The room, dark and dusty wasn't anything special. The walls were covered in grime with only one, singular slightly yellowed window. There was a single desk with a chair, a small laptop was humming nearly silently on the old wood desk. There was also a bookshelf, on it, where 5 tattered books and two bottles of vodka sat- the alcohol on the top shelf to keep out of reach of wandering hands.

The room itself was in an old factory, probably an abandoned paper mill. The room was one of the few offices and was currently filled with the sounds of someone gently snoring. Amidst the snoring, the cries and whimpers of a small child echoed throughout the old mill. A tired, younger man sat in the only chair in the room, rubbing his temples vigorously. The man himself was young, early twenties at the most, but the bags under his brown eyes contradicted his age and made him appear to be much, much older.

"So let me get this straight, you can take down three snipers with only a hairdryer, but you cannot control a ** two year old!" An older man yelled, Scotty, the man that his screaming was aimed, at flinched and retreated further back into his worn chair.

"Sorry boss, I've never met a little girl like this. She's like... a Tasmanian Devil or somethin', you know, like from those cartoons...she was pure ca-razy!"

The man looked at the man, his junior by only a few months, for a moment, his eyes flickering towards the now-sleeping toddler on a leaky air mattress. Her thumb was in her mouth and a newly-bought sock monkey in her arms the only true sense of comfort she seemed to have as she wrestled with invisible demons in her dreams.

"Where the hell did the sock monkey come from, Scotty?"

"I went down the road and bought it from Cracker Barrel. But in my defense the kid wouldn't stop screaming her head off- something about Dim-Sum and a chick named Sissy," Scotty stuttered, swiveling around in his chair. His boss groaned and slapped his head.

"First of all, you took her to Cracker Barrel! The FB-freaking-I is scouring the COUNTRY for her, and you risked our entire operation to just shut her up? And secondly the person's name isn't Sissy- she's this little girl's older sister!" He yelled, Gibbs-slapping the back of Scotty's head. The brown haired man winced, but said nothing to his advisor, instead staring blankly at dim screen in front of him.

"I left her here, locked up in the room just in case. Doesn't it seem kind of... wrong to you to kidnap a child- just to get some funky piece of jewelry?" He whispered after a moment, looking over his shoulder cautiously from the laptop he had retreated to.

"You want money?"

Scotty didn't reply.

"Of course you do- that's why you came to us. And you have to be willing to do anything in order to be rich, right?"

"Well..." the man paused.

"This is how far we're willing to go." He whispered, his breath making Scotty want to vomit. Vodka.

Outside the grimy little room, the pair could hear someone click-clacking towards them. Stiletto heels clicked on the floor; slow and menacing, like a jungle cat waiting to pounce on its unsuspecting victims; the sound of those heels alone caused both men in the room to freeze for a singular, terrifying moment. The door opened, and there silhouetted in the fluorescent lighting of the hallway, was a woman. Her long black hair fell across her shoulders carefully, the only color in her ensemble was the red scarf wrapped around her neck artistically. The blouse and matching pencil skirt she wore were black at the bottom but became a gradient of black to white as it reached her shoulders. The stiletto heels she had on were black as well with red bottoms-they were the real deal and lethal looking. Completing the look was a pair of black sunglasses and a rather large black hat. After closing the door behind her, she removed her sunglasses and took off her hat, carefully placing them on the table, next to Scotty and his laptop. Her piercing hazel eyes had a tint of emotion to them that was quite hard to decipher. Both men sat wordlessly, staring at the one woman they both feared the most.

"Sorry I'm late, sweeties. I saw the cutest scarf while on my way here, and I just couldn't resist. Oh! Is this the little sweetie pie?" The woman said loudly, clanking over to the sleeping girl.

"Yes," Scott replied curtly, his voice trembling slightly.

"She's cute- too bad they're not going to hand over the necklace. I might just take her home for myself," She mused, playing with a lock of Elaine's hair. Bringing out a pair of scissors from her purse, she cut a lock of her hair off. her freakily beautiful face morphing into a look of insanity.

"Send it to them, along with a picture." She ordered, her voice no longer sweet- but now almost icy, a voice that shook the two men to their core. She stood up and brushed off her pencil skirt neatly, flashing the two men a white smile. "Well, I'm off!" She said cheerfully, "Bye boys, don't have too much fun without me!"

And with that, Mrs. Monio left the room in all her glory. Leaving behind two scared-looking men and a sleeping child with a bad haircut.

Scotty looked at the man next to him. "Why are you married to a woman like that? She's a total **."

He just shrugged and brought out an old camera from a desk. Looking up and out of the dusty window, he sighed, the happy memories of his past flashing behind his slightly misty eyes. "She wasn't always like that- Kat used to be the most caring woman. When we first met," he chuckled, his face suddenly weary and tired, "She was a business woman, fresh out of school, and I was an inventor, moonlighting as a librarian in the local bookstore to earn some much needed extra cash. She was looking for an elusive book on ancient societies—her secret hobby—and had been unable to find it. We made a bet; if I could find the book, she had to go on a date with me. I found the book, we went on a date, and from then on, well, that's history. She was a sweet, caring woman, but when her father died and left her a large sum of money, and... she changed."

"Then why is she so money-hungry if she's rich? I mean, you guys are rich, right?"

"It wasn't enough. To her, it's never enough; she'll always want more. The reason I married her...well, it was because I once loved her. Now? I don't even know." He muttered, looking back at Elaine and tossing down a newspaper next to the sleeping girl. "Enough about my marriage—or lack thereof; let's get back to work," the fatigued expression on his face all but canceled out the seemingly cheery smile on his face.

Scotty just looked at his boss and remained silent. Lighting a cigarette and taking a deep breath, he could practically feel his nerves calming by the second by the tobacco. In his heart, he definitely felt guilty about capturing the kid. He knew that no matter what this little girl's sister did, the little kid would still end up dead. He'd known that from the moment he'd shot her sister. To him, the most regrettable part of the night was leaving her, bleeding in a puddle of her own blood, while taking the only family she had left (that he knew of, of course).

He breathed out and sighed. He was a monster. He had thought he'd been willing to do anything when he had joined. When they had come to him and offered him the job, he leapt at it. He really wanted—and needed—the money and was desperate enough to do anything, ANYTHING to get the money. After all he'd gone through, Scotty personally thought he was cold enough, STRONG enough to kill someone and not have afterthoughts. He should have known better—no one with a heart can kill another human being and not see it in his or her nightmares for years to come.

Then why was he feeling so guilty?

Seeing that girl slip and crack her head nearly open trying to reach her little sister touched him. She was stubborn enough to try to protect the girl, even after her coffee had been spiked with poison; she was not going to give up, no matter how weak she was. When she couldn't move and faster to get to him, she just began to scream in some sort of last-attempt to either scare him off or get some help. She kept screaming, though, until he had shot her, she quieted after that.

He'd shot and innocent person.

An innocent, caring, young girl whose bright future lay ahead of her like a Caribbean sunset.

He had killed her. He could feel it. No one could live through that. He was positive. Even if she managed to survive the gunshot wound, having her sister taken away form her would kill a piece of her that she could never get back.

He had taken the only thing she had left-for what? A stupid necklace she probably didn't even know about or understand.

Scotty Newman was a monster, he realized, as he ground the tobacco onto the ground. Tears began prickling at his brown eyes.

He picked up the small child from the air mattress, cradling her in his arms while his boss continued drinking out of a tequila bottle. He gently rocked her back and forth in some sort of gentle attempt to quell the whimpers.

He truly was a monster if he let them kill this innocent little girl.

He truly was.