Sir Warwick Harrow appeared on the screen, surprising Zoe. “Good to see you again,” he said, adjusting his sash a little.

“Sir Warwick. I didn’t expect -”

“Dillon and I are working together on this,” Harrow said. “Have you got any news?”

“We … we’ve found Freya.”

“And?”

“On Whitefall. Wrapped in a tarp.“ Zoe took a breath. “He tortured her, Sir Warwick. For no reason other than to get at Mal. To make him feel …” She was trying very hard not to show the anger and turmoil inside herself, but only someone who didn’t know her wouldn't see it. She shook her head. “He thought he’d killed her, I’m sure of that.”

“But she’s alive?” Harrow’s face had paled.

“Barely. Our doc has her stabilised, but … they damn near broke every bone in her body.”

“Merciful Buddha.” He closed his eyes, offering a swift prayer. “But you’re sure it was Xavier Wing?”

“We know it was.”

“How can you –”

“Just take my word for it.”

“I just find it difficult to believe that even he would go so far as to orchestrate this.”

“We have proof.”

Harrow looked up sharply. “Then the Alliance – ”

“No Feds,” Mal said from the doorway. He stepped onto his bridge. “This ain’t anything to do with them. It’s between Wing and me.”

Harrow stared at the younger man, the total conviction emanating from him, and nodded. “Well, we can discuss that.” He glanced off-screen. “Wing is almost as much of a recluse as his son, but less than a week ago he was on Persephone at his estate. He left at the same time as … as Freya was taken.”

“And now?”

“We’re having trouble tracking him down. He pays a great deal of money to keep his movements secret, but he will surface again.”

“If you have to pay to find him, I’ll get the money to you. Somehow.”

Harrow shook his head. “No, captain. There’s never been any question of that. I’ll be in touch as soon as we hear something.”

“Thanks.”

“And … we’re all praying for Freya, please remember that.”

“Sure.”

The screen went to static and Mal swit