Tomo drove the two of them towards the INTERPOL office. She noticed that Neville had his eyes on the dashboard. She decided to ask him a question.

"Was he really your brother?"

"Step brother actually," replied Neville, "But he might as well have been brother, we were very close."

"I, I don't know what to say." Tomo felt bad for Neville. She had never experienced something like this before. Yet she knew that this must be painful.

"Don't worry about me," said Neville, "Just focus on the road. I knew my brother might be killed in his line of work. But he's dead now because someone at INTERPOL gave away a lot of information. When we get there I want to know who did it."

"How can you be sure it was someone at the INTERPOL office?" asked Tomo.

"I'm not sure, it's just a hunch. One that I hope is right."

Smith sat at his chair watching the TV. The images of the event in Indonesia shocked Howard. He'd never really seen what happened when he gave Leroy the information before, and he wished that he hadn't seen this. Bodies littered the streets, mothers were crying with the bodies of their children clenched to their chests. Blood and bullet casings covered the nearby streets. The scene was something Smith would never forget, and it was something he never wanted to forget.

He had become a police officer to help people live better lives. He'd tried to make the world a safer place where children could grow up. Now he was doing the opposite. He'd just made sure almost one hundred children would never grow up.

Smith had given Leroy information for years. Now he was wondering what that information had done. How many other people have I killed? Smith had a deep feeling of regret inside of him. He'd liked the money that Leroy had given him for the information. He'd used that money to take his family on vacations, and to start a college fund for little Joseph. But Smith realized that all that money was tainted. It had all been made off of the illegal dealings of one man.

Smith knew he had to stop helping him. If he didn't he would never be able to look himself in the face ever again. When you look into the mirror you have to like the face that you see. And right now, Howard didn't.

Neville stood outside of the INTERPOL office. He stared at the green lawn in front of him. His mind kept showing him images of the times that he and his step brother had lived in New York. Neville wanted these images to go away, but they wouldn't. Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone, it was Smith. Neville turned to face his friend, but Smith wouldn't look him in the eye.

"Hey," said Neville, "Is something wrong?"

Smith nodded his head. "Yeah, a lot of things are wrong right now. I just hope I can make them right."

Neville gave his friend Smith a confused look.

"That thing in Jakarta," Smith began, "I was involved."

"How?" asked Neville.

"I gave the names of those people away to a bastard," said Smith.

Neville didn't believe Smith at first, but then he noticed his friend's face. His friend had only made that face once before. And that was the time when Smith had nearly killed his sister when he dared her to swim to a lighthouse and back. Neville was mad.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?"

"What was I supposed to do?" asked Smith, "He threatened to kill my family if I didn't cooperate."

"How did he know to contact you anyways?" Neville asked.

"I've helped this guy before," said Smith, "Now I'm starting to have second thoughts."

"Well it's a little too late for that now," said Neville, "My brother is dead because of you!"

"You think I don't know that?" said Smith, "Do you think it's easy to live with the fact that I helped to murder hundreds of people? Well it's not Neville! It really fucking isn't!"

"I hate you," said Neville.

"I can't blame you," said Smith, "But at least I know where this bastard hides."

"You do?" asked Neville.

"Yeah, the dumb ass lives close to Lyon! Boy is this guy an idiot." Smith looked up at his friend Neville's face. He could see anger there, as well as betrayal. "I can give you the address," said Smith, "But you won't be able to take him down on your own."

"I don't do things alone," said Neville, "Gun toting cowboys died out a long time ago."

"Then who are you gonna take with you?" asked Smith, "Your trainee?"

"Yeah," said Neville, "Yeah, I'll take her with me. She's ready, and I certainly am!"

"You'll both be killed," said Smith, "If you can wait just a little while—"

"Why would I want to wait?" asked Neville, "What difference will it really—"

"If you wait until twelve PM Wednesday I can convince the Prime Minister and the President to bring out Groupe d'Intervention de la Gendarmerie Nationale," said Smith, "Interested in waiting now?"

"A little bit," Neville admitted. Groupe d'Intervention de la Gendarmerie Nationale or GIGN was an elite counter terrorism and hostage rescue team that belonged to the French military. Comparable to both US 1st SFOD-D and the British SAS it was well known for the its work. Whether it was helping to regain control of the Grand Mosque in Saudi Arabia, or liberating Air France Flight 8969, GIGN was a force to be reckoned with. Neville wouldn't mind having their help one bit.

"Okay," said Neville, "But after that I'm turning you in."

"Fair enough," said Smith. They shook hands.

One day, thought Neville, one day till I get to stop this bastard.

"What did you and Smith talk about?" asked Tomo.

"We need to go back to the range," said Neville, "There are some more things I need to teach you before tomorrow."

"What's so special about Wednesday?" she asked.

"That's the day that we'll get the bastard who scheduled that incident in Jakarta," said Neville.

"We're going to Indonesia?" said Tomo, excited by the possibility of travel.

"No," Neville replied, "That man is here in France, and my friend Smith is going to tell us where he lives. When we find out where he's from we will storm his house, destroy his home, and then, then we will kill him."