Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.


This chapter is a little disturbing. It's told from the point of view from the bad guy and I can tell you: he's one sick piece of work. Ye be warned.


Smooth Criminal

(James Midnight)

"Please don't kill me," the meaningless little man in front of me squirmed.

"Of course I won't," I laughed. "Yet."

"Why?" If the meaningless little man thought his ridiculous pleas for help would save him he really didn't know who he had in front of him.

"Why not?"

"I've never done you any harm," he pleaded, looking at me with big puppy dog eyes.

"You've never done me any good either," I shrugged, patting him on the shoulder. "At least, not while you are still alive."

"I'd give you anything – everything – if you let me go. Just name your price."

"Do you really think money can save you?" I turned towards him, noticing for the first time he had wet his pants. Pathetic little man. "But now you mention it…..there is something you can do for me."

Relief washed over his face. If only he knew.

"Anything," he repeated, holding his hands up in front of him.

"I need you to accompany me to your workplace."

This was a request he hadn't expected. The pathetic little man looked at me in surprise. "What?" he finally managed to stammer.

"I need you to get your pathetic little ass off the floor, put on some nice clean pants and drive me to the hospital," I explained.

"Why?"

"I thought you'd do anything to spare your pathetic little ass," I snarled. The pathetic little man was starting to get on my nerves. "Stop groveling and start changing."

The pathetic little man bolted to his feet and shot into his bedroom like a comet. I never knew a man could change his pants this fast when held at gunpoint.

"What now?" he asked as we pulled up in front of Forks General Hospital.

"We go in," I shrugged.

"Like this?"

"No you idiot." Seriously. Could anyone get more stupid? "You're going to find me something to blend in a little more and some kind of ID and we're going to pay a visit to your lab."

"Oh." He seemed to realize just now that it wasn't a guided tour of the hospital I was after.

"You are going to walk into the hospital, get me my stuff and come back and you're going to do it quickly and quietly, capice?" I warned.

He nodded, though I could see something in his eyes I didn't like.

"Remember: quickly and quietly," I spat, showing him my gun. "You wouldn't want to spend the rest of your days looking over your shoulder now, would you?" He shook his head. "Or find that sweet old lady next door butchered to death on your doormat one morning?"

The little old lady seemed to do the trick. The little twerp changed back to his former chalky white color and swallowed audibly.

"Thats my boy," I chuckled, patting his shoulder with my gun. "Now go fetch."

He was back in the blink of an eye, carrying what appeared to be a full doctors outfit. I quickly pulled on the green scrubs and lab coat before fastening the surgeon's mask around my neck and pulling my beanie over my hair again. I would change my hat for a surgeons cap as soon as we had reached our destination.

"Time to get going," I stated as soon as I was done changing.

"W-what?"

"It's time for you to show me where you work, you dimwit!" I growled, working my hands into a pair of latex gloves. "So get your ass out of this car and stay no more than two paces in front of me. In anyone asks: I'm your buddie from lab school - or wherever the fuck it is you guys learn your tricks – and you're just showing me around."

We walked into the hospital and on towards the newly built research wing. No one even raise a fucking eyebrow when the little man brought in a complete stranger. God I love this place!

"So this is where I work," the idiot said, fidgeting about with his lab coat.

I had chosen my stage well. The whole place was deserted, most of the lab technicians had gone home for the night. The empty flasks and long deserted tables made the place seem almost sinister.

Perfect for crime.

"Like I give a shit," I chuckled. "Now show me where the Infectious Diseases Lab is."

It wasn't like I didn't already know the lab was just a few doors down the hall. In fact, I could probably give the little man a few pointers on how to get from point A to point B since I had memorized the entire floor plan of the hospital. I just had to take certain…..precautions to prevent the little dipshit in front of me from growing a brain and a pair of balls and alerting security.

"Follow me," he muttered, shooting anxious looks from me to the door.

"Forget about it," I growled. "Don't think I don't know at least twenty ways of killing you without alerting security." I didn't really. In fact I don't think even I knew five but the little idiot didn't need to know that.

I pulled the surgical mask in front of my face again before entering the hallway again. Not that I'd really need it but if one of those goons they called security guards actually decided to do his job and look at the security screen in stead of the game the only thing he'd see was an anonymous masked lab technician and the little idiot.

"H-here," the idiot said.

"Open the door."

He used his pass to get inside and fidgeted about nervously near the doorway as I surveyed the room.

"Where do they keep the samples?"

The idiot's eyes grew huge as he realized what I must be after. He pointed towards a door at the end of the lab. I recognized it from the floor plans. It lead to a little room that held the cryovessels.

"Do you keep some kind of record of what's in there?"

"I-I know t-t-there's s-some kind of c-c-computer program," he stammered. I probably would have felt sorry for him if I wasn't such a fucked up son of a bitch.

"Do you know how to use it?"

He shook his head frantically.

"Well, then I'd just have to figure it all out on myself." I really should have gone with someone smarter. But, then again, how many lab technicians were there that didn't have any kind of private life whatsoever?

Surprisingly enough not that many.

From there on it was remarkably easy. The little idiot was all too happy to give me his user name and passwords after a little gentle – or not so gentle - persuasion and – much to my surprise – the door to the cryovessels was unlocked.

I walked in, grabbed a pair of special mittens and opened the right vessel. After a cloud of white smoke had lifted somewhat I peeked into the freezing cold storage unit.

"Let's just see….." I muttered to myself, scanning the four towers of vials inside. It took some time to figure things out but finally I got what I wanted.

Amazing how something so small would hold my ticket to fame, fortune and revenge. I mean, for something that would be causing total bedlam and devastation these little breakable vials seemed rather unimpressive. Still, it was what I wanted. I quickly put them in the cooler I had brought with me before closing the lid.

As proud as I was of my big master plan it was pure luck that made me stumble on the key to it.

Pure luck and all of the things that son of a bitch doctor Whitlock had told me.

Who knew that ten years afterwards I would be giving his offspring a taste of their own medicine?

Literally.

It would teach them not to stand in my way.

Nobody stands in my way.

No force on earth could stop me now.

Not even Rachel Lee - or Alice Brandon as she called herself now – and her two little friends.

All of them would soon be finding out what it was like to be on the receiving end of my anger.

The sound of the pathetic little loser shifting nervously in his space by the door pulled me out of my thoughts.

Focus James. You have other fish to fry before you get to the grand finale. It's no use to mess up ten years of work just to go off on a daydream.

"Let's go," I spat at him, closing everything back up and removing the gloves from my hand. Before we exited the lab I looked around. Nothing seemed to have been disturbed.

Good.

"Now where do you think you're going?" The idiot was moving towards the end of the hallway where the elevators where located.

"I thought we were done," he whined.

"Idiot." Seriously. At this point I was thinking I was doing the world a favor by killing this piece of crap. God forbid that ever polluted the gene pool by breeding. "You're going to take me to wherever it is you keep your drug supply."

"But…."

"What?"

"We can't go there. There's people in there!"

"Then you're just going to have to think of something to distract them while I get what I want. You wouldn't want me to go on a killing spree now would you?"

"N-n-no." Loser. Did he really think I was just going to go on a killing spree in a hospital pharmacy? I'd end up in a holding cell at Forks Police Headquarters within the hour.

"Then what do I do?"

"I'm sure you can think of something. I don't know…..piss your pants again, try working your charms – if you have any – on someone….." Did I really have to do everything here?

The loser turned out to be pretty good at distracting people with his loser ways and I was able to get the stuff I needed in no time.

Thanks to a little recon operation by one of my girls I knew where everything was located. Poor apothecary never knew what hit him once he'd seen my Vicky coming through the door. She had him lying on his back begging her to fuck him in eight seconds flat and was able to get a good look around while she was at it as well.

"Are you going to let me go now?" the little man asked.

"Sure." No need to ruin his puny little life too soon. We were back in his car now and if he pissed his pants again it would make the trip to our next stop rather unpleasant. "Let me say what we're going to do."

He looked at me like he was ready to start taking notes.

"We're going to drive out to the woods where I leave you and your car in a clearing. Once I'm gone you're going to count backwards from one thousand before you leave. Got that?"

He shook his head so fast I was almost afraid he'd break his neck. Not that I'd be sad to get rid of him but it would mess up my plans. Sure, I needed him dead, but if I was going to keep the Volturi happy his death needed to happen in a way that implicated their archenemies.

It had been so simple to remain under the radar.

Almost too simple.

Who knew that in the town where all of my targets were going to be assembling within the next few weeks there was also a great turf war going on over who ruled the city? The Volturi, a mobster family that had ruled the town for almost a century had been threatened in their position by a bunch of little upstarts known as The Pack.

Of course as soon as I found out I offered my services in helping the Volturi get rid of their little problem, for a nice fee and some even nicer protection of course.

But that kind of shit goes without saying.

I didn't really need the money – I had my own ways of getting some – but being protected by a man that was seen as untouchable had it's perks, even if it meant getting my hands dirty. I don't know how the Volturi managed to get into the position they were in now but they sure as hell had my respect. I swear, that Aro Volturi guy could walk into a police station with a toddler on his dick and still all the cops would ask was if he wanted milk in his coffee.

They were not to be taken lightly but in the end they had been blinded by their greed for domination and easy to fool.

"Turn left here," I barked at the little shit who was still sitting next to me, shaking like a leaf.

"T-t-there isn't a road."

"What use is a four wheel drive if all you're going to so is cruise around over perfectly smooth roads?"

"O-o-oh. Okay."

"Park the car. We're here." I ordered as soon as we had reached the clearing.

"So when do I start counting?" he asked, eager to see the back of me. I couldn't blame him.

"Now," I said.

"Thank you for letting me live," he said and the gratitude in his eyes almost made me feel like a son of a bitch for killing him anyway. I had to remind myself to keep my eye on the price.

I was probably doing him a favor anyway. In a couple of weeks – days maybe – everyone in this pathetic little town would be dead anyway. Why be another nameless figure in a news bulletin when your name could reach the headlines as being the first one to be killed by the great criminal mastermind? The one that had made the rest of it possible? It would probably be the only opportunity for the little dipshit to ever reach the headlines. Too bad for him he had to be dead to do so….

"No thanks needed," I shrugged, reaching behind me to pull my hunting knife out of it's sheath. "Now close your eyes and start counting and if you ever breath a word of all this to the police or even your auntie Margery I'll kill you."

He nodded and squeezed his eyes shut as if to prove to me he wasn't going to peek. Luckily for me – and for him, come to think of it – he didn't cover his face with his hands. It would have made it much more difficult to strike.

With a quick slash I severed both his carotid artery and his windpipe and watched as the life drained out of him quickly and relentlessly.

It was clean cut in more ways than one. Not only did the poor little bugger never know what hit him, the whole thing happened with an almost awe inspiring grace and dignity and in reverent silence.

I felt more than a little peeved about the fact that someone else would be getting the credit for this thing of beauty. It was my work, the canvas on which I had made my mark. I would like to see if those little upstarts from The Pack would have been able to pull of such a masterpiece.

I was the fucking Rembrandt of throat slashing.

As the blood seeped out my victims neck I quickly wiped all traces of me out of the car. Not that there was much for me to do anyway. I had been careful to wear gloves and a beanie while I was in the car but – as my whore of a mother always said – it's better to be safe than sorry.

I took one last look at the clearing before I walked into the woods, pulling out my phone.

The hunter had struck again.

"Volterra investments, how may I help you?" a sickly sweet voice sounded through the receiver.

"Put me through to Mr. Volturi please."

She didn't even ask me who 'me' was. She probably knew, being the receptionist of the godfather of Forks, what was going on in the woods right now anyway. God I love working with proper villains for a change.

"Yes?" a deep booming voice asked.

"It's done."

"Good. Your….reward will be wired over to you as soon as we have proof it went according to plan."

"And the other thing."

"It will be taken care of."

"Are you sure none of the cops in this two horse town is going to grow a brain and start asking around?"

"Believe me," Aro sounded a little peeved at my suggestion. "I have it all under control. You have nothing to fear my friend." He broke the connection after that.

"You're right," I chuckled to myself. "I don't have anything to fear. You on the other hand……."

"What took you so long," a whiny voice sounded from the car that was waiting for me by the side of the road.

"Perfection takes time," I growled as I slid into the passenger seat. I swear that bitch would have ended up in a ditch somewhere weeks ago if I didn't need her for part of my plan. I had regretted taking her on as one of my….assistants almost as soon as I had asked her.

"Will you come to my house after you're done?" she lisped in what was probably supposed to be her seductive tone. "My parents are out tonight and my brother wouldn't recognize good sex when it happened right in front of him."

"I'll be gone for the night," I barked. She couldn't very well expect me to fuck her every night. God that girl was clueless. I had two other girls to please and a very complex and demanding scheme to pull off. "And by the way. I thought you had a boyfriend. Why don't you ask him to do the honors?"

"I think he's going to dump me," she whined.

I was quite sure he would. Not only was the precious little princes whining like a toddler, she was also a lousy lay. I couldn't imagine anyone seeking the company of that if not absolutely necessary.

"Well, then you'd just have to convince him otherwise, don't you," I preached. "Why don't you call him and offer to fuck his brains out. Men like that kind of shit."

Thank God we reached the house of the poor dead little motherfucker or I would have committed my second crime for the night.

"Do you need any help unloading your truck?" she purred, trailing her arm over the inside of my thigh.

Gross.

"Thank but I'll manage." I hopped out of the car, wanting to put as much space between me and Prostitute Barbie as possible.

"Call me if you need me," she shrugged, before winking at me and pulling out of the driveway.

I walked to the backyard where my car was parked and began unloading the equipment. Part of the scheme – the part the Volturi had been most insistent about – was framing The Pack and to do that convincingly little Tyler Crowley needed to become a criminal.

I quickly went to work, bringing my equipment into the house and grabbing a few things I needed for my own little side scheme. I didn't believe my luck when I stumbled upon the little present in the guest bedroom. Who knew Mr. Crowley had been such a model employee that he had turned his own bedroom into a little laboratory to keep working after hours?

I could have ordered all this shit on the Internet but you never know they might be able to trace it back to me. This was just a little unexpected bonus and it also provided me with a perfect way to sully the little twerps reputation.

I quickly transferred the place from an innocent looking home project into a meth lab by bringing in a few things my girls had picked up for me.

After I was done I left the whole place to blow up and waited in my car for the big moment to arrive. Any minute now and the first crescendo of my magnum opus would blow up into the night.

When the explosion thundered through the sky the whole street was soon filled with people, watching from a little distance how the once nice and inconspicuous house slowly crumbled to pieces.

I pulled out my phone again. Time for the second act to commence. I flicked through my contacts until I reached the number that said 'Victoria'. She picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?" she purred. Now that was a woman who could make a mad come just by saying 'hello'.

"It's done." I smiled. "Time to do your bit."

"Any problems?"

"What?" I said. "Did you expect me to fuck up or something?" Only my one true girl could talk to me like that and get away with it.

"Not you," she spat. "The whore."

"Are you jealous?" I chuckled.

"Perhaps," she snarled, not liking the fact that I had uncovered her little secret.

"Then you're just going to have to convince me you're better than them."

"Why don't you come home and let me?"

"Not before you call your former employer. Remember? You've got a job to do."

"I'm a woman," she giggled. "It's all about the multitasking."

"Somehow that does nothing for my ego," I chuckled.

"Like you need any help inflating it anyway." I could almost hear her rolling her eyes at me through the line.

"Gotta go," I said, watching the emergency services tear into the street with a huge display of flashing lights and blaring sirens. Show offs! "Give 'em hell baby."

"Don't worry about it," she replied. "I have a little score of my own to settle with Carlisle and his precious little angels."

I watched the firefighters enter the building to try and put out the fire though there wasn't much they could do, the whole place had gone up in smoke already.

There would be no proof of my involvement.

No clue to what was awaiting the good people of Forks.

As I sat back and watched my plan unfold I couldn't help but allow a smug smile to creep onto my face as I sat back and lit up a nice Cuban sugar to celebrate my first little victory.

I love it when a plan comes together.


OK. So I hope I didn't scare you off with this chapter. It's vile but it's kind of necessary. There won't be much of James' POV in this story but I needed this chapter to build up the main crime plot.

So we've established Victoria is evil and she's working with James. Any guesses on who the other female accomplice is?

For the real movie buff: yes, I used the last name of a Bond villain as James' last name but it doesn't have any bearings on the plot or the crime he is going to commit. Does anyone know what Bond movie had a badguy who's last name was 'Midnight'?

I actually got some help from my mom when I was writing this chapter. She works as a computer programmer at a hospital and she actually made the computer program James uses to find the vials he needed. I used her knowhow to try to stay as close to the truth as I could. Some thing, however, I had to guess at. I hope I didn't make any blatant errors.

The next chapter will be in the POV of Agent Masen (yes, Edward). It will be called 'Electric Feel' and it will shed some light on whether James was able to pull off the perfect crime and what exactly it was that he stole from the hospital.

I will be posting my JasperXRosalie oneshot on Friday (weid coupling I know but somehow it works believe it or not. It's what happens when you write fanfiction while watching 'The Horse Whisperer'). If all goes according to plan I'll be able to update this story twice a week starting next Monday. This one will fill the gap the completion of My Mistakes were made for you left (snif). Updates will happen on Monday and Friday provided I have enough time to write/edit.