Two hours later, Geoff was found in the chief of police's office, sat on a chair and feigning calm fury instead of letting on that his shoulder still hurt; the bullet had barely grazed him, he would be fine, but it still stung.
Meanwhile, the chief was slamming his fists on the desk and yelling at Geoff in anger.
"What the fuck were you thinking, going in there without backup after I explicitly told you to leave the case alone!?" His round face had gone red with rage and he was snarling down at Geoff who sat opposite the table. The chief took a deep breath before continuing, a little bit calmer this time. "I took you off this case for a reason, and you went against that order. First Pattillo and now Haywood, I can't let this happen again… Sorry Ramsey, but you need to hand over your badge and gun."
"What d'you mean 'now Haywood'?! Ryan wasn't even there!" Geoff snapped, clenching his fists in order to refrain from punching the asshole.
"Geoff, you radioed for assistance, Ryan was the first one to answer." The chief explained, still snarling irritably. "But he never made it to you. About twenty minutes after he left we heard 'officer down' on the radio so we sent more backup but when we arrived, nobody was injured and Ryan was dead."
A painful clenching around Geoff's heart left him almost unable to breath. The chief must be fucking with him because Ryan wasn't stupid, he would have been careful and clever. There must have been some god-awful mistake, but the solemn look on the chief's dull face told him otherwise.
"Who said 'officer down' if Ryan was the only one there?" Geoff asked, trying to find at least one loophole here, it's exactly what Ryan would have done.
"We haven't identified the voice yet, it sounded like a young British guy, perhaps in his mid-twenties." The chief informed, turning to his computer.
A young British guy in his mid-twenties? Geoff already had an idea of who this asshole could be.
"Play the fucking clip." Geoff snapped, voice cracking ever so slightly but his stern expression even had the chief obeying him for once.
When the clip was played, Geoff heard the distinct noise of gunfire in the background, then, just as the chief had described, a voice Geoffdefinitely recognised sneered "officer down" into Ryan's walkie talkie.
"Motherfucker!" Geoff exclaimed, pulling out his gun and badge, slamming them down on the chief's desk loudly before storming out.
That snarky British voice belonged to Gavin, Michael's other partner in crime.
Ray was dead, that Geoff was sure of; he was only dead because Michael had taken Jack from him.
And now Ryan was dead, so of course Gavin had to die. It was only logical, right?
At least that's what Geoff told himself as he stole Officer Gibson's gun on the way out of the department, it wouldn't hurt him to be prepared. Geoff wasn't like Michael, he didn't have an array of weaponry at his fingertips and besides, it wasn't like Blaine would notice his gun was missing until JJ points it out to him later.
So Geoff continued to walk out of the department, knowing that with what he was about to do, the only way he would return would be if he were to be on the other side of the bars to the ones he's used to.
Geoff felt like his legs were on autopilot, because all he could think of whilst half-jogging down the streets was how many hours Gavin had left; it certainly wasn't going to be many. That bastard had killed Ryan, he needed to be dead.
And when Geoff finally arrived home, he quickly pulled out his laptop and opened up the police files he thankfully still had access to - so the chief hadn't gone through with all the movements of removing Geoff from their database of officers yet - and he typed in the number plate he remembered to be the one attached to Gavin's Sanchez. He was given an address of a tiny house in a fairly quiet but rough area - Geoff's next destination.
Before Geoff got back in his car, he walked around his house and grabbed some things he could possibly use to help persuade Gavin to give out Michael's location. He also ended up grabbing a load of rope - though it was fairly old, so Geoff had no idea how well it was going to gold - and shoving that in his bag as well before leaving.
After driving the ten minute drive to Gavin's neighbourhood, he realised that he didn't have an actual plan of action.
But that didn't stop him from walking up to Gavin's front door with confident strides and knocking firmly on the wood of his door. The paint was peeling slightly, but the entire street was like that; old, run-down, unnoticeable.
The door finally opened and Geoff was greeted with the face of the man he'd seen only once before; and that was just after Michael's poker night.
"Hello, what can I do for you?" Gavin asked in the exact same voice Geoff had heard on the radio, albeit this tone was cheerier and had no darkness or sadism packed into it.
"Uh…" Geoff froze for half a second, still unsure of what to do, before he drew back his fist and slammed it into the side of Gavin's head, causing the Brit to collapse to the floor in an unconscious heap.
"Fuck…" Geoff muttered, rubbing his knuckles before grabbing Gavin by the arm and slinging it over his shoulder to haul him off the ground and into the back seat of his car where Geoff firmly tied up Gavin's arms and legs, just in case he woke up before they arrived at their final destination.
Where that was, Geoff didn't know. He was awfully unorganised for this, Ryan would laugh at him whilst Jack complained at his atrocious planning skills.
Thinking of Ryan's death only made Geoff more angry, so he gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as he drove a couple of miles away from Gavin's house where he knew there was a nice abandoned warehouse that not even teenage kids explored; the perfect place to torture Gavin until he caved and gave away Michael's plans and location.
It took a couple more minutes to arrive there, and when he did, Geoff was thankful for the place being a while away from any inhabited houses or buildings. Because he would look suspicious as fuck carrying an unconscious and tied up body across the small parking lot into the building. Even coming back out of the building to grab his duffel bag would look weird; this side of Austin, anyone carrying a duffel bag would immediately be thought of as fishy.
A stray thought crossed Geoff mind as he entered the building again, so instead of continuing through the building to the room he'd left Gavin in, he grabbed a chair and then headed for Gavin.
Tying Gavin up was surprisingly easy, the motherfucker was skinny and light, he barely weighed anything compared to the other people Geoff had fought and tussled with in the past.
Only Ryan had really proved a challenge to Geoff when they practiced their hand-on-hand fighting; he was sneaky and calculative and incredibly strong. Jack was strong too, probably even more so than Ryan, but Geoff had been the one to train Jack so he knew all of his moves.
But now they were dead and Gavin was half to blame.
Geoff paced for a good half an hour before anything happened in that old, abandoned warehouse, and when Ryan's murderer finally woke up, simply seeing his eyes open made Geoff want to punch him.
So he did; bringing his arm back and slamming his closed fist into Gavin's face.
"You're a piece of shit, you know that?" Geoff snarled, smirking when Gavin reeled from the punch, lip already split and droplets of blood falling from the wound.
That was nothing compared to what Geoff wanted to do to the guy.
Gavin opened his mouth to speak, but Geoff shut him up with another punch to his face; a crack and a cry of pain from Gavin informed Geoff that he'd probably at least fractured the kid's jaw (and most likely Geoff's knuckles as well, but he didn't give a shit about that).
"HE HAD A WIFE AND TWO KIDS AT HOME!" Geoff screamed, laying two more punches onto Gavin's already bleeding and bruised face, successfully sending the chair toppling over sideways.
Gavin was whimpering and choking on the agony, but the sounds he made were closer to wheezes after Geoff kicked him in the chest a few times, certainly breaking a few of Gavin's ribs and hopefully giving him some serious internal injuries on top of that. When Gavin spluttered, Geoff actually felt kind of proud when he spat out crimson red blood onto the floor.
"Where's Michael?" Geoff demanded furiously, standing his ground and staring down in disgust at Gavin.
The pathetic excuse for a criminal sniffled and coughed up some more bloody sputum.
So Geoff crouched, grabbing Gavin by the hair and smacking his head down on the hard floor with a brutal force. "I said 'where's Michael', you scrawny British fuck!"
Gavin opened his mouth and looked like he was about to speak, so Geoff leaned in close to his face, hand still clenched in his hair.
But then Gavin spat in Geoff's face, sending a gross mixture of blood and saliva over Geoff, who wiped it off with the sleeve of his shirt and pulled Blaine's gun from his pocket, whacking Gavin in the face with it, making sure to do more damage to the pre-existing fractured jaw Gavin was now sporting.
Geoff stood up, face set in a determined snarl as he walked over to the duffel bag he had dropped their earlier; it contained some more rope, a crowbar, various kitchen knives, a pair of pliers, and an angle grinder.
He turned around, but stopped in his tracks when he saw that Gavin had somehow broken free of the rope that tied him to the chair, and he was now lying on the floor, barely managing to keep himself conscious but still keeping Blaine's gun pointed shakily at Geoff.
Gavin was shivering with pain, blood splattered over his face and all down his shirt, tears streaming down his face and mingling with the mess. He was an emotional mess, that much Geoff could see, so he froze and stared at the boy as he stared right back at Geoff.
Geoff hadn't planned for this; he was going to torture Gavin until he spilled on Michael's whereabouts then he was going to kill him. He wasn't supposed to get free, and he certainly wasn't supposed to end up with the gun.
The things Geoff was planning to do - and had already done - to Gavin was unforgivable.
And now Gavin had a gun trained on him.
Geoff watched in fear and terror as Gavin closed his eyes, tears continuing to wet his face, before muttering out a weak choked sob of "I'm sorry."
Gavin then turned the gun around, pressing the barrel underneath his chin and taking a deep breath before pulling the trigger and slumping onto the ground dead, the gun falling from his fingertips and clattering to the floor.
