Author's Notes

Wow, 4 views, 2 from china. Shit's gonna be big. Takes place 2 days after the prologue. To Caleb and Gio, in the odd case that either of you find yourselves reading this: I don't know either of you. I told Alrick I needed some people to play roles in this fic, and he told me to put you guys in. I may kill one, or both of you, and just so you know, Alrick requested who I kill first. Now that that's out of the way, on with the chapter.

Chapter 1: Clean Hit

A dim light emitted from the old glass lamp on the ebony night stand. Next to it was Gabriel Knoose-Newton, lying on his bed reading an old book. Gabe was a 26 year old, unenthusiastic war veteran. He served in the United States Airborne division, Easy Company, in Europe for the whole 4 years of the Second World War. Since the end of the war, he had become more and more emotionless. His unruly blond hair was always kept down by a fedora, a seemingly natural choice for a LAPD detective. His mystical blue eyes moved from page to page, lacking emotion, and screaming of boredom. Suddenly his telephone began ringing, echoing loudly down the hall. Dear Lord, I hope this is a case, he thinks as he jogs down the hall.

"Detective K.N," Gabe answered, assuming it was the department.

"We got a body. 5586 Applewood Grove, better get here quick, those forensic vultures are prodding the body already." The operator responded.

"I'll be there in ten," Gabe quickly responded, already hanging up. Finally something to do, he thought.

A few minutes later

Gabe rolled up to the address in his brown Chrysler Town and Country. Forensics vans as well as multiple other police vehicles had already arrived at the scene. He parked the car and got out of his car, checking his watch. 2:00 am? I was up that long? Damn, I need to get sleep…

Gabe walked up the driveway, taking in the sight of the house. It wasn't too large, but it was definitely a nice looking house. The outside was gated with a spiked metal fence. Around the driveway was a garden, leading up to the garage, which was parallel to the house, making it seem larger than it really was. Hard to believe anyone that lived here got into too much trouble.

Knocking on the door, Gabe pulled out his shiny gold badge, ready to show it to whatever poor sap was on duty. "Detective KN," he said, flashing his badge at the officer, who directed him to a door. Quickly, Gabe raised the yellow caution tape covering the door to a large living room. Bookshelves were lined with books, and a nice television sat upon a table. Guy had a nice place. Income must be pretty high. Wonder what his job was. The next thing he noticed while scanning the room was the body itself. Average sized male adult, maybe 23 or so, light brown hair that looked like a rug, lying on the floor face up. A small red hole bore through his forehead, and a pool of blood had formed underneath him.

"Ah, there you are, sorry to wake you for this. Work this early, it's outrageous," greeted Gabe's 4 year partner, Caleb Frattali. Gabe shook his hand with a warm smile.

"You know me, I'm always up for a case. And I wasn't sleeping anyway, caught up in a good book," Gabe replied lightheartedly. " So what have we got?"

"Victim is a 23 year old male by the name of Alex Cohen based on the information from his wallet. 5 foot 10, skinny build, lives alone. Neighbor called it in when she heard a gunshot. Cause of death is a single bullet to the head from close or midrange. Based on the size of the entry wound I'd say it's a handgun, all though it's hard to tell what caliber. Forensics will get that info to us later. No sign of forced entry or struggle from the victim. We also looked for a bullet casing, but we couldn't find any. Forensics will screen for fingerprints, but based on everything we see here, I think it's a clean hit by a real professional. He even managed to pry the bullet from the wall. He doesn't want to give us an easy time."

Gabe made his way over to the body to take a look for himself. Carefully, he tilted the victim's head to the side. The back of his head had a massive exit wound. Bits of skull and brain hung out onto the floor.

".45 acp-Only round that could do this much damage, I've seen more than enough victims of this round back in Europe." Gabe noted, almost to himself as he continued to look at the body. He pulled open all of the victim's pockets, and found the victim's wallet. Taking a look inside, he found nothing of peculiar interest. As he was about to close it and put it back, he noticed a piece of crumpled paper jammed between a small fold in the wallet. Hmm, what's this? The small piece of paper read: 4645

"Hey take a look at this," Gabe said, handing over the piece of paper. "What do you think that's all about?"

"Hmm…not sure. Why would you keep a piece of paper stuffed into your wallet like this?"

"No idea…" Gabe drifted off. This was all he was getting off the corpse.

"I think I'll take a look around the house," Gabe told his partner. As he searched about the house, he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. He met his partner on the way up the stairs. "Anything?" he asked, hopefully.

"Yeah, fireplace was used. Recently. Couldn't have been more than a few hours ago. No reason for someone to use a fireplace in the dead of summer. I suspect the murderer was burning something. Just begs the question, what?" Caleb reported.

"To hell if I know"

They both continued up the stairs. Caleb took a look around the bathroom, and a small room next to it. Gabe took a look at what appeared to be the victim's room. A bed faced the window, with a quaint nightstand alongside it. A coat hanger stood empty by the door. It was a rather bare, clean room. A coat that lay in heap seemed out of place. Gabe picked it up to reveal a lockbox underneath it. Was he trying to hide this? Gabe kneeled down to look at it. It was a relatively new looking thing. It looked strong for its size, made completely of metal. It had a dial combination lock to keep it shut. Wait a second… Gabe thought, what was that number again…

Remembering, he entered it in, and sure enough, it opened with a satisfying click. For a new looking lockbox, it sure squeaked like an old door. Inside the box was a single folder. Gabe slid it out and opened it up.

…Son of a bitch!