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.