Disclaimer: I don't own "Crossing Jordan", or any song lyrics that might appear somewhere in the story.

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The door opens. A stranger enters the morgue. Lily asks him what his purpose is as she hands a cup of coffee to Garrett and another one to Bug, while my father chastises my lateness. The man pulls a gun out from underneath his big brown coat and opens fire. Nigel rushes out of the autopsy room to see what the commotion is about, and he takes a bullet to the chest. The elevator stops, and Woody and I get out, laughing at some corny joke he told, until we see the carnage and hear the screams. Woody and I dive back into the elevator where he calls 911. SWAT shows up and shoots the guy, but by the time the ambulances arrive it is too late. Lily, Garrett, and my father are gone.

Over and over again, the scene replayed itself in Jordan's mind. She and Woody sat in the ICU waiting room, both of them numb with shock.

"This was in your father's hand," the paramedic said, handing me a small package. In it is a silver ring inlaid with a moonstone, and a birthday card. "'This was your birthday present from last year that I wasn't around to give you,'" the card reads. "'Love, dad.'"

A doctor walked out. Woody stood up. "How are they?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

"Mr., ah, Mahesh I'm-not-going-to-even-try-his-last-name is in a stable condition and is expected to make a full recovery. But I'm afraid Mr. Townshend is gone. I'm very sorry."

With his dying breath the shooter cries, "Viva Los Dragones Negros!" "Long live the Black Dragons!" The SWAT sniper had shot him in the neck, so he had absolutely no chance. I want to scream, cry, do something, but I can't. It was as though my mother had just died a second time.

"What did he mean by 'the black dragons'?" Jordan asked.

Woody looked up from the floor, where he'd been staring at since Bug and Nigel were first admitted. "I don't know. Maybe a gang. Does it really matter?"

"Do you know this man?" Homicide Detective Harry Spader asks, pointing at the shooter.

"No," I answer. "I've never seen him before in my life."

Darrell Wallace, Narcotics Detective, approached Jordan and Woody. "Do you know of any way that any of the victims might have had with Mexican organized crime?" he asked, without even saying hello first.

The death toll was nine, including a woman identifying her dead husband's body, with 12 people injured. All of the victims have clean records, and none of them expected this.

Jordan and Woody both said no. "Well, it looks as though this shootings, rather than being entirely random, were a hit orchestrated by a Mexican gang known as the 'Black Dragons'." He flipped open his note pad. "With the principle targets being Garrett Macy and Max Cavanaugh. Do you know these men?"

As Woody and I leave the morgue, a cluster of bloodthirsty reporters bombard us with questions. I can't even tell them apart from one another, let alone answer their questions.

"Mr. V. is awake, suprisingly, and he wishes to see you," the doctor came into the waiting room and said. "Unless you're busy."

"We already gave our statements," Woody said.

"Macy was my boss, and Cavanaugh was my father," Jordan told the detective. "And no, neither one of them were Mexican druglords."

Bug tried to sit up in bed when he saw Jordan and Woody, but instead he only succeeded in pulling an arm muscle.

"Lily!" Bug shouts when he realizes that Lily is on the ground in a pool of blood. "Wake up Lily!" No response.

"Lily," he croaks. "Is she alright?"

He doesn't see the shooter reload. He feels mindnumbing pain in his arm and falls.

"I'm sorry, Bug," whispers Jordan, tears in her eyes for the first time that afternoon. "She's gone."

"I love you, Lily," Bug whispers as the world turns black.

Bug closed his eyes and leaned back, a moan of pain escaping him. A nurse walked in. "I'm afraid you two are going to have to leave now."

The elevator door closes as Max yells, "Jordan!" That was the last time I will ever see him alive.

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Five Days Later...

Jordan knocked on Woody's door. "Jordan? What are you doing here?"

"I'm going to Mexico," she stated.

"What?" Woody blinked. "Mexico? Why?"

"My plane leaves in three hours. I'm on my way to the airport now."

"But- but why are you going?"

"Revenge and answers. They killed my father, and before I kill whoever is responsible, I want to know why."

Woody looked stunned for a moment. "Well then I'm coming with you. And don't try to stop me."

Jordan handed him a plane ticket, and smiled slightly. "I knew you would say that."

Woody and I stand together at the joint funeral, honoring all 9 of the morgue victims. We stand apart from the other mourners, both of us lost in our own thoughts, both of us forming a plan. Vengeance will be ours.

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A/N: More chapters will be coming soon. Please read and review what I have. I hope you like it so far.