Author's Note: Hehe, I fear this chapter was written while I was still in my "I hate this story and I want it over with" stage. In other words, I was getting a little impatient right about now, so bear with me.

Whoot, chapter 10! Thanks so much for all the reviews, I'll try to reply to as many as possible when I can :)

Well, wasn't this just great? I had an FBI agent in my apartment. I still didn't know why the hell this "Halle Lidner" was there, except for her own quickly given reason, that she wanted to ask me "a few questions". Sure, that's what they all said.

But really, I'd thought I was doing well to stay inconspicuous and unsuspicious. What on earth had I done to give her reason to suspect me?

Unless, as I was beginning to suspect with a dreadful feeling, she had heard my confession in the church.

We had put away the guns, all nice and civil. I'd offered Halle a drink and she'd settled for water, with no ice. There she sat, all straight and official like in the chair opposite me, while I lounged upon the couch and examined her with a look that must have been bordering on disgust, since every time she'd glance at me her face would color silent. I wasn't meaning to look at her as if she was a cockroach, but it was rather vile to me, the idea of law enforcement of any kind in my apartment. This was the last thing I needed.

She was writing on a notepad, and as soon as she had finished her teeny-tiny chicken scratch across the page she took a carefully sip of water and settled her gaze upon me.

"So," she said. "What's your name?"

"That's none of your business," I said, as pleasantly as I possibly could.

She smiled tensely. "Alright. Then-"

"Why did you break into my apartment?" I said, cutting her off. "You haven't shown me your search warrant."

She pursed her lips. "This…is not a government investigation."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "You mean…you're abusing your power as an agent by using it for your own gains?"

"That is a very harsh way of putting it," she said slowly. "I am…using my power as an agent without the consent of the government, yes, but it's for the good of the country. For the world as a whole."

"Oh really? And I'm somehow involved in this?"

"You said you came here to join the mafia," she said. "I simply wanted your name for the records, and that's why I came here. I would have left immediately, had I not seen your files."

I cursed. "Hasn't anyone ever told you it's damn rude to listen to someone's confession? Shit, woman, what kind of person are you? A snoop, that's what you are."

She smirked, and chuckled softly. "I'm a member of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. It's in my nature to be a snoop. But listen, like I said, I'm here without government permission. I'd only be bothering to tell you this if I thought it could be beneficial. For both of us."

"How's that?" I said, examining my nails as if I didn't care.

"Could I have a name first at least? You obviously know enough about Kira to be keeping all your records carefully hidden. Needles to say, I didn't find your name anywhere in this apartment. I don't mind if it's an alias, but I'd like to at least have something to call you."

I grinned. "Mello."

"Mello, then," she said, and nodded. "Look, my whole purpose in trying to find your name was so that I would be able to keep you on my own records as a criminal. Therefore, I could have a better idea if you were killed by Kira. Are you following?"

"I'm not stupid," I said. "You're not exactly talking fast either."

She frowned, but went on, a bit faster. "When I saw how much research you were doing on Kira, I got curious. I still am. Just what are you trying to do?"

"First, tell me what this mission of yours is. You know, the one you're doing without government permission."

"I'm trying to track down Kira," she said, without hesitation. "I want to put an end to him. Some time ago a friend of mine was killed by him, and there was far from any justified reason. I know well the pain the family and friends of Kira's victims feel. My government isn't doing enough, so I felt I had to take matters into my own hands. I have a feeling your goal is similar, isn't it?"

I cocked my head to one side. Could I trust her? It wasn't as if she could get my real name, and she really was a member of the FBI, at least according to that badge and ID, neither of which looked fake. But as I hesitated in my answer, she went on.

"I think we can help each other," she said. "You have a lot of information here, but I have information too. If we could perhaps-"

"I work alone, thanks."

"Don't be so pompous," she said, and her voice was irritated. "Not even L is working alone."

My eyes widened, my muscles freezing up. "What do you know about L?"

"He teamed up with a small group of the Japanese police, years ago, when the case first started," she said. "I haven't been able to discover who they are, but-"

"One of them is Kira," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I was talking to myself, but of course she heard me. "That's it. Those are the only people who saw L's face, so…"

"What are you talking about?" she said. "How can you come to the conclusion that one of them is Kira so quickly? You know nothing about them!"

I paused. She could be a valuable ally to me, but could I trust her? She seemed sincere enough, and this information…

"Can I trust you?" I said, a useless question, but one that I automatically asked.

"Absolutely," she said. "I told you, I'm working alone. My lips are sealed on this matter."

I sat up on the coach, leaning forward slightly. "L…is dead."

She stared back at me in utter silence, her face turning ashen pale. Her lips barely moved with the single word she spoke, "What?"

"L, the L, the original L, is dead. His place has been taken by a member of that group you mentioned, the only people that could possibly have been introduced to L as L. They're the only people who could have seen his face and known who he was. Kira has to be among them."

"But then the current L, who is-"

"Again, someone from that group. Maybe…maybe even Kira."

She seemed to sink down in her chair. "I…I can hardly believe that."

"We decided to trust each other didn't we? We're alone, but I'm willing to make compromises for the sake of benefits. You don't have to believe me, but I'm telling you the truth. L is dead."

"How would you know that?" she whispered.

Ahh…awkward question. Just what was I supposed to say? How much could I reveal to her? I barely even knew the woman, she could be faking this whole thing, but for what gain? She seemed to be completely honest. And it would be a much needed asset to have a connection in the FBI.

"I'm connected to L," I said, though I knew she would want me to expand on that. I just wasn't comfortable giving her this kind of information.

"But no one just has a 'connection' to L," she insisted. "Only his...his assistant…what's his name…"

"Watari," I said. "Also known as Quillish Wammy, the founder of an orphanage in England. All the children there are connected to L, including me. Me especially. I was supposed to be the one to take over for him if he died. Either me or another boy. We were L's heirs, but he died unexpectedly, killed by Kira, before he could choose either one of us to take his place. So now we're both working to take down Kira. I'm here to do it my way."

"The mafia…" she said softly.

"They just happen to be my way. They're necessary."

She stroked her finger over her lips in thought. "Are you being honest? I'd had no idea that L was so…I mean, I knew he was a very impressive detective-"

"He was the best in the world," I said quickly. "If L suddenly disappeared chaos could ensue. It was necessary to have back-ups, people who had been trained specifically to take his place. I'm one of them. I'm sure you can find it understandable that I want to avenge him, take down Kira, and prove that I truly was the worthy one to take his place."

"Where's the other boy?" she said.

"I don't where he is," I said. "I have his number, that's all, and at the moment he has far more power and connections than me. By this time, he'll have more information than both of us combined. Does that intrigue you?"

"It does."

"I don't know what exactly he'll do," I said. "But he goes by the alias Near. Soon enough, he'll be coming out somewhere. He'll need to make his presence known, even if it's risky. He'll need professionals to help him; he isn't capable completely on his own. Probably…" I thought for a few moments. "He'll try to get the backing of a powerful government."

"The American government?" Halle suggested, and I nodded.

"Maybe. It's a likely choice. But he'll want to be able to present them with plenty of evidence for what he knows. He's given me…permission…to trade with him. Information for information, but only if I'm able to steal it. Don't bother to understand it; it won't make sense to you." I waved my hand dismissively.

"So you'll need someone on the inside," she said.

"That would be useful, yes."

"And if I were to be that inside source, if Near really does choose America, then I'd also be getting information for myself."

"Exactly," I said. "You see? Just like that, and you're a nice little player in the game too. Everyone is working alone…"

"But you can't play without other players. Working alone, but also together."

I nodded. "That's it. We can all make fair trades, as long as we want it enough to take it."

She shook her head. "This is real, isn't it? An orphanage of children raised to be L…there's something going on here that the rest of the world would never even see."

"There's a lot the rest of the world doesn't see."

"Even between you and Near, what you're talking about with fair trade. It's all something deeper than just an investigation to bring down Kira."

"Of course," I said, and shrugged. "I'm sure you have your special little reasons too. So you have yours, and I'll have mine. We can keep in touch."

She scrawled down her cell phone number on a bit of paper and handed it over to me. "I hope you understand, I have to stay within the law. I'm still an agent. What about you and Near?"

"What, are you going to arrest me?"

She paused, then said, "No."

I smirked. "I'll be doing whatever I damn well please, because I can. That's my skill here; I can do anything I want. Now Near, he doesn't have that. He has brains, but he doesn't do much. He's dependant on people. Basically, he figures it out, and I do something about it. You, if everything turns out how I'd like, can be the little string between us. If Near gets in with the U.S government, you need to do everything you can to get close to him. Then pass on what he knows to me."

"I'll be the catalyst," she said, and I nodded.

"You could say that."

…

So there it was. Just like that, I had a connection on the inside. I was dreadfully pleased with myself over it, perhaps ridiculously so. But still, the pace of things was beginning to pick up, and I liked it.

Now, I just had to complete the final step. I needed to get into Rod Ross's family, and for that, I had to kill Don De Luca. The question was how to go about it? I knew where he lived; I knew the clubs and restaurants he visited. So where would be the best place? When he was around town he almost always had body guards with him, so how was I to shoot him and get away with it?

I always followed him now, looking for any opportunity, and as an extra precaution I got a silencer for my gun. For weeks it was in vain, and I found no opening, but then came the night when Tony De Luca received a phone call. One simple call on his cell phone, for which he left his goons at the bar and stepped out to the back of the club, talking in a low voice. It was an important call, obviously, and a secret one. It could have been nothing else but that for him to leave his men and go somewhere secluded just to take it. I trailed after him, as inconspicuously as possible, excitement rising in me.

This was it…

For all the weeks and months that I'd planned to murder him, I'd pictured it only one way. Quick and clean, I'd aim the gun and shoot once. I'd walk away without a single witness having seen me. That was how it was supposed to go. Anything else simply wouldn't do.

But you see, I was stupid. That isn't how a murder goes.

You're trying to take away life, and the thing with life is that it fights. It fights, and fights, and fights to remain what it is, rather than dissolve into what it isn't: death. De Luca was a man with a lot of life in him still, and with a lot of passion too. At least, passion was what I saw in his eyes as I called his name and raised the gun.

It was the passion to go on living. The second I saw that, something in my mind clicked, and it was as if my whole body went cold. All the while something screamed in me, "No, no, no!" But it wasn't as if I could stop. My finger squeezed, the gun fired, jolting my arm but almost totally silent…and a large stain of red began to grow in De Luca's side.

Only…why didn't he die? He dropped the cell phone and stumbled, but then his hand reached for his own gun. I frowned as he did that, too deep in my own state of shock at what I'd done to act completely sensibly. But as he did that, swearing at me, it was like the very deepest of insults. All the trouble I'd gone to, the planning, all for him to do this? He was outright defying me.

It was altogether silly and childish, those emotions I felt, but in truth I was probably far more frightened than he was. My finger pulled the trigger again, and his body jerked, but he was still raising the gun and taking aim…

"Thou shall not murder…"

Again, again, and again, I shot him. When he finally collapsed to the ground, breathing hard and shuddering because not once had I been able to stop my own arm shaking long enough to just shoot him in the head, I stood over him, and took aim one last time.

"Who are you?" his words rasped out as blood stained his lips.

I felt as if I would be sick. "The fucking Angel of Death."

And I ended it.

…

There is no need for details on the trip home with his body in the back of the car. I took it with me only for one purpose: I needed to be able to prove to Rod that it really had been me who killed him. But I was going into shock by that time, and it was worse by the time I actually arrived home. I didn't know what to do with myself or…or him. I hadn't realized before that his blood had stained my shirt, and that it was on my hands as well.

All this time…all this time I had thought it would be so quick and simple. Though in truth, it had been simple. It hadn't exactly been some kind of difficult conundrum to kill him. But to me, those shots I fired seemed to have taken an eternity. I had gone against the last and most basic teaching my mother had ever given me, though it was probably the one she'd gone over with me the most, considering my angry fits and the fights I would get to in school.

"You shouldn't hurt people Mihael, it isn't nice. It says in the Bible, 'Thou shall not murder'."

"It would be very awful if you ever hurt someone that way, Mihael."

She'd told me that countless times, in that gentle but disapproving voice that always had reduced me to guilty tears. But I couldn't cry over it now. I didn't feel numb, I felt caged, trapped in my mind with images of De Luca dying flitting around in my head. I slowly stripped off my clothes and showered, scrubbing the blood off my hands…body…hair…damn, it was everywhere, how could there be so much blood in people? I felt absolutely ill, but I couldn't pin my finger on exactly why. Maybe it was the smell. Maybe it was just shock. But I ended up vomiting before I got out of the bathroom and went to curl up on the bed, pulling the blankets tight around me.

"Thou shall not murder."

It was an awful night. I wasn't sick again, I wasn't afraid, but I couldn't sleep. I was still just trying to get my thoughts back into order. This was ridiculous, reacting this way. I'd had to do it, there had been no choice. I'd done what had to be done, and I'd done it relatively well I thought, considering I'd never killed anyone. But then the very damning thoughts began to creep up on me, and the word "murderer" wouldn't leave me alone.

Murderer…and killer…the kind of person we were came to despise at Wammy's House as the enemy, as the kind of person L always fought against. I had become the very thing I was supposed to be against. I was now the kind of person L would have tried to track down. But I was doing this for the greater good, I was doing to it to bring down Kira…and Near…

The following morning, I was calm again. Exhausted, but calm. I had made up my mind that the body had to be disposed of; I didn't want it near me or my apartment any longer. Though the sheer filthiness of the situation revolted me, I took De Luca's head. That was my proof. That man's head, tucked away in a backpack. It was doubtlessly the most disgusting thing I did in my life, for me at least. It wasn't so much that I was dismembering him; after all, he was already dead. It was just the blood. It felt so dirty that I spent nearly half an hour afterward just washing my hands again and again, never quite feeling as if I was getting them clean enough.

Nevertheless, I got it done. My proof was locked away in the closet, because I couldn't bear to have it anywhere near my food in the fridge. Therefore, I would have to get the next steps done quickly, before it started…rotting. Ugh. How could anyone possibly enjoy killing?

I had the address for the member of Rod's family who was selling the drugs he'd "snitched", and as soon as De Luca's body had been disposed of – buried out in the sands at least eighty miles from the city – I started preparing to go there. I had confirmed that the man actually was Edward Shaw, despite going by Eddie, as I'd watched the location given to me for several days just to make sure everything was legit. It was, and I got the phone number for the place and called up to arrange a meeting with him. Luckily it all went well and the meeting was arranged. I had to wait only a day, making it two days after I'd killed De Luca, to go down to his place. I had the backpack with me, and the gun hidden, feeling anxious but prepared. I was finally going to do it. All the months of waiting had all led up to this. Now, at last, I'd get what I needed.

Eddie lived in a small house a little ways from Las Vegas, in the town of Pahrump. I drove down there in the evening, my fingers tapping nervously against the steering wheel as I approached closer and closer. I had the gun…what did I have to worry about? After all, at that point I at least knew I was capable of killing someone. There shouldn't be any problems, and I would probably be able to get a deal struck with Rod before the night was over.

I took a deep breath as I pulled up in front of the house, its front yard dark. But there were lights on inside, and Eddie's car was parked there in the driveway. I got out of the car, pulled on the backpack, and made my way up to the front door. Eddie opened it before I could even knock.

"Name?" he said, and he sounded uncomfortable, his eyes flickering past me out into the darkness beyond.

"Michael," I said. There was no way I was giving him the alias I was using at the casino. I didn't want to risk Rod getting word of this prematurely. "I did call-"

"What's in the bag?" he said, jerking his head toward the backpack.

"The money," I said. "You want it, right? I'm going to need to fill the pack with something once the money is gone."

He sighed heavily, and opened the door a bit wider. "Yeah, yeah. Come in. I got the stuff, just follow me."

I did, taking a careful look around the house as I did. There was trash here and there, empty soda cans, a half-eaten TV dinner. Rather dusty too, and the lighting was dim. I had to wonder just how much time he spent here, and how much time he spent in Las Vegas in the headquarters there.

"You brought it all in cash right?" he said, casting me suspicious looks. "I don't take checks…"

"No checks," I said, and tossed him the backpack. "See for yourself."

He set down the pack on the couch and slid open the zipper…I watched his whole body tense, his gaze slowly shifting back to me. I already had the gun drawn and aimed.

"Take me to The Boss's headquarters," I said. "I need to speak with him in person. If you don't want to end up like De Luca, do as I tell you. Now."

For several long seconds he didn't move, but just stared at me with a serious expression upon his face. But then…slowly…he smiled.

"Nice try kid," he said, and any hint of nervousness was gone. Realization shot through me, but it was too late for that. I heard several clicks all around me, the sounds of guns being cocked, and five armed men stepped into view, and that was just in front of me. Rod Ross himself stood there, chuckling.

"Well, well, kitten" he said. "Looks like curiosity killed the cat." And he leveled the gun straight at my head

Gasp! Oooh, the suspense! Hehe, so here's some rope to make sure you don't fall, and I'll leave you with that little cliffhanger until the next chapter :D Oh yes, I love my cliffhangers far too much. Muhahaha!