Kyle looked at the dead body, sprawled out like an eagle on the cold lab floor. Heisenberg. For the past five months, the entire nation was in a stir looking for him, and then all of the sudden, he's back. Here. Dead. And as Kyle inches closer, he notices the smallest hint of satisfaction on the dead man's features. Bastard.
"Hey, boss, lookie here." Kyle, still not used to being called boss, walked outside of the lab towards the voice. His team had been at this site for almost twenty minutes now, and everything seemed to be examined. Heisenberg was found, roughly six men lay dead inside, and a M60 swung round and round in the back of a car. Eventful enough for one night.
"What've you got for me, Smith?" Kyle spoke as he approached the pit that Smith and Lancaster were investigating.
"Well, there seems to be dried blood all around here, but its not that old," Lancaster started. Kyle furrowed his eyebrows. Who was kept down here? There was a small mattress, but nothing else filled the makeshift prison. "Oh, hey, boss, we also found this." Lancaster handed him a photo as they climbed out of the pit. Kyle looked at it closely, figuring it was a woman and her child. Was the man down here her husband?
"Jordan!" Kyle barked. "How are those finger prints in the lab coming along?"
James Jordan, a skinny, pale fellow looked up. "Almost got some results, Boss, should be done soon."
"And who's on perimeter duty?" His team looked around at each other, hoping one of others had an answer. Hopeless bastards. "Well, let's go. Someone get on it. McKinnon, you go. Take Smith with you. Check the restaurants, gas stations, cars, anywhere. Don't know exactly what you're lookin' for, but report anything suspicious. But I think everyone involved in this little fight here is dead." His two men nodded and departed. He sighed deeply, wishing that those motherfuckers hadn't murdered Schrader.
Jordan walked back, with a rather weird expression on his face. "So, boss, remember that sleazy Pinkman kid who was wanted a few months ago but flew off the radar?"
"Yeah, what about him?"
"His fingerprints are all over the place."
"Jesus Christ. Try and find out whose blood is down there in the cellar." Kyle squinted his eyes and saw Sanchez waving at him from the clubhouse. He ran into the house and immediately saw Pinkman up on the big screen, talking straight to a camera. He listened for a few seconds, long enough to realize that this evidence could be the most incriminating thing that his team had found tonight.
Kyle grabbed his phone and dialed McKinnon.
"Pinkman. Find Pinkman."