-:When the Gun Fires:- A Crime Roll Play :- Open&Accepting!!

[Chaotic_Theoretician]

{{Oh-ho! This puts a whole new twist on things. I think that Eva, Isabelle, Riggs, and Victor would team together to murder the person/people who break(s) the Downa 15 up and fires Kendrick. Hell, Bolton would probably raise hell and use higher authority to re-instate Kendrick........maybe that'd make Kendrick like Bolton better........ xd }}

[Thirteen Broken Hearts]

“Sick with myself, but I've got no one else,
so I give it to myself
it's the only thing that helps
this pain that keeps me from sleeping…"

“…I just wanna say good bye, Disappear with no one knowing
I don't wanna live this lie, smiling to the world unknowing
I don't want you to try, you've done enough to keep me going
I'll be fine for the very last time."

"Don’t you understand by now, I have the money and the power, I can get away with anything including murder,"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxR.h.y.s||Damen

< < C.h.a.o.s > > xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I'd love to indulge your feelings, but I am dealing with a slightly larger picture right now. Now you can exercise your responsibility to help your fellow man or I will exercise that responsibility for you,"

________________________::_Leader_::_Business Man_::________________________

" I am not a killer, I am not a psycho, I am a businessman, everything I do is in the name of business, if someone gets killed it was all just good business,"

Rhys flinched and nearly stepped backwards whenever Victor said that he would not blow Isabelle up. It was the smile that had caught him off guard. But it was also how well the agent knew the man. He would ignite the bomb, but not yet. What the CIA agent said was true.

The business man knew that both Vic and Isabelle were probably wondering at the reason he had sent the woman to Stanley. First reason: there was a good chance that the hacker would talk with Isa, since her personality and demeanor weren’t as harsh as other Federal agents. The main reason though was because he wanted Downa 15 ruined. He had his own spy in D.C. They wanted to shut down the program, reevaluate the agents, and even get rid of Kendrick.

Even Rhys knew what would happen. Most of the agent’s would not pass the evaluation much less not end up in mental institutions. Victor especially. If they could catch him of course. Once Downa 15 was out of the picture, the government would not be able to stop the chaos that would overtake Manhattan and then the rest of New York. But, of course, the French man had to make sure all the agents including Kendrick were killed for causing him so much trouble in the first place. Such a wonderful plan.

Victor startled Rhys whenever he was so easily able to narrow down who Amsera was. His eyes widened in surprise and then darkened once more as the man continued. “Of course I loved her!” he blurted out, the words rolling from his tongue before he could stop them. Inwardly the man shrunk, realizing his biggest mistake. Tears started welling up in his eyes, burning the sockets that no such moisture had touched in decades. His anger flew beyond anything he had ever felt. “She can hate me now, but I was protecting her from this crusade, saving her from such horrors,”

The man’s eyes flashed with pain when he remembered. He had been forced to come to a conclusion. To save his daughter from the tortures ahead or to let some criminal later persuade her into death? She had been one of the one’s he had to cleanse. A child. Rhys looked up at Vic, his anger still high, but the emotion receding from his face. “Cleanse it of the weak, of course,” he said with a smile. He chuckled at Victor’s notion that that he enjoyed being omnipotent, but it was cut short into a hiss when he finished. Chaos within himself? He could control the chaos within, but deep down the man wondered if what the agent was saying was true.

Rhys forced another chuckled from his throat at Victor’s reaction to the ‘bet’. “Because, out of all the pitiful, brainless, desperate people in this god forsaken city, you Victor,” he spat the name, pointing his finger accusingly at Vic, “You are the strongest,”

Victor would know what he meant and he knew that this conversation would end soon. Rhys was soaking wet, upset and ready to kill someone. The man pulled a gun form one of his pockets, the opposite of the cigarette pocket. He looked down at it happily, his eyes glittering with suppressed glee. He almost seemed like a mesmerized child with a brand new toy at Christmas. “I love guns, they’re not as effective as my knives, but good enough,”

Rhys lifted his head smiling again. “No, I never get tired of killing, but I also never wanted to have to kill you,” he said, his voice hardening with every word. The cold steel bit into his hand as he lifted the gun to point it at Vic. His eyes were desperate, but he still felt like a child, forced to throw away his favorite toy because it was only slightly broken. He may have been indecisive about killing Isa, but Victor brought a whole new type of indecisiveness to the table. “Good-bye,”

"I do what I do because I am bored, entertain me long enough and I just might think about keeping you alive,"

" The more you see of the world, the smaller and more dull it seems."

"I like to take a lot of risks and most of them end with a dead body,"

“Maybe I'm just crazy or the devil got inside
Either way my soul is gone, and I'll end this all tonight
The one hand throws the whiskey, and the other throws the gun
As he cries out to the heavens, I am not my father's son…"

“…I swear I didn't want to
and I swear I didn't know
That things like this could happen
to a 17-year old."

{{Oh wow….poor Kendrick…..I’m thinking of how I can get Seth to talk with him…..maybe he can go with him on his walk? *hint, hint* Either way, Sparkles, do you mind if I send Dante towards Eva and Liam or do you think I s should wait? Or should I see if Seth can go with the Director and send Dante after him? }}

[Chaotic_Theoretician]

{{'Kay, for Victor's post, I'm going to have him take a few steps backward and pull out his gun. Sorry, Thirteen, but I'm going to take control of Damen for a split second. Instead of waiting for you to post that Damen shoots Victor, I'll just have Damen shoot him in my post. (And then, of course, everything will go as we discussed.)

...that is, if Eva will ever show up! xp Kidding, Sparkles, kidding.}}

[Thirteen Broken Hearts]

{{That's works wonderfully...}}

[Chaotic_Theoretician]

{{Fantastic.}}

[SparklingBloodRedRoses]

{{Eva's wwwoorrrkkkiinngggg ooonnnn iitttt razz . I know what I'm going to write. I just have to do it. I haven't really been home at all since Thursday. O.o Homecoming week and YAADA training. Ahhhh! Hahaha. I'll get it out shortly, I promise, after I do my homework - probably not until at least tomorrow though....homecoming dance is tonight.

Hahaha. If Bolton stood up for Kendrick in anyway shape or form I don't think he would have any choice BUT to like Bolton. And Katheryn, of course, would rub it in his face ^_^.}}

[Chaotic_Theoretician]

"I'm not a normal person."



____::_______DOWNA FIFTEEN :: AGENT 6_______::____

"I don't...deserve...the things a normal person deserves. I'm not...capable for it, not capable of understanding how to handle it...I'm incapable of being the person I could've turned out to be..."



"I'm not the person that I seem. I'm not really the person people think I am...I'm not the person the CIA thinks I am; I'm not the person the Downa 15 thinks I am. At least, people don't know me on the inside, they don't know the person on the inside...and because the person on the inside is locked up, the person on the outside is not the same one...not the same one..."

|.|CIA|.|

"You don't know me. You don't know what I've been through. You don't know the deeds I've done. Nobody knows...Nobody is going to find out."

_____________________Victor Craddock_____________________
——————Crime Investigator :: Case Examiner :: Specialties — Medical Examination/Case Examination Deductions——————

Victor knew he had hit home as Damen blurted out the admittance of one of his true weaknesses. He shook his head at Damen's next statement as he took a few steps backward, just to give the guy some room. "Save her from such horrors? By trying to kill her? What kind of a father are you?" It was a rhetorical question, one that Victor didn't expect an answer. Again, he shook his head. "The weak, Rhys? Sometimes, it is those who say they are strong that are truly the weak ones. Perhaps the person you should cleanse this city of is yourself."

Victor's expression grew hard. However, he laughed and shook his head, taking another few steps back so he could get soaked more by the rain. "The strongest, you say? You're kidding, Rhys. If anything, the strongest are the other people of the Downa 15. Me?" Again, he chuckled; surprisingly, the sound was light-hearted, if only somewhat regretful. "I don't care anymore, Damen, just you like you don't care about anything anymore either. I am the product of misfortune, the statue that has been carved by the most fiendish of deaths and murders. I may seem strong, but I am a good actor, Damen. Nobody knows the real me, not even you." Victor didn't so much as flinch or tense as Damen brought out the gun and pointed it at him. He took another few steps backward, moving in a way that it looked natural that his hand would reach behind his back, when, however, he was actually making a grab for his own weapon. Victor yanked the weapon from the small of his back, clicked off the safety, and said as he did so, "See you in hell, Rhys Damen."

Damen squeezed the trigger of his gun. Victor's left shoulder jerked backward from the impact of the bullet, and he reflexively squeezed off some shots from his gun. He could see Damen get hit in the arm by one of his bullets, despite the sleeting rain. He stumbled away from Damen's path, clutching at his shoulder. He heard another gunshot, and he yelped in pain as he fell. His thigh throbbed with inexplicable pain; white spots danced in his eyes, and he rolled onto his back, trying hard to keep his torso from writhing. In the corner of his eye, he no longer saw Damen. Victor inhaled shakily, the palm of his hand pressed deeply into his wounded shoulder. The rain pelted his upturned face, the mud and grass beneath him mixing with the blood that seeped from the gaping hole in his left shoulder. Victor clicked the gun's safety to ON and did his best to wedge it into the waistband of his pants. With his right hand, he undid his belt and, with the aid of his teeth, did his best to make a tourniquet around his wounded arm. Light-headedness tickled his mind, and he had trouble seeing and thinking straight. His breathing was labored, ragged. He was starting to get cold.

In the back of his mind, he knew that Damen wasn't going to come back and finish it off. If anything, Damen still needed him for whatever he hoped to continue doing. Damen believed that, since Victor was so much like him, he would be able to rope Victor into being an accomplice or helping him cleanse the city of the weak. But, unlike Damen, Victor could never do that. He had gotten rid of the McCarthy brothers who had plotted terroristic attacks from Germany. He had murdered bad political senators and foreign representatives. The only b*****d left to kill to truly clease the city of the weak was Damen, and, so far, Victor still hadn't gotten his chance.

'And I might not get to at all,' he thought to himself, painfully aware of the danger his wound presented. His left arm had begun to feel numb.

He realized that he hadn't killed Damen. He had only wounded the b*****d. He needed to alert somebody of Damen's presence, of the plan and everything. Victor realized that he had left his cell phone with his gun and badge on his desk at home. Why had he done that? The epiphany came back with agonizing emotional pain.

He didn't want to be found.

Victor choked on a breath of air and did his best to fight off the shivers that were starting to plague his body. His lungs burned. 'So, this is how I end,' he thought to himself, closing his eyes. Images and memories flashed through his mind.

Riggs' crazed laughter...Isabelle's stubborn suicidal-ness...Kendrick's uptight attitude...Liam's apologetic tardiness...Bolton's fatherly love...Drake's antagonistic nature...Eva's smile...the feeling of Eva's lips against his...the way Riggs would actually listen to Victor's suggestions...Isabelle's manic grin...Drake's retorting comments...Kendrick's worry as Victor told him that he has almost been like a parent...the forced and concerned tone in Kendrick's voice...the puzzlement in Bolton's eyes...the sound of Isabelle's frantic voice on the cell phone...Victor's words to Isabelle, telling her, 'What you need to realize is that you are not alone. You have Eva, Riggs, Liam, Director Kendrick...don't kill yourself without thinking about how deeply everybody else is going to take it and how much they are going to miss you'...the smile upon Jaime Lee's face the day before she died...the sunshine that Victor used to appreciate in his life...the happiness he would experience every once in a while...the hilarious, if tenseful, bickering between Kendrick and Bolton...the insane look in Riggs' eyes...the grief that settled down on Isabelle's shoulders that everyone tried to help lift off...the family-like bond between everyone in the Downa 15...

Victor was startled to feel hot tears on his face. He reached up with his bloody right hand and wiped them away, smearing blood upon his cheeks in the process. It was probably better this way. He would probably be found by the cementary caretaker the next morning, dead to the world. Victor suddenly realized that he was lying beside Jaime Lee's headstone, and he reached out to touch the marble marker. His bloody fingers traced the indentations of her name, and he looked back up at the sky, his eyes closing again. He hummed hoarsely for a moment, and his mouth formed the familiar words of a song he used to listen to after Jaime Lee's death.

"'Now that we're here, so far away, all the struggle we thought was in vain, and all the mistakes one life contained, they all finally start to go away...'" He continued to hum the Staind lyrics, his voice growing hoarser and hoarser as minutes went by. He finished the song, and his thoughts drifted suddenly back to the members of the Downa 15.

Riggs saying, 'Where are you going, Victor?' Eva's text, 'Don't do anything stupid.' The hesitation in Isabelle's voice when she digested Victor's words about him not being there much longer...Liam's unexplained absence...Eva's irritation at Liam's inability to answer his phone...Bolton's recognition of Victor's sudden change in attitude and mind set...Riggs' yelling down the hall to some stupid plainclothes detective...the way Isabelle's gaze would unfocus when she reflected on her brother's death...Eva's shaky actions around Victor...

Victor inhaled another raggedy breath and pulled the gun from his belt. He glanced at it through blurry, rain-distorted vision and pressed the barrel slowly to his head, his finger wrapping around the trigger. Would it be better to commit suicide rather than to suffer and let himself bleed away? Victor thought about that for a moment, and words from another song rose up from his throat, though he said them rather than sang them.

"'Please, please forgive me, but I won't be home again. Maybe someday you'll look up and, barely concious, you'll ask no one, `Isn't something missing?` Isn't someone missing me?'" He was speaking aloud to the Downa 15, as though they could hear his words, even though he knew that they couldn't. He was going to miss them all, despite the fact that he tried to deny it inwardly.

The barrel of the gun was cold against his temple, the steel sending shivers down his spine. Victor glanced over at Jaime Lee's headstone again, and he fought for breath again. He knew he wouldn't see her if he died. He had no place in heaven, if there was such a place. For all that he had done, for all the sins he had committed, he would be punished, and he would rot in hell beside Damen when the time came for Rhys to join him in the underworld. Victor's finger tightened around the trigger, and he continued to wonder. He was truly just stalling, in case that, by some slight chance, somebody stumbled upon him and sought help. He sorely doubted it. Victor inhaled deeply again, his lungs gurgling slightly, and exhaled slowly, aware that his life was pouring out of him and getting soaked up by the dirt and grass beneath him. If anything, his blood would linger around Jaime Lee's grave, a lasting moment between the two, one departed and the other soon to follow.

"I didn't believe in relationships, friendships...anything. I hardly talk to my partner. It's been five years now since that incident. I haven't had a friend since...and I think it's affecting me."

_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_GOT A CASE?_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_

"Give me any case, Director, and I'll solve it within a week, no matter how large and elusive. Give me a case that is extremely hard, and I assure you that I'll solve it before the PD and the Government get ahold of it."



"Yet I still wanted to do the job. I wanted to save people, to beat the bad guys. And I'm still here, aren't I? Even with the lead from a bullet still stuck in my left rib from another incident, I'm still here."



"I murdered somebody, a long time ago...and I'm not sure it was even for the right reason."

{{This post almost made me cry. It hurt to write it. I don't know what's going to happen. Part of me thinks that Victor should die, but my love for him says that he's going to live so that all his mentality and beliefs are proven wrong. *smacks forehead* Ugh.

Next week is homecoming week. I probably won't go to homecoming dance, however.

No kidding, huh? I'd love to see that.}}

[Thirteen Broken Hearts]

"I found myself lying in the middle of an alley, no evidence on my clothing to tell me what happened to me and why I can't remember the first twelve years of my life, but hey at least I've got my high school years, right?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxS.e.t.h||D.r.a.k.e

< < S.p.i.k.e > > xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“I have two rules, I drive the car and I shoot the gun, no one else,”

"Undercover Intel Officer"

“I don’t live my life because I’m insane, I just don’t want to get bored by having to sit behind a desk everyday,”

”I tell the boys that work with me not to worry, that’s my job, to worry about the safety of my team,"

Seth noticed the firm grip of the Director’s hand and knew inwardly that the man just wasn’t a desk holder. He would stand behind his agents until he died. That, Seth was perfectly sure of, not only because of the hand shake, but of the annoyed look in his eye at being stuck here while his agents were in trouble.

It was strange to hear a note of concern in Kendrick’s voice. Now that he looked back on it, he had not stopped to think about the dangers of coming back to Manhattan. Bolton had said something was up, he had gotten a tip that Bolton was in trouble and now here they all were. He gave no verbal reply to the comment, only a grin and a shake of his head. He probably was mad, but that was him. One twenty five year old who acted like a kid sometimes because of the missing twelve years.

Seth realized that the conversation was over and he found a place to lean up against the wall. Truthfully, he was starting to get a little bored and annoyed himself. There were too many people in one place at one time. He did not like a lot of people. Especially Federal agents. He worked best pretending to be a bad guy around other real bad guys.

The only he could find to entertain himself at that moment, was to check his gun cartridges. They were all full and he went ahead and refilled his gun. Then there was nothing left to do but lean against the wall and watch every one around him.

It was Director Kendrick that caught his attention. The anger and annoyance in his tone sparked something. He watched the older man’s movements quietly from his vantage point against the wall. Whoever Kendrick was talking to seemed to have brought up a very touchy subject.

And then the man was hanging up the phone call and getting up to leave. Seth didn’t know what made him step forward and yet, strangely enough, he did. His eyes met Riggs’ and then Bolton’s, each for only a second. And then he turned to Kendrick. “I’ll go with you sir,” he replied. The way he said it, he gave no room for argument though he was sure the Director would argue if he wanted to.

Seth did not look at Bolton again. Hell, for once in his career with the C.I.A, he did not care what the DCI thought. He was going with Director Kendrick; he needed to talk with the man before anything else happened. He didn’t know why, he just knew what he had to do. The man had always been run on instinct, it was his true nature.

The agent knew that he was delegating his duty of protecting Bolton to Riggs, but he was sure that the DCI really did not need him there. Just as Director Kendrick didn’t need a bodyguard either, though Seth was sure he had one around somewhere. Both Directors had been field agents before; they knew how to protect themselves. Sometimes Seth didn’t even understand why anyone assumed that when the agents became Directors that they suddenly couldn’t protect themselves.
So with all of this thought over and acted upon, Seth Drake stood by the door gesturing for Director Kendrick to follow.

“To think, I almost made it a whole year without being accused of murder, I’m a C.I.A agent for Pete’s sake, I don’t even really exist,”

”When I'm undercover I remember what the real Seth told me before he died, he told me that I must always remember to keep my face down, keep my guns loaded and never trust a soul...,"

“If you're caught in an undercover situation and they find out your a cop, the best thing you can do is either run or curl up in a ball and take it, you may die, but that's the danger of the job and why the number one rule is don't EVER get caught,”

{{Well....this didn't come out the way I wanted it too. I'm sorry.....I'm a little on the iffy side today. Not feeling well and then just got back from running around at a park for two hourse.

Oh no.....don't kill Victor....that would be like losing the main character of a book and expecting the story to go on as well as before...............}}

[Chaotic_Theoretician]

"Nothing is impossible. You're f**king up my chi."

Stanley Jobson - 10101010101010100001010101011001010001011101111010100010100001110101010101110100010100110101001100101000100100100010001

•_______________•_______________•_______________• Professional Hacker

Stanley listened quietly to Isabelle's words, swallowing the last of his food with a thick gulp. He took a sip of his drink before he answered, his mind racing to come up with an area that he and Night could meet. "There's a Starbucks at the corner of First and Second. But, from the sounds of it, you probably want something more secluded." Stanley pressed his palm into his forehead, trying to remembering obscure places in Manhatten. He hadn't spent much time in Manhatten before. "There's a cemetary nearby, actually. I know it's raining outside, but I think it'd be the best place to talk in private. Not many people would venture out into the rain to visit the cemetary. It's along First and Third."

Stanley pulled out his wallet and laid out a tip for the waitress. He drank the rest of the drink, still holding onto his cell phone, and went over to the cashier. He paid for his meal and stepped outside, switching his cell phone to the other hand so no one on the street could see it. He chuckled. "You've got that right...Isabelle." Stanley was pretty sure that was her name. "But that's only because they never listened to me, and I had to prove that their software was completely hackable, even by an amateur. Sometimes, the government is so stupid - no offense."

Stanley turned down another corner and sought for the familiar cemetary. He turned up his collar to keep the water from running down his neck and down his back. "I'm almost at the cemetary, but I want to stay on the phone, just so I don't lose you." Stanley walked off the sidewalk and crossed the street to Third street. The cemetary loomed before him, and an odd feeling crossed the pit of his stomach. He ignored it, however, and stepped just inside the cemetary, hardly a foot away from the entrance.

"Are you in any real danger?" Stanley asked, looking around. He stepped underneath an overhanging patio-like protrusion of the inner wall of the cemetary, glad to get out of the rain. "It's got to be something pretty bad or drastic if it's on a favor for Craddock," Stanley said, shaking his head. The cemetary, for some odd reason, was getting on his nerves, and he hadn't the slightest idea why. There was something foreboding that tickled the back of his neck; he forced it away and focused on the phone call. "I'm at the cemetary now. How far are you away Miss Nightingale?"

HACKING his Way tHrOuGh Life • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

- 101010100001001101000101101011101010101010100010100001110110110101010100000101001011110110001010101001011100010101101010101001010000 -

"Mess with me and I'll send this little sucker into your database."



"Personally, I don't think that'll be pretty. Before you know it, you won't have anything left of your computer."

[Thirteen Broken Hearts]

“Chairs thrown and tables toppled,
Hands armed with broken bottles,
Standing no chance to win but,
We're not running, we're not running…"

“...There's a point I think we're missing,
It's in the air we raise our fists in,
In the smiles we cast each other,
My sister, my brother."

"I may not be the party girl you were or are, Eva, but I’m much more than anyone could imagine,"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI.s.a.b.e.l.l.e||T.r.i.a.d||N.i.g.h.t.i.n.g.a.l.e

< < N.i.g.h.t > > xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I stood on the edge of a bridge once, ready to jump, the only thing that stopped me was the thought that my brother died protecting me, he put his life on the line a dozen times so that I could live, and so here I am, doing exactly the same thing my brother did, but who am I protecting,"

________________________::_Hostage Negotiator_::_Linguist_::_Downa 15_::_Special Agent #4_::________________________

"I’m not afraid of guns or insane people or drugs, Liam, I’m afraid of myself, what I might do when I hit rock bottom, what I might become,"

Isabelle listened very closely to the man’s every word. It wasn’t that hard, after all, she was all along on an empty street. The only sound was the rain around her. The woman had to keep from laughing at Stanley’s mention of Starbucks. First point, she hated coffee. And second, Starbucks was the worst place to get coffee either way.

The cemetery. The perfect place to meet a guy who was supposed to help you start a mini war. Isabelle sighed and started in the direction she had just come from. “I’m not that far from there, just left he cemetery actually,” she replied quietly, taking another sip of her drink.

Night finally did chuckle. At the man’s comment about the government. “No offense taken,” she replied. In her mind she could not help but think that the government truly was stupid. If they weren’t, the problems in Manhattan would have never started in the first place. People like Riggs and Eva and Victor or even Isabelle herself, wouldn’t have to get hired to save the government’s sorry asses. “I’m still here,” she replied quietly, mulling over an answer to whether she was in danger or not. “Immediate danger, no, but you could say that death is rapped around me like a rubber cord,"

Isabelle tried not to find humor in her crude joke. After all, there was no way that Stanley would even understand it at that moment. Yet she still found it interesting that she could find the words to make jokes about her current situation.

The woman seemed to walk faster with each step she took. She didn’t know why, but it just seemed that way. She could have been going the same speed all the way down the sidewalk, or she could have started running and she would have never known. The rain was starting to blur her vision now, but she could just barely see the sign above the cemetery entrance.

She was just coming up behind a man standing in front of the cemetery when she heard the echo of his question. The woman chuckled behind the hacker and hung up the phone. “I’m already here,” she replied, having to raise her voice to be heard above the storm. The woman stood still, allowing the hacker to assess what he could from her appearance. It might help her if less time was taken to explain the situation. “To make things a little easier, you can call me Night,” she commented quietly.

"Don’t you dare even threaten to kill them, I may come off as oblivious, but these guys are my family, Eva, Liam, Vic….hell even Riggs, I would take a bullet for either one of them, that’s a lot more than I can say about punks like you,"

:_:_:_:_:_:_:_Tell Me Why I Live A Lie?_:_:_:_:_:_:_:

"A lot of people say I’m the bad cop in the equation, but I think I would say that I’m the good cop, I won’t threaten to kill you right off the bat, that’s Eva’s and Riggs job, and Vic will just threaten to take off your limbs one by one, I’m the closest you’ve got to a good cop on our team,"

“I’m not really good when it comes to handling my emotions, Riley, I can be suicidal, grouchy or even loving, but I don’t think I’d ever make a good girlfriend, you should just move on to someone else,"

“Let's watch this city burn,
from the sky lines on top of the world,
Till there's nothing left in her,
Let's watch this city burn the world..."

“…The city looks so pretty, do you wanna burn it with me?
Till the skies bleed ashes and this f****n' skyline crashes.
They catch us with the matches and ignite the flame,
And all the hopes of a youth deemed f****n' insane."

[SparklingBloodRedRoses]

"Whoa, hey, kid. Okay, hold up. No one's going to come near you, okay? We just want you to come out here and talk with us - tell us what you want so that no one gets hurt. There's only one question I want you to think of while you hold that gun to her head; it's the only important one. Can you forgive yourself? Can you live with yourself if you pull that trigger on her?

________________________________L.i.a.m // J.o.s.e.p.h. [[S.i.n.c.l.a.i.r.]]

{{Lee}}___________________________________________

"These agents, they're my best friends, my family, if you're going to blow them up; you damn well better be prepared to do the same to me."

"Federal Bureau of Investigation// Hostage Rescue (HRT)// Behavioral Assessment (BAU)// Downa 15//
Special Agent # 3"

"In my field, you've got to play into the guy's fantasy, believe it yourself, even if you don't, even if you know it isn't possible. He needs to believe you believe it; it's the only way to get into his mind."

“What’s going on here?” It didn’t take a behavioral analyst to pick up on the suspicion in Evangeline’s voice (which she took no time to hide in her sharp tone). Her eyes, resembling that of cold gems, sharpened narrowing as if to pierce through the two men in front of her with them. “Going on?” Liam said with the slightest hint of an inclination in his voice. His face looked innocent; eyebrows lifted up onto his forehead and an almost inquisitorial look in his eye – like he didn’t know what she was getting at. Even he knew she had picked up on the way his eyes had squinted as he spoke, but much to his surprise she didn’t erupt right away.

The female agent before him titled her head, the dangerous sparkle still resting in her eye. Folding one arm across her chest the young woman paced in a quarter circle between the two males in the warehouse, the click of her heel nearly menacing. Although she seemed calm on the outside, an aura of the exact opposite still consumed the immediate field around her. Pausing abruptly Evangeline looked at Mathua in a scrutinizing manor, but spoke nothing. She had to have seen Mathua falter over my shoulder, Liam thought, remembering hearing Mathua stumble behind him – he had only hoped that the informant wouldn’t think himself betrayed….yet again….especially after gaining some of his trust. The sound of Evangeline’s voice broke him from his thought and made him realize that she was, once again standing closer to him than Mathua. Liam’s eyes had followed her as she paced, but paused now that she stood looking at him.

“Why do I have a hard time believing that you’re as innocent as you’re attempting to be?”

On the inside, Liam couldn’t help but smirk, but on the outside he was taciturn – indifferent to her harsh, criticizing tones. “Easy, because you’re sadistic and over critical. You have a hard time trusting any one and anything.”

His co-team-lead’s eyebrow arch and, once again, her head tilted. “I am really, really not in the mood for your smooth talking band-aid cover-ups. All I want to know is what the hell is going on here so I can move on with my life and push you out of sight, out of mind. Got it? Good. So let’s get this ball rolling.” Dropping her folded arm to her side she walked over to stand opposite of Liam. “You have thirty seconds, go.”

“Eva this is ridiculous-”

“Twenty-eight seconds.”

“Mathua’s in a bind. He wants to help us – help Isabelle – but Damen is behind it all…and you know how that goes.” Liam shot a glance back at Mathua, trying to search the other man for any sense of how he took the information he had given Evangeline. He had left out a few details, but just the same, he wasn’t sure how the news would have been taken with the details.

“He’s in a bind?” Evangeline scoffed, “He’s in a bind? What do you want me to do? Sign a script to get him out of trouble? I’m not a school teacher, Sinclair, nor am I sympathetic to the hell-raisers of this world.”

“Only because you are one,” Liam retorted, further making himself a barrier between Mathua and Evangeline. “Just ease up, alright? Cooperation is better than throat cutting…the latter of which seems to be your preference. He admits to what he has and hasn’t done – but that isn’t the point here. The point is that Isabelle is out there, somewhere, with a bomb on her chest and Damen holding the trigger. Mathua has no control over it.” That seemed to give Eva pause. Her pupils dilated, though her lashes did not move. They all knew what Damen was capable of….they all had seen enough of his destruction in the short time they had been there to know. A similar worry, though lessened, to that which filled him appeared to wash through her – but he would be the only one to see it, he could read the slightest twitch of her finger and know what it meant even if she didn’t think he did. It was a pro to being a Behavioral Analyst.

“Fine.” Evangeline let out a deep breath and shook her head. Her eyes closed momentarily and she pulled her cell phone from its protective casing. “You do whatever the hell you want to do with this man. But I don’t want to know about it. I’m ignorant to this whole conversation….this whole situation as far as I'm concerned. I was my hands of it. And if Riggs finds out about this whole shenanigan, it’s your hide – not mine. While you figure out this s**t, I’m going to go let Riggs know you’re alive. You should call him shortly yourself, your dad’s worried – you know how he is.” Once more her emerald eyes flickered between the terrorist and her team mate. He knew that when she said “dad” she was using unofficial code for the Director, leave it too him to be worried over his agents. Sending a lethal glance to Mathua the female marched towards Liam, snatched up the vest and stuffed it in his hands, “When I come back in, this thing better be on.” With that, she exited the warehouse, only to step into the rain.

Sighing deeply Liam ran a hand along his shaved head. Kendrick was worried, Riggs would be eating his a** as soon as he was in range, Isabelle…..Isabelle could be blown….blown to smithereens’ at any moment, Eva…was having one of her moments and Victor….where the heck was he? Turning around to face Mathua he tried his best not to grimace. “She has some issues”. 'Issues' he knew, was an understatement...as much as the understatement in her file that said the only killing she had ever done was on-duty, and that the count was four. Somehow, he didn't believe that.

Wetting his lips his eyes moved around the ware house and looked back at Mathua, his hands wrapping tightly around Gil's keys. Where was Isabelle? Had she tried reaching him in this dead zone? Was she alright? Had anyone found her. His heart, he realized once again, was pulsing at a fast rate. She had to be alright...

"You know I'd give my life for you, Isabelle. No questions asked, no regrets."

"I'm just a normal guy, who grew up a normal kid in a normal neighborhood, raised by a normal mom and his two normal siblings. An accident put my life in perspective, showed me what I wanted to do. Now I have a gun in my hand, a kevlar vest on my chest and a badge in my pocket saying that I have sworn to protect you; even if it takes my life."

[SparklingBloodRedRoses]

"I can't escape this hell
So many times I've tried
But I'm still caged inside
Somebody get me through this nightmare
I can't control myself..."

"....Help me believe it's not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal
Somebody help me through this nightmare
I can't control myself
Somebody wake me from this nightmare
I can't escape this hell..."

"Gil’s been telling stories again, hasn’t he?"

_::_F.B.I._::_

“My file says I killed four people “accidently”, do you want to know how many I really killed?"

“My name is Evangeline McKenzie and I’m an authorized pain in your a**.”

"I just spent the night on an autopsy table; my back has seen better days"____________________________________.|.|.E.v.a.n.g.e.l.i.n.e. A.n.n. M.c.K.e.n.z.i.e.|.|.

.|.|.Eva."Hawk-eye".Kenzie.|.|.______________________________“In my head there are these voices, these people who don’t exist…they haunt me, they talk to me. And it’s not usually good.”

"I’m not getting paid enough for this s**t."
_::_Downa::Fifteen::Special::Agents_::_
“I swore to protect this city, to save it and I don’t care what it takes to do so. I will personally plow down anyone that gets in the way of me doing my job.”

"I don’t deal with emotions like a normal person"
“Inside, there is this bomb just waiting to go off. I’m afraid of what will happen when it does.”

“I’m not stable.”

X_X_X_X_X_X Team Lead.|.|.Field Agent.|.|.Crime Scene Investigator.|.|.Criminal Profiler.|.|.Sketch Artist X_X_X_X_X_X

Stepping from the primarily dry warehouse into the rain sent a cold shock through Evangeline, a momentary shiver occurring as the wet drops first soaked through her white, lightweight shirt. The rain only felt cold for a moment, though, and as soon as she made the decision to numb herself she could no longer feel its affects, although it its affects still occurred. To most the rain would end up being a nuisance, but to her it was a temporary relief….it would feel good before she could not stand it any longer – which wouldn’t take long. She didn’t mind being wet, but she couldn’t stand being damp.

Pushing her wet bangs from her face she walked over to Liam’s silver car, perching herself on its hood. There, at least, she knew there was cell phone service – much unlike the rest of the warehouses. Staring down at the phone’s large screen she was surprised to find three messages – one text and two voice – filling her inbox. Her brows knitted together, for about what felt like the four billionth time that day, and she allowed her thumb to linger on the center button before clicking “accept”. There was hesitation in her press, like she could sense what rested in the mailbox couldn’t be good. Lifting the phone to her ear she curled herself up on the hood of Liam’s car, knees as close to her chin as she could get them while she plugged her free ear with one finger to block out the rain.

Evangeline sat there for a moment or two, processing the words of Riggs’ first message before she went on to his second….her actions even more hesitant. When she swallowed it was slow and thick, every movement taking severe thought….trying to break her from a sudden trance.

‘You’ve got to find Victor. He’s left his hand gun and his badge………doesn’t look like it’s the best influence, if you know what I mean. Find him…something’s not right.’ The young woman pierced her lips together, eyes vacantly gazing across the docks. She had never been one for literature – she had done all she could to fail English in high school – so she wasn’t quite familiar with the title that Riggs had slipped in, but from the tone of his voice she didn’t need to. A lead brick was resting, perfectly placed, in the bottom of her stomach and an eerie chill was making its way up her spine. Both reluctantly and urgently she lowered the phone from her ear, using the keys to maneuver around the screen rather than attempting the “touch screen” application in the water war around her.

‘Night with Dom and Ryan and is searching for hacker Jobson. Drake soon to meet them.’ A bit of relief, though mild and short lived brought color to the agents pale face…at least Isabelle was in good hands. Dom wouldn’t let anything happen to her, if he could help it, and Drake….Spike could do anything he wanted if he set his mind to it. She knew that. ‘Doing the right thing is vital, even if it’s stupid. Some things have to be done, no matter the consequences.’ Her eyes paused, lips piercing once again, that familiar sensation of a lead brick growing. Something about those words worried her….but not as much of as the next. Staring down at the screen – and re-reading the message more than twice - her thumb lingered over Riggs’ speed-dial number, contemplating her next move without really thinking.

Using only one hand she shut her phone, sticking it back into its holder. Her eyes looked over at the warehouse and in the general direction of Gil’s car before she looked down at the car beneath her; her hand coming to rest on its hood. ‘You only bought this thing so you could street race’. Jumping from the hood Evangeline dashed to the warehouse and pushed open the closed door.

“Give me your keys.” She instructed, giving her teammate a bit of a startle.

Liam looked at her disheveled, soaked state and at her outstretched hand before raising one eyebrow questioningly. “Why?”

“Just do it, alright?” She found herself snapping, clicking her fingers in his face. “I need a faster car. Gil’s doesn’t cut it.”

“You came in a car? What happened to your bike?....if you came in a car, use that, it should be fast enough - shouldn't it?”

“I don’t have the ********’ time! Give me your damn keys Liam – or so help me God I will tell Isabelle that you-” Without having to even finish the sentence Liam had placed his keys in her outstretched hand. The fierce fire that had been blazing in her eyes a moment before cooled lightly. From her own pocket she extracted Gil’s keys, placing them in his own hand. A look of satisfaction crossed her face for a split second, before the stone cold look returned. “Don’t forget to call Riggs.”

“Eva! Where are you going?” Liam called after her, but she didn’t answer – she was too focused on the exit. Her teammate’s eyes looked down at the keys in his hand, remembering Gil’s car. Gil’s car. He nearly swore. “Eva!” He called, “Gil’s car is a stick! I haven’t driven a stick since I was fifteen; you can’t leave me here with one!”

“Give it a moment,” Evangeline called over her shoulder without looking back, not really caring much. “It’ll come to you.” Spinning Liam’s key on her right hands index finger she gave him a half-hearted, distracted wave and waited until she was out of view before jogging to his car.

“s**t, Liam, ever heard of gas?” She swore to an invisible Liam after she had pulled onto the main street. The gas tank line lingered dangerously above E. Apparently that had been one of the last things on his mind when he had chased after Isabelle earlier. Pulling her cell phone – which she knew she was going to need sooner or later – from its holder and tossing it onto the gray leather of the passenger seat, she put both hands back on the steering wheel. She really didn’t have time for this crap.

The docks were on the outskirts of the “old neighborhood”…anyone who knew anything about Manhattan knew that the Old Neighborhood was a bad place….but anyone who lived in Manhattan knew that, that was gangland….primarily, it was Dragon land…and what wasn’t, was constantly being fought over.

In the midst of the Old Neighborhood stood the only gas station and market that had managed to stay in business the whole time Evangeline had lived in Manhattan – or at least had dared too. The old gas-mart on the corner of Main Street and 39th belonged to Mr. Gonzales, or at least it was when she had been lurking around. Mr. Gonzales was a stern man of fifty when she had left Manhattan. He held only contempt for children and teens and drew pleasure from landing gang members and troubled teens, like Eva, in solitary confinement. To further more prove his lack of good character judgment, and lack of overall good character, he had been fond of – and respected – Evangeline’s foster family. Now that was a criminal act. If the old building still stood, it was the only gas station around in miles, and the most dangerous of all places to go.

The first thing that could be seen of the gas-mart from behind the other tall ghetto apartments was it’s large red and white neon sign…yellowed and covered in graffiti –even more than she remembered it being. A few miles down the road but a few miles before the high school she had barely attended, would be the school she had attended for middle school, and had walked Dylan and Marcie to every day when she had lived with them. Another uneasy feeling filled her….the feeling of unknowing….not knowing what happened to those two helpless kids without anyone to defend them.

Pulling into the parking lot and pull up to the pump – all of which were still full service – the female agent made sure to do a switch-a-roo of the identifications she had carrying with her. Before she rolled down her window – just a few inches lower than the roof – she made sure she had the right I.D.

“How can I help you, ma’am?” The older male’s voice wheezed through the crack, the smell of cigars and nacho’s too fresh on his breath. He hadn’t begun drinking yet that was his Friday night ritual – as was shaving.

“Fill ‘er up.” She told him, disguising her Hispanic-Italian accent as much as possible behind a fake “American” one. Her eyes focused ahead of her, only flickering to look back at Mr. Gonzales and the gas pump once he had turned away from her. Even now the older man rubbed her the wrong way without doing anything….but it was mainly because of their past. He was a man without a heart and would go out of his way to jail you – which he had done to her, more times than she could count on her fingers and her toes. Half the time, she would admit, she deserved it but there were other times where she could have looked at him the wrong way and he’d call the PO’s on her, or maybe she had snatched something she shouldn’t have – but for Dylan and Marcie – and he’d treat it like she had murdered someone. The thought of murdering him, she wouldn’t deny, had crossed her mind once or twice.

“That’ll be twenty dollars.” Mr. Gonzales told Evangeline, slapping the hood of Liam’s car. The sound made her grimace, but not more than the scent of his breath. Mumbling twenty dollars under her breath she pulled her wallet from her shoulder bag (which she had made sure to stash in Liam’s car before leaving the docks) and extracted a twenty dollar bill. When she handed it to Mr. Gonzales he looked at her, cocking an eyebrow. “I don’t think so,” He told her, “no cash unless you buy something from the store.”

No cash unless you buy something from the store? Did he just want to make her life difficult. Evangeline swore under her breath, knowing she couldn’t use her credit card because the name on the card would just give her away, and tore Liam’s keys from he ignition. Using the same force she had when she had threw Liam’s vest at him she opened the driver’s side door, allowing it to hit the older man unless he moved and then slammed it shut. Wallet in hand she stormed from the silver car into the building – only able to find her way because she knew the area so well. “Are there any other requirements?” She snapped.

He didn’t responded.

Clenching her jaw the female agent snatched an iced-mocha-latte rip-off from the freezer and walked up to the cash register, leaving a trail of water behind her. “Here you are.” She told him, dropping the glass container to the counter without a care. The older man looked at the latte and then up at her, eyes running up and down her face for a moment or two. Catching sight of this, Evangeline scrunched her nose, eyes narrowing. Why couldn’t he just do his job and get it done with? “Can I help you?”

A smirk, evil in the most human of ways, spread across his face along with a look of recognition. “Evangeline McKenzie.”

Evangeline’s heart stopped for a moment, fingers lingering on the dollar bills in her hand – eyes trying to focus on the presidents faces. It took everything in her not to look up at the man with wide eyes, but she didn’t. She waited for a moment and then looked up at him in utter confusion. “Who?” She asked, a bit more kindness was added to her voice on purpose this time.

“Still an actor – you better not be here for no good.” Mr. Gonzales threatened, eyes hardening, “I’ve got the PD on speed dial and after all you have on your record, you won’t ever get out if I charge you right.”

“I don’t know who this Evangeline is you’re talking about,” The female spoke smoothly, “but obviously she sounds like she’s no good. Should I see her, I’ll do my best not to lead her in your direction….not that I’d know her by the sight. I’m not from around here.”

Mr. Gonzales arched his eyebrow, not buying her convincing act…even she knew that. “Not from around here, eh? Then where are you from?” The one thing she hadn’t pre-rehearsed with Kenneth from Computer Intel. Of course, Mr. Gonzales would do everything to trip her up, and leave it to him to ask the one question she hadn’t thought of.

“Listen, sir,” The agitated tone returned to her voice, it was taking everything in her to keep from reaching across the counter and pulling that smug, sinister look from the older man’s face. “I don’t know who this girl is you’re talking about but it isn’t me.” Placing her money on the counter she pulled her badge out from its place on her belt. “My name is Angelina Hoffman, I work for the FBI.”

“Liar!” The man retorted, “You’re name is Evangeline McKenzie. You are a no good, juevinile dillinquent who destroyed the integrity of my store and-”

“Mr. Gonzales.” She snapped, putting her badge away, wanting nothing more than to wrap her fingers around the end of her switch blade. Juevinile dillinquent, trash, good for nothing, there were so many interchangeable nicknames to be given. “I don’t have time for your guessing games. I am on the clock. Swipe the damn drink and give me the bill.” Evangeline didn’t even note the fact that she had slipped and called him by his name.

He seemed to be satisfied with her slip, and swiped her drink. Something about the situation made her uneasy; the entire time she stood there she had narrowed her eyes at the man, paying close attention to his every moves. He appear smug….like he had something on her she didn’t know about – and more than her name. They swapped money for the drink and she made her way back towards the entrance, the bell ringing as she opened the door.

Mr. Gonzales must have caught sight of the tattoo underneath the wet, white shirt because he wasted no time in calling to her. “They’ll be glad to know you’re here.” He told her when she was already half way through the door. The female agent paused in the door way, looking ahead through the sheet of rain for a moment before stepping back and looking at him; a soft, but forceful ‘what?’ exited her lips. A glint that made her want to punch him shown in his eyes, a sick satisfaction of having a blade dangling over her head showed on his face. “The gang, they’re looking for you, you know. They’ll be pleased to know you’re in the neighborhood. I’ll be sure to tell them I’ve seen you – Ms. Hoffman.”

That was it. Something set her off, breaking something inside. Allowing the drink to drop to the ground and shatter she stormed towards the counter, switch blade in hand. Before she knew it, the sharp end was to the older man’s throat and he was against the wall. “How long have they been looking?”

Dryly he laughed, “Ever since the rumors of your arrival began. Or are you referring to before that? They’re mighty pissed, even now, about your leaving…and that tag-a-long friend of yours ratting them out. They think you’re both here. I’ve had to put too many of you low lives in jail for harassing me and even more for disfiguring my store since you've arrived! You all deserve the death penalty for the s**t you put this neighborhood through, pieces of no good trash.”

Leaning in dangerously close Evangeline pressed the blade harder against Mr. Gonzales’ throat. Softly, dangerously, she hissed; “What do you mean before that? What do they know?”

This time, a flicker of fear showed in his eyes, like for a second he wondered if the knife would slip. “You’re foster family,” he croaked, “the Dragons went looking for them after you left. You should rot in hell for what you let them did to them.” Them…he wasn’t referring to the parents that she knew. She would never have to rot in hell for anything she let the gang members do to those pieces of Satan…but to Marcie and Dylan….her hand nearly became unsteady. “They know you’re in Manhattan….both of you...and there are rumors that I don’t know – and if I did I wouldn't tell you anyway – that they know more. But if I were you, I’d watch where I flashed that tat.” Mr. Gonzales coughed, “Might get you killed.”

Leaning her left elbow into the man’s chest she pressed the point of the knife as if to solidify her next threat. Flatly, with the only passion in her voice and eyes being an evil flash, she told him: “If you say a word - just one- of my presence here, or anyone elses. I wouldn’t go sleep to night. I know where you live, where you hang out…and where you work. And I know how to kill.” Lowering her arm she wasted no time in exiting the building, leaving the mess by the door where it happened. As she left she swore she heard Mr. Gonzales dialing a number and paused long enough to hear him raddle off a few gang member names. Ratting her out, no doubt. She would take care of that later.

I don’t have time to think about this. She told herself, mind reeling as she slipped into Liam’s car turning it on. Her hands shook with anger and dangerous emotions. Reaching over to snatch up cell phone she dialed a quick text to Spike. ‘Watch your back. B. Dragons are on the hunt.’ Pressing send she dialed another number, one she hadn’t dialed for a good portion of the time they were in Manhattan. Kenneth Marx was the Computer Intel guy everyone on the Director’s D15 team (and a good portion of all the FBI department used him as well when he could spare the time) turned to when you needed an answer to anything technological or you just wanted to feel like you went to school for sixteen years less than you should have.

“’Ello, you’ve reached the most amazing man ever to grace the Computer Intel department – how may my infinite wisdom assist you?”

“You have caller I.D., don’t you, Marx?” Evangeline asked with no enthusiasm in her voice as she pulled out into traffic. Normally she would have kidded back – maybe even poked fun but all she wanted to do was clench her jaw and find Victor….and maybe murder Mr. Gonzales, if time permitted.

“Only the best, my deadly nightingale.”

“Either you shut up on your own, or I kill you – because honestly, Marx, your blithesome attitude is pissing me off right now and I’m not in one of those “it’s okay to piss me off” kind of moods.”

“Advanced vocabulary? I'm impressed....but honestly, Ev, when are you ever, in such a mood?”

“Marx,” She growled. “I want you to do a job for me but if you don’t think you can shut your yap for five frikkin’ seconds and-”

“Whoa, who, whoa,” The man on the other man cooed,“ease it up, don’t worry - I’m here for you. When have I ever let you guys down? Never. Good. I’m ten times more reliable than that Manhattan Police department.” An added emphasis of disgust was given to “Manhattan Police department”. Kenneth, who aside from Liam and Riggs depending on his mood, had to be the teams only other band-aid and leaning shoulder, had heard lots of stories about the lack of cooperation between the Manhattan P.D. and D15. ‘Who on Earth would have thought they would be so difficult to work with? Usually you guys are the difficult ones.’ he had told her the first time she told him about the P.D., he hated them as much as they hated the D15. “What do you need for me, hun, anything I can do?”

“If you call me hun one more time…” Swallowing dryly she took both hands temporarily off the wheel to rub the bridge of her nose. “I need you to run a survalliance check.”

“On where?”

“Manhattan.”

“All of Manhattan, what the heck am I looking for?”

“Victor,” Evangeline said heaving a heavy breath, “you’re looking for Victor.”

“Do you want to give me a little more to go on, or am I supposed to be flying like a blind bat wearing earmuffs?”

“We can’t find him,” She explained, “he’s left his things at his apartment…phone included…you can’t do this the old fashioned way. You have to prove to me that all of this high-tech stuff you’re always gloating about actually can work...that you can at least get a general vacinity. Can you do that?”

On the other end of the phone there was a paused and a shuffling, it sounded like he had leaned forward. “Left his phone, you say? That makes this harder. Give me a second okay? Don’t bust out a window just yet.” It was another four minutes before she got a respond other than the sound of fingers on a keyboard. His fingers, well adjusted to his keyboard, moved across the keys with great speed. “I’m going to use cell towers to triangulate your position, then I can give you directions.”

“Give me a land mark, Kenneth, anything, and I can get there. Save you breath from giving directions – just tell me where he is.” Plugging her phone into Liam’s GPS Evangeline rolled down her window, to wipe off the side mirror and window.

“Sending you the coordinance – if you aren’t plugged into the GPS you better be now….cell phones and blackberry’s aren’t good for maps. Every time you move it twists another direction….my brother-in-law tried it once…he ended up in Iowa instead of Maryland.”

“I’ve got it,” Evangeline spoke curtly, “it’s not exact but it will do. And Kenneth, stop spending so much time with Gil-” the sudden sound of gun shots made her foot hit the break like rock. The car jostled but she stopped on a dime – getting a few birds in the process. “I got to go.” Disconnecting her phone she pulled over to the side of the road and parked. Her heels were the first thing she tore from her feet – tossing them in her bag before she had even headed in the direction of the shots. It took a few moments, considering the rain, to gather her wits about her – and she lost her sense of direction a few times – but eventually she made it to the cemetery. She only knew it was such by the large wall encircling it. Groping the wall, moving as quietly as she could (not that anyone could hear over the rain) she made her way around the cemetery until she found an entrance. Upon first glance she could see no one around the direct vicinity and decided to slipp inside. No one appeared to have been on the outside perimeter so, unless she had mis-heard and Kenneth's calculations were wrong, the shot would have had to have come from inside the cemetery. The ground underneath her bare feet sloshed, the grass so wet that everything underneath it was mud…the cemetery had never done well when it came to holding up in the rain. It was hard to see far ahead of you in the torrential downpour occurring but Evangeline managed to stay on the carved in paths, following them back and forth all over the place.

She was about to give up when she paused, hearing an odd sound that was barely audible over the rain. Slipping her hand onto the gun on her hip she made her way towards the sound. It wasn’t until she was closer to it that she heard a familiar voice singing Evanescence’s “Missing” close by and the closer she got the more she registered the shape of Victor, injured with a gun to his temple. The lead brick, which she had been ignoring since she left the docks swelled inside - reminding her of its presence. “Vic!” She found her self exclaiming before she could stop it. Her hand had dropped from her gun and she dash the rest of the way towards him, allowing the mixture of mud and blood to seep in to her dress pants as she knelt down beside him. "What're you doing? What's going on? What happened?"

X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X “I know what I’m capable of doing.” X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X

“I'm not the type of person you want to piss off.”

“Something happened down there in that cellar, I don’t know what, but something took part of that little innocent girl inside me that entered it and twisted her into something much, much darker.”

“She lives in a castle made of stone, no one comes and no one goes, she lives in a castle made of stone, there she can’t be hurt, there she can’t hurt, tied down in her straight jacket, there she’s more than she’s worth. Inside her thoughts consume her, memories both faded and vibrant haunt her, driven to the brink...manic inside, angelic outside…she lives in a castle made of stone.”

"...I can't escape myself
So many times I've lied
But there's still rage inside
Somebody get me through this nightmare
I can't control myself..."

"She breathes in
She breathes out
She wakes up
and lays down
She can hardly speak
and so she screams...You're manic, manic"

{{Ugh. So. The quality began failing as I went along but...it's later than I've stayed up in a long time and my brain is dying. Hahaha. It's out, though! So, there. I do kind of wish the conversation with Mr. Gonzales was more intense, I meant it to be...but I had no inspiration. Urgh. Anyway! I was watching the new Mentalist tonight, because I like that show. And Lisbon (the female M.C.) was acting so much like Evangeline it was kind of freaky. O.O}}

[SparklingBloodRedRoses]

"F.B.I."

"...Concentrate on what doesn't lie: the evidence..."
.|.|. Federal Bureau of Investigation .|.|.
"Fidelity, Bravery, and Integrity."
"Are you children well enough finished?" ________________________________________.|.|.R.a.y.m.o.n.d.J.o.h.n.K.e.n.d.r.i.c.k.|.|.


.|.|.Ray.Kenny.John.Director.|.|.________________________________________"You coming? I don't have time to wait for your a** to get over here."

"We look at each case objectively, without presupposition, regardless of sex, creed, color, or bubblegum flavor."

"Question. You come home, see your husband lying in the driveway, what do you do?"

"I never have bad ideas."

X_X_X_X_X FBI Director X_X_X_X_X

"You find some other guy to do my job, go ahead and try. I don't see a long line of people lining up for the job. Do you?"

"It's always good to know what you don't know."

"I am generally a nice, caring, positive guy. Now shut the hell up."

§~§~§~§~§

Raymond would not deny that was taken a bit off guard by Seth offering to go with him. The older man stood there for a moment, looking at Seth, his eyes meeting the younger man’s. Breaking the gaze the Director of the FBI tucked his gun back in its safe hiding spot underneath his jacket in the small of his back. There it was less likely to be seen. ‘I’ll go with you sir.’ He contemplated the way the words were said, obviously leaving little to no room for argument – though being the man he was, Raymond could think of many an argument – but rather more it was strange that the DCIA’s lap dog (as he had heard Victor call Seth Drake more than once) wished to come with the DFBI. What did the boy have up his sleeve?

“Normally I go for my walks alone,” He began, glancing back up at the agent in front of him, “but I suppose some company could not hurt.” What Seth was up to, the Director still wasn’t sure, but he’d play along. As it was, he needed out of that house…he needed distance between he and Bolton – whose mere presence rubbed him the wrong way – and he needed to think. He thought better when he walked, or when he locked himself in his office and considering he only had the first option to use at the moment he decided to take that one.

Over his shoulder Raymond looked at Riggs, if Eva heard about this it would be the death of them both, he was sure. “Don’t burn the place down, alright?” He told his senior agent, an attempt at a smile on his worn face. Somewhere in the pit of his stomach uneasiness churned. Something didn’t feel right about the whole situation…with Victor…with Isabelle…and now that phone call from Katheryn…there were too many thoughts swirling in his head. “I’ll be back shortly, you know my number. If something comes up...call me and if you hear from anyone, I expect to know.”

Looking back at Seth the Director nodded, giving him a half smile – though a brighter one sparkled in his eyes. The older man followed Drake out, his hands finding their way into his jacket. He wasn’t dressed up like he normally was at the office but rather he had a casual jacket on with his khaki’s, and he liked it better that way. “Give me a moment,” Raymond told Seth before he jogged across the street to the parked taxi.

“Broke out of prison, I see.” Richard kidded as he lowered his newspaper and placed it on the seat beside him. “Martin let you go on your free will?”

“I didn’t give him much of a chance to deny me the right.”

“Have you heard from Liam?”

“No,” The Director frowned deeply, “I haven’t heard a word from him or Evangeline….I don’t even know if she’s found him. Nor do I know anything about Isabelle…sometimes I wish I had tracking devices on my agents.”

“That, my friend, would be stalking – and that is a federal offense.”

Raymond couldn’t help but smirk at the smile on his old friend’s face. “A federal offense or not…I think Sinclair’s mother does it enough herself, but out of the kindness of her heart. She always seems to find out that something is going wrong – especially if it has to do with Liam or Isabelle. It’s like she has ESP with her son. Honestly, I’m surprised I haven’t heard from her yet.”

“Sounds like Katheryn, if I may say so myself.”

“Speaking of Katheryn,” Raymond started, leaning down and folding his arms across the open window, “you wouldn’t have happened to have told her where I was, would you have Richard?” His eyebrows rose as he looked at his friend. His body guard sighed, eyes closing in thought. Realizing his suspicions were found true he whined; “Why on Earth would you do that, Richard?”

“She was worried about you, Raymond John.” Richard insisted exasperatedly, “She found out from your secretary that you were in Manhattan, I guess she called for Katheryn’s fax number…and then, obviously, Kate called me. She knew I’m everywhere you are.” Shaking his head the Director’s friend held his finger up in his face, waging it, “Now don’t you be mad with her, Raymond! She was concerned for your well-being. That, and she informed me of what’s going on in Washington. She can help you, Raymond, she did once before…did she not?”

“And nearly lost her job.” The Director reminded with a sigh, “I don’t have time to think about this…I have two agents MIA, one who is out looking for them and the other…the other who is worrying me.” Dragging a hand across his face he rubbed his eyes. “And Washington wants nothing more than to pull the plug. I need to find them, Richard. I need to make sure they’re okay but that’s never going to happen. No one is going to allow it.”

“What do you want from me?” The willingness in his ‘ voice brought a softness to Raymond’s face. A temporary lightness, like Richard had agreed to shard some of the load, filled the Director.

“Would you do a swing around the city?” He asked,nearly pleading, “I know it will be hard to see in the rain, but perhaps-”

“You need not say another word.” Richard smiled, “I’d be glad to.”

Reaching his hand into his pocket Raymond pulled his wallet and plucked a few bills. He calculated possible gas costs in his head and then handed Richard the money – not paying any attention to the fact that his friend was protesting it. “What the heck am I going to do with it?” He laughed, the action dry and not joyful. “If you don’t use it, just hide it. I’m sure I’ll forget I even gave it to you.” Sighing he rubbed his chin, “Perhaps, we are getting to old for this, Richard.”

“Perhaps you are,” Richard kidded, “but I’m as young as I ever was.”

“Isn’t that the sad truth.” Bidding his friend goodbye Raymond tucked his hands back in his pockets. The rain was coming down harder than when he had arrived with Riggs, and it was hard to see through, but it was alright. He’d walk in the snow if he had to – it got him out of confinement. Making his way back to Seth he focused back on the current situation….on Isabelle and Liam’s situation….on Victor….and pushed Washington as far back as he could. “Tell me, Drake,” He asked thoughtfully, “is there any reason in particular you wanted to come walk in the rain with me? Honestly, I don’t know many people who would walk openly in this rain but I could be wrong – you may be one of them…and if you are – or aren’t - please, just let me know.”

Raymond looked down at the concrete slabs beneath their feet for a moment or two before looking up ahead of them. The rain poured down in a nearly solid sheet, the world around them mixing together like free-form water color painting. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Richard pull out and make his way onto main-street. Richard was a good friend and a faithful and loyal worker…he knew he could lay his life in his hands – even if no one, even Richard sometimes, thought so. Taking in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a few milliseconds, he felt the familiar tension in his upper back return.

“These agents are like my family – half of them my children the other half my siblings. I swear to God, you screw with one of them, you screw with me. You screw with me, I'll kill you. So you better think twice.”

“Do you think you’re some funny punk or something, kid? I’m not some back woods cop you can mess with and get away with it. You lie to me and I’ll kick your a**. So let’s start this interrogation again, shall we?”

{{I love four-day weekends...I actually get things done I want to do.}}

[SparklingBloodRedRoses]

{{Ahh O.O I forgot Isabelle's message!}}

[Chaotic_Theoretician]

"I'm not a normal person."



____::_______DOWNA FIFTEEN :: AGENT 6_______::____

"I don't...deserve...the things a normal person deserves. I'm not...capable for it, not capable of understanding how to handle it...I'm incapable of being the person I could've turned out to be..."



"I'm not the person that I seem. I'm not really the person people think I am...I'm not the person the CIA thinks I am; I'm not the person the Downa 15 thinks I am. At least, people don't know me on the inside, they don't know the person on the inside...and because the person on the inside is locked up, the person on the outside is not the same one...not the same one..."

|.|CIA|.|

"You don't know me. You don't know what I've been through. You don't know the deeds I've done. Nobody knows...Nobody is going to find out."

_____________________Victor Craddock_____________________
——————Crime Investigator :: Case Examiner :: Specialties — Medical Examination/Case Examination Deductions——————

Victor's hand tightened around the gun, and the metal barrel pressed painfully into his temple. Through the rain, he heard his name, and his grip relaxed on the gun and the trigger, his brow slightly furrowing as he wondered who in hell was calling his name. In the next instant, Eva slid over to him and knelt by his side, her face looming over him. Victor, his eyes slightly misty, reached up with his unbloodied left hand and touched Eva's face. Her skin felt so cool and real underneath his hand. He shivered, both from the cold and the nasty wound he had taken to his shoulder. His hand was clammy and shaking ever so minutely. He registered Eva's words fuzzily.

"I'm dreaming," he murmured, smiling gaily up at Eva. "I'm still dying here, but I can see and feel you!" His words were slurred and quiet, nearly audible above the rain. "Ha. I always believed that - that this would be the way I'd go...killed by another - and I'm not even on duty." He winced as he shifted his weight and gasped painfully. "Sometimes I hate being right all the time."

His brow creased with puzzlement as he tried to answer Eva's questions. "Damen," he began, nearly choking on the name, "he has the remote to Isabelle's bomb. And - and he killed Jaime Lee, the b*****d..." Victor coughed and spent a few moments gasping for air, his lungs screaming. "He and I...talked...both of us...upset..." Victor swallowed thickly and tried hard not to inhale the downpour of rain. "Pulled out his gun...fired twice...I fired...three times...wounded him in the arm...he got away..."

Victor winced again. He sent a sidelong glance to his gun. "This...?" Victor took the gun away from his head, ever so slowly, and looked at it carefully, as though he weren't sure what it was. "I don't...know what I'm doing," he said, his gaze drifting over to Evangeline's face. His thumb caressed her cheek. "I wanted to end it all," he stated. "I want to be put out of my misery...so I don't have to suffer anymore...no more pain...no more tears..."

The tears...all the pain and misery he had experienced through life...he was just one shot away from ending it all. He looked at the gun again and looked back at Evangeline. Though he wanted to put the gun to his head and pull the trigger, his eyes begged of Eva, 'Take it away. Don't let me kill myself.' That was, of course, if she was real. A part of him told him that, yes, she was truly real. "I've never gotten the chance to enjoy the joys of life," he told her weakly, feeling the blood seeping out both of his wounds. "But, at least, I got to meet you and experience joy for a few moments," he told her, smiling shakily.

"Do you ever wonder if destiny and fate can be changed?" It was a sudden change of topic, but Victor's voice was getting more and more slurred, and his thoughts weren't exactly in uniform order. "'Cause I think my destiny is to die here, with my blood seeping into Jaime Lee's grave..."

"I didn't believe in relationships, friendships...anything. I hardly talk to my partner. It's been five years now since that incident. I haven't had a friend since...and I think it's affecting me."

_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_GOT A CASE?_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_

"Give me any case, Director, and I'll solve it within a week, no matter how large and elusive. Give me a case that is extremely hard, and I assure you that I'll solve it before the PD and the Government get ahold of it."



"Yet I still wanted to do the job. I wanted to save people, to beat the bad guys. And I'm still here, aren't I? Even with the lead from a bullet still stuck in my left rib from another incident, I'm still here."



"I murdered somebody, a long time ago...and I'm not sure it was even for the right reason."

{{Ugh, short! Didn't give me much to work with, Sparkles, not that it matters. biggrin I'm frightened...}}