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.”