to the CIA database.  When he was in, he typed in the name Clara Sanders. 

He began reading about the turncoat agent, from her beginnings and how she shot up the ranks in the NSA to her sudden demise and being thrown in prison. 

Lassiter watched as his former boss and his former partner walked in, their eyes wide with worry.  Juliet was the first to speak.

“Carlton, what’s happened?  You sounded rushed and nervous on the phone,” she asked.

He looked around, making sure they were alone.  Carlton closed the door to the office and straightened his tie.

“What is going on, Carlton?” Karen asked.

“Ch…Karen, O’Hara, it’s about Spencer.  He’s been kidnapped,” He said shortly.

“What!  Kidnapped?” Juliet cried.

“He was taken earlier today by someone claiming to be an agent from the NSA.”  Carlton said.

Karen and Juliet stood there for a moment, shock registering on their faces.  Carlton continued to speak.

“Spencer’s cohorts from the CIA are already on the case, as is Guster.  I called the both of you in since we’re all connected in one way or another to his past,” he said.

While they talked, Shawn lay still, looking up at the sky.  The storm clouds, thankfully, were moving away from where he was residing. 

‘Of course,’ he thought, ‘that doesn’t mean there isn’t any trouble.  I have to move.’

Carefully, Shawn pushed himself up with his good arm.  He could feel the pain flare up within his bad leg, but he did his best to ignore it.

Slowly, he got himself into a sitting position.  Looking out, he could see a flash of lightning in the distance; and the waves getting bigger by the second.

“Those look promising,” he said sarcastically.

Crawling wasn’t an easy task with a broken leg and a broken arm, but he managed to get a ways inland before the waves started crashing on the shore, taking a piece of metal each time.  Shawn couldn’t even call it a plane anymore.  It was just a pile of scrap metal.

It seemed like hours, but only twenty minutes had gone by before he felt safe from the water and the impending storm.  He turned gingerly and watched as the clouds seemed to shift toward the island.  Of course, Shawn didn’t really know if he was on an island.  Sure, there was the ocean in front of him and it seemed like he couldn’t see anything for miles out over the blue-green water, but he knew that didn’t necessarily mean he was on some island in the middle of nowhere.

Getting entranced by the sights the storm was producing, Shawn fell asleep; hoping he was at least near some pineapple.

Gus, who’d been up all night reading about Agent Clara Sanders, felt he was somewhat an expert on her now.  He felt confident as he walked into the SBPD that morning, knowing he could at least do something to get Shawn back. 

He didn’t believe that Shawn was dead.  Gus knew his best friend; his brother.  Shawn was alive, he was a survivor.

The memories of Shawn getting shot last year replayed in his mind.  They thought they’d lost him for a few days, but deep down, Gus knew.  Shawn was alive.

But then, the first time… the first time Shawn disappeared, when everyone thought he’d been killed; that was a different feeling.  Maybe it had something to do with the elaborate scene, including a body (which Shawn admitted to Gus later it was the body of one Aaron Bronte) but it felt real and final.

Stopping, Gus saw two familiar faces standing inside Lassiter’s office.  Juliet and Chief Vick were looking over files, Lassiter was on the phone, and both agents were in, as well, helping with the files.

‘Good, maybe with all of us working together, we can find Shawn, and quickly,’ he thought as he walked into the office.  He never looked up at the TV screen; in which a reporter was talking about a hurricane bearing down in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

 Lassiter hung up the phone just as Gus walked in.  “Guster, we have word from D.C. that a plane crashed somewhere off the coast.  They tried to hail the plane, but no one responded.”

Gus gulped, but nodded, “Here’s everything you’ve ever wanted to know about Agent Clara Sanders.”

Agent Sky looked up, “Where’d you get all that, Gus?”

“Shawn,” Gus simply said.

“Wait, Shawn’s missing.  How could you get it from Shawn?” Juliet asked.

Gus could see that she’d been crying, “He let me in.  Pineapple’s the word,” he said mysteriously.

Agent Sky and Agent Sampson chuckled while the others gave Gus a look of confusion.

“In other words, you’ve been perusing the CIA database, huh, Gus?” Agent Sky said with a laugh.

“Isn’t that illegal?” Karen asked, giving Gus the once over.

“Not if Shawn did what I think he did.  Gus is authorized to enter the database.  When Shawn was in the CIA, he was asked about any next of kin, should something happen to him,” Agent Sampson said.

“The kid didn’t even hesitate.  He said Burton Guster.  Shawn even said he’d bring Gus inside if he could,” Agent Sky added.

“So, technically, I’m an honorary agent for the CIA.  Until we get Shawn back,” Gus said, handing the papers to Lassiter.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lassiter grumbled.  It was no secret to anyone that Lassie wanted to be an agent; badly.  Yes, being the Chief of the SBPD was his dream, and he was happy now, but just one day in the CIA would suffice.

Gus wanted to laugh, and he could hear Shawn saying something snarky just to make Lassie squirm, but he managed to keep his cool.  His best friend; no, his brother, needed him right now.  Shawn needed help.

Agent Sky’s cell rang, which led him outside to answer.  Not a moment later, he came back in, still talking to the caller.

“Yes.  When did she escape?  Why weren’t we informed of this when it happened?” he demanded.

A pause.  Agent Sky sighed heavily.  Gus could feel the anger radiating off him.  Someone screwed up, by the sound of it.

“Yes, I’ll debrief my team.  You’ll be debriefed in the morning by the Director.  This is unacceptable,” Bryce said, then closed his phone.

“What happened?” Juliet asked.

“Apparently, a criminal Shawn helped put away ten years ago escaped last week from a federal prison in Upstate New York.  Her name is Amanda Tenses.  She was incarcerated for multiple hospital bombings in Texas, Illinois and Michigan.  When Shawn caught her, she swore vengeance.  The guards that kept watch over her say she never lost sight of it.  Every day, she’d claim she’d get revenge on Shawn Spencer,” Bryce explained.

“So, that’s who came in here and dragged Shawn away.  This Amanda Tenses?” Gus asked.

“Yep.  That’s out kidnapper.  She must’ve had some help, because a plane was stolen yesterday from a small airport outside of Santa Barbara.  They can’t locate it on the radar.  They’ve been trying since it took off from the tarmac three days ago,” Bryce answered.

Lassiter growled, “Then let’s get down to business and find her and Spencer.”