Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: A 'Random Idea' that crossed my mind, something of a Heroes crossover. Comments and feedback are always appreciated.

Hide and Seek - Chapter One

Bakersfield, CA

"I haven't been able to track her down," Hector Vasquez said with a frown. He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a photograph that he placed on the table facedown and pushed across to Hannibal. A waitress passed holding a pot of coffee in one hand, making her way to a booth at the far end of the greasy spoon. Besides the other table the diner was empty of empty of customers.

"How long ago did she go to ground?" Hannibal asked when the waitress was out of earshot. He picked up the photo and gave it a cursory glance before tucking it into his pocket.

"Two weeks ago. We know that Ortega's hired hitmen haven't found her either, because they're still looking for her as hard as we are."

"What did she do? Prior to becoming your witness that is," Hannibal asked.

The waitress, having refilled the only other occupied table, made her way back to Hannibal and Hector. She smiled at the men and began to pour them another round of the bitter tasting brew offered by the kitchen. Neither of the men spoke until she was gone, returning to the counter where another waitress was refilling sticky ketchup bottles.

"She's a nurse. Worked in an ER for the last six years," Hector saw the bemused expression that crossed Hannibal's face. He sighed. There was no point in arguing about it. "I know. A nurse has the FBI at a loss. I don't know how she's managed to stump us all, but I don't hold out faith in her luck."

"Do you have any idea who the mole is?"

Hector's face darkened. He shifted uncomfortably in the booth. "Not yet. But I will find them. They got three good men who were with her at the safe house killed."

"Once we find her Agent Vasquez what would you like us to do with her?"

"Keep her safe, at least until I can sort out our – leak, in the department." A grim smile twisted Hector's face. It was a look the waitress caught and sent a shiver through her body. Later she would take the tip left on their table and stuff it into the charity jar by the register.

"Any particular place?"

Hector shook his head. "Wherever. The important thing is that no federal agent knows where it is. Not even me. When we get this mole I'll be in contact so you can bring her back in."

"You know," Hannibal said, leaning back in the booth and fixing his attention on Hector, "if I was her I would be having second thoughts about testifying."

"Then she'll spend the rest of her life being hunted by Ortega's hired guns. And it won't be a long life."

.-.-.-.

Hector left first, leaving Hannibal alone in the diner. He finished the bitter tasting coffee with barely a grimace, staring at the US15 with its snarl of north bound traffic. This job would pay well but the risk would run high. The colonel leaned back, took the photo from the breast pocket of his jacket and looked at it again. After a moment he sighed and returned the photo to his pocket.

Glancing around he saw the waitresses were giggling over their chores. Upon his departure the federal agent had paid the bill, leaving the wrinkled cash tucked under the salt shaker. Hannibal added another dollar to the meager tip then slipped out of the booth.

Outside he was struck by the savage heat of the California desert. The rental car he'd picked up for the drive to Bakersfield was baking in the sun. Hannibal opened the door and instantly regretted he hadn't left the windows open. The car rumbled into life as he turned the keys in the ignition. He winced as he touched the steering wheel, the sun baked vinyl burning his fingers. He reached for the AC control, turning it on full before pulling his cell phone from his pocket.

"Face? … Get the guys together. We have a job."