A/N: This is a fic inspired by Action B-Movies and Police Procedurals. Author is not American (nor a native English speaker) and will take a lot of liberties in regards of how crime and police organizations work for the sake of plot/drama. Otherwise, have fun.

Pairings will be added later, but romance is a very minor thing in the overall scheme of this fic.

This is the worst day of my life.

That was the thought that went over the head of Matthew Williams as he was stranded on the Interstate 5 in California with a broken-down car, a phone with no battery, and a sun of almost 100 degrees.

Old movies were liars, as whenever he tried to ask for help, all cars and trucks would just speed by. All Matthew wanted was to ask someone to call roadside assistance or to at least take him to the closest gas station to use a payphone or charge his phone.

Perhaps it was karma from moving away from his parents. After turning eighteen, he wanted more space to himself and so decided to leave the cozy parental nest in Ottawa in order to share a small apartment in Vancouver. Once he got his degree, he took his barely functioning car and decided to trek down the West Coast of the United States for a vacation before turning into an office drone.

Once three hours passed by, Matthew was about to give up when a white Corolla came close. The side window came down and Matthew could see a white-haired young man in sunglasses looking at him (maybe an albino?).

"Yo. Car went to better life?"

Matthew was still processing the fact that someone had stopped that he forgot for about five seconds how to make a response.

"Uhh... S-sorry. Yeah. It won't turn on, so I guess it's something with the engine. My phone's dead, so... I just wanted to call 911 or something."

The albino looked over to his own cellphone, which was on a mount next to the wheel and currently serving as a GPS.

"Just give me a moment to park in front of your car and I'll call for a tow truck."

For a moment, despite his atheism, Matthew was sure angels were real and had descended from the heavens to the mortal Earth.

"Thanks a lot, eh."

After calling roadside assistance, the albino man started to play some game in his phone. He was still inside the car, but he kept his window down. Maybe it was because he was an albino. Or maybe the day was a tad too hot. Matthew himself stood outside next to the Corolla and was starting to get fed up with the sun and heat, but felt that it was rude to ask the man to let him inside for a bit of shade and cool air. Curse his Canadian politeness to hell and back.

Feeling awkward with the sound cars and trucks passing by, he leaned close to the white-haired man in order to make small talk.

"Umm... You don't have to stay."

The other man put down his phone to his lap, "Meh, I have a bit of time to spare." He took out his sunglasses, and Matthew tried his hardest to not stare too much at his red eyes. "Besides, if the driver is a loser and can't find where we are, they gonna call me." He said while wiggling his phone.

"I'm really thankful for this. I was really thinking of walking to the closest gas station, even if it was pretty far away."

Matthew paused a bit, and then took out his hand.

"I'm Matthew, by the way."

The other man returned the shake and grinned, "The stunning male specimen in front of you is named Gilbert."

"Hey, if you don't mind me asking... where are you going?"

"I'm visiting a friend in Pasadena. He's cool, but not as much as me, ha!"

"Ah... I was going to San Diego, but... y'know." Matthew said, gesturing at his car.

"Heh, touristing the West Coast from up and down?"

"How did yo-"

"Because I'm awesome."

"Huh!?"

"...and I saw the Canadian car plates."

"Oh."

The awkwardness came back in full force. Matthew had no idea of what else to say without making an embarrassment of himself.

"I'm... um... going to pick up my backpack with my wallet and license. You know, for when the tow arrives."

It was after retrieving his backpack from the passenger seat when he saw the tow truck coming.

Things seemed to go smoothly and Gilbert was just about to leave when a large minivan stopped in front of them. Before he could process what was going on, a young woman with long, blonde hair stepped out of the vehicle. She also carried an assault gun far too large for her frame.

"I'm getting you this time, traitors!"

With that, she opened fire towards them, the driver being the first casualty after receiving one bullet to the head and who knows how many into his body. Matthew was lucky the bullets didn't reach him, since he was too shocked to even think of moving.

The only thing that brought him out of his stupor was Gilbert's screams.

"Take cover!"

He looked in Gilbert's direction and saw the he had opened his Corolla's door to let him in.

"Get in the car, idiot! You wanna be killed!?"

As he went inside, he felt how the gunfire made his heart race faster and faster. His ears were making a tingling sound due to the noise, and because of that, he didn't realize he was shouting when he said

"What is happening!"

"Right now, just put your head down and let me handle it!"

And so he did, but not before he saw how Gilbert was turning on his car with one hand while he pulled out a pistol with the other.

"Holy shit! You have a gun!?"

Gilbert most likely hadn't heard him, since he stepped on the gas with such force that Matthew almost was slammed into the dashboard. At the same time, Gilbert aimed his pistol out of the window and began shooting at the woman and the minivan. Since Matthew had his head down, he didn't see a thing; however, he could make out that Gilbert shot some windows and tires thanks to the noise.

Once the gunfire stopped, he opened his eyes, raised his head and was treated to the sight of Gilbert as he looked outside the window while pulling his middle finger and screaming "Fuck off, you dumb bitch!" to the woman as he drived away.

After that, Gilbert put his pistol in the glove compartment and began to laugh loudly. Matthew wasn't sure if it was out of relief or excitement.

"Hah! That bitch had that one coming. Man, I was great! You saw that, Matt?"

Matthew just wanted to scream.

Or throw up.

Maybe both.

While her sister replaced the tires of the minivan, Natalia got out of the vehicle and approached the run-down car slowly, not even paying attention to the dead driver in the tow truck. The bullets had destroyed the windows, so she had no problem reaching the glove compartment. She figured that they wouldn't leave anything important, otherwise they would have gone back to the car.

Inside the compartment was a pack of gum, a few CDs, the car's manual and the contract of the auto insurance. The contract was signed in Canada under the name of Matthew Williams. So this was another one of Jones' stunts to avoid them. One of the idiots had gotten smarter since Boise, that was for sure.

Beilschmidt and Jones were going to pay for their betrayal and for hurting her dear brother. She would kill them slowly and painfully until the Earth forgot they even existed.

Crumpling the paper with her hand, she walked back to the minivan and told the woman at the wheel:

"Sister, please go after them."

Katya nodded and turned the vehicle back on. Natalia then picked up her phone and said.

"I'll tell Eduard that Jones now seems to be using the alias of 'Matthew Williams'. Next time they will not escape alive."

Arthur Kirkland was drinking tea in the Philadelphia HQ when he received the report of the shooting.

It occurred at 16:27 hours PDT in the Interstate 5, not far off from Bakersfield. At 15:52, Gilbert Beilschmidt had called for a tow truck due to a broken-down car and escaped while he was being gunned down by an unidentified number of persons. Most likely members of the Family. A car was abandoned at the crime scene belonging to Canadian citizen Matthew Williams, age 23. The tow driver, 43-year-old Benjamin Smith, died due to blood loss caused by gunshot wounds. Matthew Williams, on the other hand, was missing.

If Kiku wasn't on lunch break, he would comment on how Arthur's smile resembled more a wicked grin than a real smile. Or perhaps not. He would have definitely thought that, but would be too polite to actually say it out loud.

It didn't matter anyway. This was the best news Arthur had heard since he lost contact with Alfred in Boise. It was a matter of time before the rest of the FBI idiots would take back their mocking laughter.

Arthur picked up his badge and gun before leaving. Kiku could eat his lunch later.

You can contact the author at her tumblr (name's iliamo)

Also available at AO3