Here is my latest offering. The story will be long, but worth it I hope.

Please offer me your honest opinion so that I might improve and offer you better and better stories!

I plan to update every Sunday and Wednesday.* (revised from Friday)

Of course, I don't own WH 13 nor its characters.


A manila folder slapped down in front of Pete. His fork stopped halfway up, his mouth hanging open in anticipation of the scrambled eggs that flopped back to his plate. Pete raised his gaze to see his seemingly always frazzled boss throw his bag onto the breakfast table and flop into an open chair. Artie's hair was wilder than usual and his eyes were red and tired and stood out in contrast to his slightly pale coloring that morning. Pete set down his fork. It was obvious to him that they were starting work early that day. From the look of his boss, Pete thought it was going to be a rough day.

"What's this?" Pete reached for the file.

"Case." growled Artie. He reached for the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. Pete casually opened the file wisely giving his boss a minute with his coffee.

Myka entered the kitchen drawn by the commotion of Artie entering the bed and breakfast. She settled into the chair on the other side of Pete looking over his shoulder.

"Sort of a thin file here Artie." Pete shot what he hoped was an entertaining but also concerning leer at his boss.

"Yeah I know." he huffed. "That's all I got so that's all you get." Artie took a gulp of hot energy. "Been at it all night after I got the ping." He said as a sort of apology. The old agent put his elbow on the table and pointed his coffee cup at the file in his agents' hands. "This guy is slippery." He spoke in fragments.

"What guy?" asked Myka. Pete pulled out the only photo in the file. It was a grainy surveillance picture. There was one man circled. He was turned away from the camera and looking over his shoulder. The fuzzy image captured the last third of his face. Pete frowned and handed the picture to Myka. No way they could make an id off of that. Myka looked at the picture and scowled too. They both frowned at Artie.

"I know! I know! It's the best I could do!" Artie wearily apologized. "That's as good as Claudia can get it. And that is the only picture of him." His voice peaked as he stressed his words.

"What? No way. The only picture?" Pete said in disbelief.

Myka chimed in, "What about security feeds? Traffic light cameras?"

Artie rubbed his brow in frustration. He had already been over these options a hundred times already. They would know that, but they had to make sure. His agents were doing their jobs so he swallowed his annoyance. "There's nothing. Not on this guy. This guy doesn't get caught. He doesn't get his picture taken. People don't remember him. He's in and out like a ghost never leaving a trail to follow."

Pete flipped through the file. He knew that Myka was dying to get her hands on it so he flipped slowly. He showed her anything that he found interesting, making sure that she saw it from the chair next to him. "Artie, some of these cases go back years, 5 … 7 years!" Pete showed Myka the last case in the file. Pete raised his eye brows and looked at Myka to gauge her feelings. She furrowed her brow. It was unusual for them to get an unsolved case.

Artie nodded his grey curls. He was still and his red rimmed eyes were thoughtful. "He's had it awhile."

Myka beat Pete to the obvious question. "Had what?"

"Whatever it is that allows us to only have this!" he motioned to the fuzzy photo. "He was in Chicago for 3 days. There are one hundred thousand cameras in that city and this is what we get!" Artie's frustration was apparent. He sighed and tried again.

"This guy, whoever he is, has been around for a while. He never leaves a trace. The feds have been hunting for him for years now but no one knows who he is." The old agent paused letting his brain quickly flash over the facts of the case. "Affiliated with several mob bosses across the country and foreign. I think I can connect him with at least 6 different international events." Artie sighed as he came to his point. "Every time he makes a move someone dies."

Myka was the first to get his point. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Pete just waited for his boss to tell him. Artie slowly and softly said, "I think he's an assassin using an artifact." The weight of his words hung in the air.

Myka grew serious. Artie saw that she came to the same conclusion. Pete's eyebrows slowly crept up his face as he considered the possibilities of what Artie just said. Pete handed the file to Myka to let her concentrate on her strengths and him on his. He leaned towards Artie and repeated for clarification. "An assassin?" Artie nodded.

Pete leaned over Myka and referenced the file quickly. "Artie, uh.. How is … asphyxiation, by chocking on dinner; and this one died of a heart attack… how is that assassination?"

Artie sighed deeply. Pete's question reminded him how inexperienced his agents still were. He lifted his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes as he debated how best to describe what he suspected might be effects of an artifact while still communicating that it was still just his best guess. "That is how this guy operates... and- and why he is still in business. This guy, whoever he is, he shows up and someone dies." He said seriously. "It never looks like a murder. The target will have a heart attack … or fall down the stairs, or choke on dinner, whatever—" he waved his hands, "but they do die and no one suspects a thing."

Pete decided to play along. "Ok- then what would do this?" Artie had been beating his brain all night asking the same question. He shook his head and opened his mouth but Pete continued talking. "What? A- a invisible ring? Ooh- what about that buck skin coat? Lets you walk through walls right?" He looked to his partner who offered him an encouraging look, but Artie shook his head.

"No no, you guys bagged that a while ago now." He answered Pete's next question before he answered it. "It's still in the warehouse. I check it this morning." Pete grimaced. He liked the coat idea.

"Artie…" Myka finally spoke up. Artie could see her that she was thinking hard in the way that her head tilted to the left. "Why the sudden hunt? I mean if he is just a gun for mobsters, why don't we keep collecting information until we have a solid lead on him?" she looked at him thoughtfully and asked. "Why the goose chase?"

The old agent rubbed his hand over his beard and pointedly said, "He killed a United Nations diplomat."

The partners shot each other a look and sat up straighter. They both knew that international political assassins were another thing entirely. Artie continued slowly, "Last week. From Nigeria. In his hotel room. With a full security team on duty. In New York." All three agents knew how serious news like that was. Artie let the new information settle in.

"Listen," Artie signed wearily. "I don't know what he has. But this guy is dangerous. He's top notch. Knows what he's doing. He's had whatever artifact for a long, long time and he knows how to use it." He looked straight at both of his agents. "Be careful on this one."

Pete looked at Myka. They both had the same stoic look of determination. Pete knew they would get this guy. He knew they had to.

Artie stood and dug into his bag as Leena came into the kitchen. Leena evaluated the agents. She stared making another round of breakfast for Artie.

The graying boss pulled out the durational spectrometer from his bag and set it on the table. Pete grabbed at it. "Neat! I'd love to use this in the field!"

Artie barked, "Identification purposes only! This guy is slippery. There's been multiple reports of people only seeing his back as he ran away, or half of his face." He waved at the blurry picture on the table. "If you can find where this guy is, or get a glimpse of him…"

"Then we can use this to see his whole face!" Myka finished his thought for him. Artie lowered his shoulders and nodded with a half smirk at her quickness. Myka tilted her head a bit in thought. "Artie. If we can get close enough to this guy. If we use the spectrometer to get a full face shot…. Can we get a picture of him?"

"No. Unfortunately the spectrometer…. " he really didn't have the energy for a lecture about residual essence versus physical image. He waved his hands. "It's complicated. But no. You'll just have to remember what he looks like."

Artie's stomach asserted its self at the smell of breakfast. He forced his attention back to finish the briefing before he starved, or worse, fell asleep. "Ok! Last location was New York on the 6th. I traced him to somewhere in Iowa." He handed the agents their plane tickets.

Pete flinched. "Iowa? Are there a lot of diplomats and mobsters in Iowa Artie?"

"No… but this guy doesn't stay off the radar by hanging out in big cities. I suspect that he uses the small towns of America to live in until something else comes up for him. He'll blend in."

Myka glanced at her ticket and looked like she was ready to walk out the door already. She and Pete exchanged one of their looks where they could tell what the other was thinking. Artie watched them and waited. He saw their shared determination and smiled inwardly at their partnership. Neither had anymore questions so he shooed them away to pack with a "Keep in contact!" They thundered up the stairs.

The senior agent sat heavily into his chair. Artie stared at his coffee cup, reviewing the briefing in his mind. He wanted to make sure that there wasn't something important that he missed telling them. He had told them every detail that he wanted to and even a few suspicions that he had on this one. Anything else that they needed he would simply have to find. He felt like he started a timer by setting Pete and Myka on the assassin's trail. Artie wished he knew how much time was on that timer.