Guest Starring
Frank Mills…………………Chiwetel Ejiofor
Nicole Rex………………….Rose Byrne
Lawrence Hodge………….Idris Elba
Felicia Cruz………………...Lynda Boyd
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Chapter 10: The Return
The yellow beams of the Camaro's headlights guided the car down a lonely, winding highway bordered by sloping, jagged valleys on either side. There were no other lights of any kind around the empty roadway. The only thing lighting up the highway was the shining, white moon hanging above the dreary, purple sky. Surrounded by the low rumble of the engine and the grinding revolutions of the tires, Will followed the curving road a little longer. A quarter mile ahead of them was a tall, decrepit sign that read 'Motel Demore' in neon red lights. Under it was a sign indicating the motel still had a few vacancies.
Will turned around to find Jay and Tyler had both fallen asleep. Turning into the small parking lot of the motel, he shut the car's engine off and unlocked the doors. He shook Tyler by the shoulder, prompting him to awaken. In the backseat, Jay's eyes fluttered open and he joined his friends in stepping out the car. The air was chilly and there was a slight breeze passing by.
"Why'd we stop?" Jay asked, rubbing his right eye.
"We got a long road ahead of us," Will said as he led the boys to the motel office. "You can't expect us to go through without a little shuteye, do you?"
"Guess not," Jay sighed.
Following Will into the motel office, Jay looked around the small room to find a short man sitting behind the counter. There was a small painting of a beautiful lake behind him, but that was basically the only thing decorating the office. Everything else seemed pretty simple; there was a desk, a couple chairs, and a tiny table placed in front of the chairs.
The man behind the counter looked up at Will, who faked a smile at him. "Need a room?" the man asked as he leaned forward.
"Yup, three beds," Will grumbled.
The man reached under his desk and grabbed a silver key hanging alongside at least a dozen more. He slapped it on the desk, but held onto it. "That's gonna be twenty-seven bucks." Grabbing his wallet, Will pulled out a twenty and a ten. He handed them to the man, who slipped the money into his pocket and pulled out three dollars in change. As the man handed Will back his three bucks, he said, "Log in here."
Will picked up a black pen on the desk and wrote down a name on log in sheet the man slid towards him. The name read 'Aaron Smithee'. He penned in the time as well then slid the clipboard back to the man. "That all?"
"Yup. You have a good stay," the man said before slouching back into his chair.
Nodding to the man, Will grabbed the silver key and walked out the office. Attached to the key was a card with the number eighteen printed onto it. Walking back to his car, Will unlocked the doors and grabbed his stuff. Turning to Jay and Tyler, he said, "Grab your stuff."
Tyler reached in and pulled out his and Jay's backpacks. He threw Jay's backpack to him and slammed the passenger side door shut. All three boys walked up to Room 18, where Will used the key to unlock the door. Stepping inside, they all began to set their bags on the floor and on chairs. Still tired, Tyler immediately stalked towards a bed and plopped himself down on it. Meanwhile, Jay set his backpack on the floor and slumped into a chair.
"What's our plan?" Jay wanted to know.
While Jay seemed intent on forming a plan, Tyler, on the other hand, didn't appear as adamant. He rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms out as he jokingly replied, "Get some sleep."
Smiling wryly, Will sat on the edge of another bed and looked at his two friends. "The Fourth Branch," he muttered.
"What?" Tyler asked, confused.
"We go after the Fourth Branch," Will answered.
"Are you kidding me? That's crazy, Will! We can't take them on by ourselves!" Tyler replied. He suddenly appeared awake and jolted by Will's words.
"We don't take them on," Jay interjected. "We find out what they are; who they are; what they do."
"Exactly," Will said. Clasping his hands together, he added, "The Fourth Branch is apparently behind everything that's happened so far. We expose them, we expose the truth… about everything."
"How can we expose them?" Tyler asked. "We don't know a thing about them."
Will looked unwaveringly at Tyler and said, "When you want answers as badly as we want them, you find ways."
New York FBI Field Office
Entering a room filled with video monitors were Fred Chambers and a medium-built African-American man who was of regular height. The African-American man had short, close-shaven black hair and brown eyes; he had a square jaw and a pronounced brow. The bored expression on his face suggested he didn't feel at all like being there right now. He wore a nicely pressed outfit consisting of a dark gray blazer with matching slacks and a white collar shirt and black tie underneath. Attached to the black leather belt around his waist was a holster for his 10 mm and his FBI badge. Walking alongside him, Agent Chambers was dressed in a navy blue suit with a white button-down shirt underneath and a charcoal gray tie.
Sitting around the room in revolving chairs were lowly FBI agents with headsets wrapped around their heads and the sides of their faces. They all came to a halt as soon as Chambers walked in the room. Chambers pointed up at the gigantic screen in front of them and ordered, "Bring that monitor up. We have a call coming through."
As an agent sitting in front of the monitor began typing away on the keyboard at his fingers, a short woman with long, brunette hair walked in. The female agent had a lean, slender body with brunette hair that went down past her shoulders and curled at the ends. She had hazel-colored eyes that stared up at the giant monitor as it buzzed to life with the image of a tall, Caucasian man with light brown hair and blue eyes. The man stared into the screen as he cleared his throat.
"What's happening?" the female agent asked the African-American man as she snuck behind Chambers.
"Denver Field Office says they have something for us," the agent answered.
"About what?" the female agent questioned. Her comrade shrugged at her and looked up at the monitor as the agent at the keyboard gave Chambers the thumbs-up.
Chambers nodded and pressed a button on the side of the control panel, which sat near the agent. "We're ready on our side, Agent Kingsley. You may begin."
The agent on the screen nodded and said, "At approximately seven-fifteen o'clock PM MST, local PD in Buckley Rock, Colorado found the body of a deceased male on Highway 19. Beside the body, crashed into a ditch, was a black Suburban – license plate 645-TNO – while across the street was a parked, abandoned black sedan – license plate 310-FPT. Deceased male was between the ages twenty-five and thirty and was of Middle-Eastern descent. The ID we found on him was fake and so far, we have no matches in our databases for his picture."
"Excuse me, but what does this have to do with any of our cases up here?" the African-American agent with Chambers interrupted. Chambers turned to him and glared. Shrugging his shoulders, the agent looked back at him brashly.
"Agent Mills, we searched both cars for usable prints. Do you know what we found on the black sedan?" Agent Kingsley asked with a stern expression.
"No, what?" Mills replied. The female agent beside Mills was just as confused and curious as he was. Both leaned forward and listened closely to what Kingsley was going to say.
Agent Kingsley stared back at the three agents on his screen and bluntly stated, "We found fingerprints identically matching the fingerprints of one of your suspects in the Drexler Bombing – Jay Burchell."
Denver, CO
At seven o'clock the next morning, the sun was already high in the blue sky. Though the orange beams rained down on the city of Denver, there were still quite a few clusters of clouds in the sky. It was rush hour so many cars sped up and down the busy streets. A light rail car passed through an empty street with only a handful of passengers inside it. Across the street, the street light turned to 'Walk', allowing a young woman with her Labrador to walk through. Coming from behind, a biker whizzed by.
Following behind the light rail car a few seconds later was Will's black Camaro. The digital clock on the dashboard changed to 7:01 as Will passed under a green light. Beside him, Jay was asleep and in the back seat, Tyler slouched back with his arms crossed against his chest and his eyes shut. Will signaled to the right and parked alongside a sidewalk in front of a parking meter. Slapping Jay and Tyler on the chests, Will motioned for them to get up.
Although the boys' appearances had changed, they knew they still had to be careful. Will wore a dark brown shirt with an unzipped gray hoodie and blue jeans. Jay was clothed in an army green track jacket that was zipped up to his neck. Underneath it, he wore a plain white shirt and a pair of jeans. Tyler, on the other hand, was wearing a white jacket and black t-shirt with a pair of dark gray jeans. On his head, he wore a gray baseball cap.
Will unlocked the two doors and stepped out his car while Jay opened his own door. Pulling on a lever under the chair, Jay moved his seat forward so Tyler could get out. Standing outside a tiny internet café, the three boys rubbed their tired eyes and exhaustedly yawned. It was approximately twelve hours since they left Buckley Rock. Stretching his arms, Will strode over to the sidewalk and looked at the neon 'OPEN' sign hanging in the front window of the internet café.
"What are we doing here, Will?" Jay moaned.
"We have to find somebody."
"Who?" Tyler asked as he covered his mouth to yawn.
"A man named Lawrence Hodge," Will answered. He walked up to the front door of the café and opened it.
"Never heard of him," Tyler replied as he followed Will into the building. "Who is he?"
"An old friend."
"Will he be able to help us?" Jay eagerly asked as the door closed behind him.
"We'll find out, won't we?" Will replied. He walked up to the front counter and tapped his fingers on the counter. The young man sitting behind the register looked like he was about to fall over. His eyes were closed and his arms were crossed against his chest as his body heaved up and down with each breath. "Hey."
The young man jolted up suddenly and grabbed at his head to keep his hat from falling off. Groaning, he looked at Will and asked, "How may I help ya'?"
"We'd like to use one of your computers," Will answered.
"Five bucks an hour," the young man muttered as he rubbed his red eyes.
"Alright," Will replied as he walked over to the rows of computers set across the shop. Jay and Tyler followed him and sat behind him as he turned on one of the computers.
Will waited for the computer to load and double-clicked a blue and orange icon on the desktop. A few seconds later, a window for the internet finally popped up on the screen and he typed into the address bar at the top, the URL for a website called Dex. Navigating through the website, Will found a page that would allow him to search for Lawrence Hodge. Entering the man's name into the search boxes provided, he clicked on the green button labeled 'SEARCH' and waited for the results to load.
Denver, CO – Six Years Ago
A tall, African-American man sat in a brown, leather chair in his office of the Bundy Cup headquarters. Bundy Cup was the brand name of a line of disposable paper cups; it wasn't a very well-known brand, but it had its fair share of buyers. The opaque door leading into the man's office was labeled with the name 'Lawrence Hodge' at its center. Under that were the words 'Regional Sales Manager'. Outside Hodge's office was a short, skinny woman with her black hair in a bun sitting behind an old, wooden desk. Beside the door was a row of chairs, one of which was occupied by a young Will Traveler.
Dressed in a light blue button-down shirt, black slacks, and a black blazer, Will sat idly while fumbling with his fingers. Although he was dressed in quite elegant clothes, Will looked anything but. His dark brown hair was short and slicked back, he had stubbles around his jaw, and his eyes looked tired and exhausted. Will tapped both sets of fingers against one another as he waited to be let into Hodge's office.
"You can go in now," the secretary told him as she set down the phone.
Will quickly bounced to his feet and took a deep breath. He opened the door to Lawrence Hodge's office and stepped inside. Hodge was a largely imposing man whose muscles seemed to be popping out from under his dark blue blazer. His head was shaved, but he had mustache around his mouth. A pair of wire-framed glasses sat atop his wide nose. Through them, he could see Will's agitated body walk slowly over to him.
"Hello, sir. My name's – "
"Stephen Mailer," Hodge finished for him. Shaking Will's tiny hands, Hodge added, "I've read a lot about you. You're pretty young to be a recruit."
Will faked an appreciative smile and said, "You can thank my uncle for that."
Hodge pointed his hand at one of the two seats in front of him and told Will, "Please, take a seat."
Will sat down in the brown chair and smiled uneasily at his new boss. Licking his dry lips, Will started looking around the room, observing every little thing there. To his left was a shelf full of books that appeared unread. Behind Hodge were filing cabinets; above them was a single picture frame of Hodge and a family. There appeared to be nothing else in the room. The walls were freshly painted white and the carpet looked fairly clean. Aside from the bookshelf and the cabinets, there was nothing else adorning the office.
"Are you a little uneasy, Stephen?" Hodge asked. He had noticed Will's apprehensiveness since he first stepped through the door.
Will shook his head and muttered, "No, sir."
"You sure?" Hodge asked.
"Yes, sir."
Hodge glowered at Will and looked him straight in the eyes. "Don't lie to me," he said in a menacing tone.
"I wouldn't sir," Will replied, his hands beginning to shake. He didn't want to show weakness, so he tried his best to calm down and stay still. "I'm just… tired."
"You're lying," Hodge said with a smile. Slouching back in his chair, Hodge folded his hands together before him and asked, "Do you lie a lot, Stephen?"
"No, sir," Will replied more calmly.
Nodding, Hodge said, "Good. Good. Can you tell when someone is lying?"
"Not particularly," Will answered.
Leaning forward, Hodge stared directly into Will's face. He could practically bore a hole into Will's eyes with his looming glance. "When you're as good as me, you can practically feel when someone is lying. Their eyes move around the room, their tones shift, their bodies shake. But not everyone has these certain tells. Some people can effectively disguise these tells. When you're as good as me, though, you just know when someone's lying."
"What are you trying to say, sir?"
"Nothing," Hodge replied, leaning back. "Just giving you a piece of advice. Make sure that's burned into your head. It's one of our standards around here."
The screen finally finished loading. There were two matches all together in the city of Denver. Will grabbed a piece of paper from the small stack beside the computer and took a pen out of his black backpack. He scribbled the two addresses and phone numbers onto the piece of paper and shut off the computer.
"C'mon, let's go," Will said to his friends.
Together, the three friends got up and left the café. Will pulled out a five-dollar bill and slapped it on the front counter as they exited. Outside, they walked to the edge of the street to a payphone. Dropping in a few quarters, Will dialed one of the numbers he'd written down.
"Hello?" the woman asked in a soft, tired voice.
"Hi, may I speak with Lawrence," Will replied.
"May I ask who this is?"
"Just tell him it's an old friend."
"Okay. I'll be right back," the woman said.
A few seconds later, a man came on the other end and asked in an old, raspy voice, "This is Lawrence." Immediately, Will hung up the phone.
"Well?" Jay asked.
Will showed him the piece of paper and said, "We've got an address."
Staten Island, NY
A loud German Shepard barked outside of a two-story, white and brown house that was lined by perfectly cut hedges and a nicely mowed lawn. The dog's owner tugged at its leash, forcing it to follow him up the quiet, friendly neighborhood. Inside the home was Allison Chambers. Wearing a light blue tank top and black shorts, she carried a laptop in her arms over to the kitchen table. The small, circular table sat beside the sliding glass door that led to the backyard. Atop the table was a bowl of milk with a box of cereal beside it.
Yawning, Allison set the laptop beside her bowl and opened the flap on the top of the cereal box. Unfolding the bag inside, she tipped the box over, dropping tiny corn flakes into the pool of cool, white milk. With a large silver spoon, she scooped up a bunch of corn flakes and stuffed them into her mouth. At the same time, she pressed the power button on her laptop. As she crunched down on the cereal, she waited for her computer to finish loading.
What Allison had found out the night before was still stuck in her head. Allison couldn't let go of the fact that her father apparently withheld information. It wasn't standard procedure to withhold vital information, especially information about the suspects. Maybe, she hoped, she just never realized they sent out the information about Traveler. However, Allison was pretty confident that she would've known about him if the FBI had released that information.
Once her laptop finished loading, Allison double-clicked on the orange and blue icon at the top left corner of her screen. She stuffed another mouthful of corn flakes into her mouth and chewed down on them with her pristine white teeth. With one hand, she typed Will's name into the search box and pressed 'Search'. Over nine-million results popped up. The first couple pages were concerned about the Drexler Bombing accomplice, but the rest seemed to either be about travel channels or some other random thing. Allison clicked on the first result, but the website that popped up only showed the sketch she had become familiar with. Scrolling down, she skimmed through the article to see if anything she'd read in her dad's file folder was in the article. Nothing.
"Hmm," Allison hummed as she went back to the results. She clicked on the second link and searched through the article as she chomped down on cereal. Again, she found nothing. Going back to the search bar, Allison typed in 'Will Traveler, October 13, 1961'. It was a wild guess, but Allison hoped that she could at least find his birth date in any of the news articles. Approximately one-million eight-thousand entries appeared, but none of them actually featured Will. Leaning back in her chair, Allison dropped her spoon into the bowl and looked out the glass door with a wondering look.
Buckley Rock, CO
Agent Mills stood outside city hall with a stack of fliers in one hand. With his other hand, he handed out a flier to each person that passed by. A man in a yellow t-shirt walked passed Mills, prompting him to snatch the flier on top of the stack and hand it to him. The man stared down at the flier as he walked away. Printed on the fliers was Jay's photograph with his name underneath. Above the picture was the question, 'Have you seen this man?'. At the very bottom of the page were two FBI hotlines – one for Denver and one for New York.
"Sheriff says he's possibly seen Burchell around before. He supposedly looks a lot different, though," Chambers angrily muttered as he walked up to Mills.
"What's he supposedly look like now?" Mills asked.
"Longer hair, clean-shaven," Chambers answered.
"That's it?" Mills replied as he handed two fliers out to a pair of girls walking by. "You're tellin' me none of these hicks down here recognized Burchell from all the times his mug was put on TV?"
Chambers nodded disappointedly and walked over to his and Mill's black car. He opened the passenger side door and looked over at Mills. "Sheriff said he'll get his men to hand out the fliers around town."
"Where are we goin'?" Mills asked with a perplexed look on his face.
"Sheriff also said he saw Burchell and two others around a local bar once in a while," Chambers revealed.
"Good," Mills sighed as he walked to the driver's side. "I could use a drink," he mumbled.
After driving for about ten minutes, Mills and Chambers reached a bar called Solomon's Key. Mills parked on the sidewalk and he and Chambers strode into the bar. Considering it was fairly early still, the bar was quite empty; there was only one other person there aside from the bartender.
"What can I get ya'?" the bartender, a middle-aged man with brown hair, asked cheerfully as Chambers and Mills walked up to his counter.
Chambers flashed him his badge and said, "Special Agent Chambers. I need to ask you a few questions."
The bartender nodded and replied in a startled voice, "Go ahead."
Chambers reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it and slid it over to the bartender. "You recognize this guy?"
The bartender stared at Jay's photo for a while. His eyes squinted and his brow furrowed a bit as he scanned the picture. Sighing, he said, "Sort of. I can't really tell if it's him, though."
"What did this person you're thinking of look like?" Chambers asked.
"His hair was kinda long," the bartender answered. "Couldn't really see his face 'cause his hair kinda hung over it."
"Did you see this guy a lot?"
"Not really. He'd turn up with these two other guys maybe once or twice a month," the bartender informed Chambers. "All they ever ordered were beers. Pretty quiet too. They never caused any trouble, always stayed by themselves in a booth."
"Thank you," Chambers said. The bartender nodded and turned away from them. Turning to Mills, Chambers asked, "What do you think?"
"I think they were here," Mills replied. "Question is: where."
"Oh, hey, I just remembered somethin'!" the bartender shouted as he hurried over to Chambers. Chambers and Mills both turned their attention towards the man and listened closely. "They always came together in a car – a black '67 Camaro, I think it was."
"A '67 Camaro?" Chambers repeated.
"Yup."
Nodding, Chambers grabbed Mills and dragged him out of the bar. Outside on the sidewalk, he grabbed his cellphone and dialed a number. Mills turned to him with a confused look and asked, "Who are you calling?"
Chambers raised a finger to quiet him and said, "Agent Rex, this is Chambers. I need you to check how many registered black 1967 Chevrolet Camaros are owned by residents of Buckley Rock, Colorado."
At the Field Office in New York, the beautiful brunette from the video room sat at her desk in front of a computer. Agent Rex was wearing a purple blouse under a black jacket and slacks. "Got it," she said into her cellphone. She dropped the pen in her hand onto the table after scribbling down the information Chambers had relayed to her.
Long Beach, CA
Felicia Cruz sat alone at the circular table in the dining room of her tiny home. It was a one-story house with a one-car garage and a small backyard. Felicia was dressed in a baby blue robe as she sipped on her mug of hot coffee. Across from her, there was another mug of coffee, the steam still filing out of it. As Felicia stared at the white wall of her dining room with a morose look on her face, the sound of a toilet flushing came from around the corner. The sound of rushing water mixed with the swirling toilet and seconds later, the door to the bathroom opened.
Looking up from her stupor, Felicia stared up at Gabriel Fog's intense, blue eyes. He was wearing a white button-down shirt and blue jeans with a heavy, brown jacket. Wiping his wet hands across his pant legs, he strode over to the dining table. Sliding down into his chair, he looked over at Felicia with a smile.
"Is everything alright, Ms. Cruz?" he asked her.
"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm okay," Felicia replied. "I'm just a little confused. What's this firm you work for again?"
"It's a crisis management firm – Fallbrook Dunn. Basically, we take care of others' problems, make them go away, make things a little easier," Gabriel said. Clearing his throat, he added, "A client of ours is in need of your son's help."
"What could my son do to help one of your clients?" Felicia asked, more confused than ever.
"That's private information, ma'am, I'm sorry," Gabriel replied. Smiling back at Felicia, he asked, "Anyways, may we continue the interview? There's only a few more I need to ask."
Reluctantly nodding, Felicia whispered, "Okay."
"Do you know anywhere your son would hide? Any friends? Relatives? Anybody?"
"No, I don't think so. Jay was never really close to family. After his father died, he had no connection to Tom's side of the family. And Jay and I – we never were that close so my relatives are out of the question. Really, his friends were all he had and last I heard, they're with him right now."
"Kim Doherty," Gabriel said, "what about her?"
Felicia shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. "I haven't heard from her in three months. I have no clue where she could be."
"What about his friends – Tyler Fog and Will Traveler? Do you know anything about them?" Gabriel questioned.
Shaking her head, Felicia answered, "No, not really. Like I said, we were never that close. The last time I saw Jay was before he left for Yale. I called him a few times, but he only mentioned Tyler and Will once in a while. Not enough to know where they could be right now."
"I understand," Gabriel nodded. "When the Drexler Bombing occurred, did he ever contact you?"
"No," Felicia replied. "I didn't expect him to anyways."
"Did you contact him?"
Instantly, Felicia's eyes shot up and stared at Gabriel. "No."
Nodding, Gabriel stood up and said, "Okay. I believe that's all the help I can get here. If anything turns up, call me at this number." Gabriel slid a small card over to Felicia and started for the door. Before he could leave, though, Felicia stopped him.
"I don't know why you're after my son," she started, "but I can assure you now that whatever he did or whatever your client wants him for, it's not his fault. Jay's a good kid; he's intelligent, kind-hearted. We may have never seen eye-to-eye, but Jay's a great person. He didn't do whatever everyone's saying he did."
"I never accused him of anything, Ms. Cruz," Gabriel replied.
"Good," Felicia muttered.
Gabriel wryly smiled at her as he held the front door open. Nodding one last time, he stepped out the house and disappeared down the driveway.
Denver, CO
Will parked the Camaro outside of a sprawling, thirty-story, high-rise apartment building in downtown Denver. The gray building stood tall, but looked puny amongst the other towering structures around it. Up and down the street walked pedestrians of all walks of life. Jay, Tyler, and Will blended in perfectly with all the people scrambling around the street. They headed for the apartment building and walked straight towards the elevators. At the front counter of the building sat a man with blonde hair in a red outfit with gold trimming. He sat in front of several monitors and a computer while sitting back in his chair, reading the morning newspaper. Off to the side stood an imposing man with burly shoulders and a puffed out chest. He was wearing a black security guard uniform and was armed with a black baton at his side.
The three boys stood in front of the three elevators; Jay leaned over and pressed the up button. As the boys stood there waiting for an elevator, they noticed the security guard eyeing them. A ping sound emanated from one of the elevators and the doors slid open. A man in a black business suit strolled out and headed towards the front door as Jay, Tyler, and Will entered the elevator. Even as they stepped inside the small elevator, the security guard in the corner surveyed them. The mechanical doors slid to a close a second later and Will pressed the button for the fourteenth floor.
"So this Hodge guy – who is he really? You work with him before?" Jay asked Will intently.
"He's my old boss," Will answered.
"I thought Freed gave the orders," Tyler chimed in.
"He did, but we never got our orders directly from him," Will replied. "There was always a middle-man."
"And in your case, it was Lawrence Hodge?" Jay guessed.
Will nodded and said, "Yeah, he directed our unit."
"So there are other people – like you?"
"They're all gone now… I guess," Will replied as the doors slid open once more. Waving for Jay and Tyler to follow him, he said, "C'mon, he's probably still asleep."
"We're really just gonna go break into his apartment and hold him hostage?" Tyler asked. "Guys, the last time we tried this, I almost ended up getting caught."
"That won't happen this time," Will quickly answered. "We're actually gonna stick together."
Tyler rolled his eyes behind Will and stopped in front of Hodge's door. Pulling out a handheld drill, Will began boring a hole through the lock. The doorknob twitched a few seconds later, signaling to Will he had accomplished the first phase of the boys' plan. Carefully, Will turned the doorknob and eased the door open, making sure he didn't make a single sound. As soon as he had the door open enough for them to sneak in, he motioned for Jay and Tyler to do so.
The two snuck between the door and the doorframe and headed into the foyer of the luxurious apartment. Will entered after them and quietly closed the door. Reaching at his belt, Will pulled out a black USP and placed his back against a wall. Jay and Tyler did the same and followed Will's lead into the living room. Waving the gun in front of him, Will cautiously checked the entire room to make sure Hodge wasn't near. So far, it seemed as if he was still sleeping.
Entering the apartment's kitchen, Will craned his head around the corner to peek into the next hallway.. Jay kept his eyes behind them while Will took the lead. He slowly walked down the hallway and carefully opened each door. The first door he opened led to the bathroom; the second was just a closet filled with jackets and shoes. At the end of the hallway, the sound of a TV emanated from a door. There were three doors there, but only one of them contained the sound of people cheering on the TV. Will clutched the doorknob and turned it. He immediately kicked the door open and aimed his gun at the bed. However, there was no one there.
"Put the gun down," a stern voice said from behind. Turning, Will and Tyler realized Hodge had captured Jay. He had Jay in a headlock with a black 9 mm directed at the side of his head.
Despite Hodge's orders, Will kept his gun trained on the man. Refusing to surrender, he stared Hodge in the eyes and asked, "Remember me?"
With a perplexed look on his face, Hodge scowled at Will. Observing every inch of Will's face, Hodge's eyes lit up. "Mailer?" he mumbled. Will nodded.
New York FBI Field Office
"Director Chambers, I've got that info you wanted," Agent Rex said into her cellphone. Shown on the screen of her computer was an address leading somewhere to Buckley Rock.
"Alright, what do you have?" Chambers eagerly asked.
"There's only one registered resident in Buckley Rock with a 1967 Chevy Camaro," Rex informed her boss. "His name is Aaron Smithee. Address is 1495 South Willow Drive."
Chambers repeated the address and said, "Okay. Good work, Rex."
Agent Rex nodded to herself and hung up her cellphone. She stuffed it in her pocket and picked up a folder of papers that was set off to the side. Holding them close to her, she got up from her chair and headed out of the bullpen. Before she could leave, though, Allison ran into her on her way to Chambers' office.
"Hey, Nicole," Allison called as she passed by Agent Rex.
Rex spun around and smiled at Allison. "Hi, Allison. How are you?"
"I'm good," Allison replied quickly. "Do you mind if I ask you some questions?"
Rex looked around the room a little then turned to Allison and nodded. "Sure, why not. Go ahead."
"Will Traveler – what can you tell me about him?" Allison asked.
"Well, pretty much all we know has been released to all our media outlets already," Rex replied. "Why?"
"I'm doing a report on the Drexler Bombing for school. I was hoping to get a little more information on him since there's not that much out there."
Nodding, Rex said, "All I know is that Burchell and Fog initially blamed him for the Drexler Bombing. When your father's team searched the databases for him, they found nothing, but he eventually turned up in Boston, Massachusetts. Turns out he was working with Burchell and Fog all along and helped them escape from New York."
"That's it?" Allison asked, disappointed.
"Yup. I'm afraid so," Rex replied with a crooked smile.
"What about any pictures?"
"We had a surveillance photo of him from Boston Hall, but it's gone now. Jan Marlow – that agent that was in cahoots with the boys the whole time – took it with her when she disappeared."
"So all you guys have is that sketch?" Rex nodded in response. Pushing, Allison asked, "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. We would've released it to the media if we had one."
Dejectedly nodding, Allison said to Rex, "Thanks for the help."
"No problem," Rex replied, smiling. "By the way, not many news stations or newspapers got this since it wasn't really that important, but apparently, Traveler's from some town in Maine called Deer Harbor."
"Deer Harbor?" Allison repeated. Nodding, Rex smiled and raised her eyebrows. "Alright, thanks."
Denver, CO
With both their guns still positioned on one another, Hodge and Will stared each other down. Jay clutched Hodge's bulging arm as it wrapped around his neck, but he could do nothing to get out of the hold. Tyler, meanwhile, stayed behind Will, watching him and Hodge.
"Last I heard, you'd gone rogue," Hodge said to Will. "What are you doing here?"
"I need answers," Will replied.
"Answers to what?" Hodge asked.
"Who we worked for."
"What are you talking about, Mailer? You know who we worked for – Freed."
"I'm not stupid, Hodge," Will retorted. "Freed gave the orders, someone else pulled the strings."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Hodge replied.
"Don't lie to me!" Will burst.
Hodge pressed the nozzle of his gun against Jay's head and said, "I don't think you're in a position to threaten me, Mailer. I got your friend's life in my hands and I'm willing to drop it."
"You shoot him, I'll kill you," Will coldly stated.
"You wouldn't risk it," Hodge replied. "Don't forget you worked under me for nearly four years, Mailer. I know how you think, how you act, everything."
"Things are different this time, Hodge!"
Tilting his head, Hodge smirked tauntingly at Will and asked, "Now how many times have you told me that?"
Denver, CO – Six Years Ago
The balconies of a ten-story apartment building faced Cherry Creek in Lower Downtown Denver. A bird sat on the edge of the creek, pecking at the flowing water, as a child and his babysitter stood across. The little boy reached forward to touch the water while his nanny made sure he didn't fall in. Standing at one of the balconies at the apartment was Will. The sliding glass door leading into the balcony was open with Will's right hand pressed up against it and the left side of his body leaning against the frame.
Dressed in a black button-down shirt and blue denim jeans, Will stared aimlessly across at the streaming water. His intense blue eyes disguised a troubled and distressed look hurting to come out. The look on his face was one of stoic indifference, but his shivering fingers noted otherwise. Behind him, Will heard a sound and swiftly spun around. With his left hand, he pointed a black handgun at the figure that had just entered his room. However, he sighed and holstered his weapon.
"What is it?" Will asked solemnly.
"You look sad," Hodge said as he stepped into the sunlight bathing Will's bedroom. "Something wrong?"
"You know what happened," Will replied without looking his boss in the eyes.
"Things like that happen all the time, Stephen," Hodge assured him. "You just have to go with it."
"It was my fault."
"You're a rookie. You're bound to make mistakes," Hodge said. He sat down at the edge of Will's bed and reached into his jacket pocket. "Mind if I light a cigarette?"
"Go ahead," Will sighed as he slid the glass door to a close and leaned back against it. Rubbing the back of his head, he asked, "What do you want?"
"I just wanted to see how you were doing," Hodge replied.
Sarcastically, Will answered, "I'm doing great."
"Don't beat yourself up over what happened, Mailer," Hodge told him as he took a drag. Blowing smoke out in front of him, he added, "Besides, the mission was a success. Those terrorists won't be seeing the light of day any time soon, and it's all thanks to you. You should be proud."
"Someone died," Will interrupted.
"It's not your job to save everybody, Mailer," Hodge said sternly. He stood up and walked over to Will. Leaning towards his face, Hodge said, "Not everyone can be saved nor should they be."
"She was one of us."
"She was a traitor!" Hodge exploded. Pointing the cigarette at Will's face, he shouted, "How many times am I going to have to explain to you, she betrayed us!"
"She had no other choice," Will said, his lips quivering.
Grabbing Will by the collar of his shirt, Hodge pushed him up against the glass door. "Look at me and tell me that if she put a gun to your head, you wouldn't have fought back. Huh? Well?" Will refused to answer and tried to avert his eyes from Hodge's. Hodge let go of his shirt collar, but grabbed his jaw. He turned Will to face him and said, "You can't be emotional or friendly in this line of work. You can't afford to be! You have to be ready to kill at any given moment. You understand me?"
Reluctantly nodding, Will grimaced at Hodge and replied, "Yeah, I get it."
Satisfied, Hodge let go of Will and adjusted his shirt collar. He slid the glass door open and flicked his cigarette outside. Taking a deep breath, he turned and began to walk away. "You're next mission is in here," Hodge snuck in as he tossed a file folder from his jacket pocket onto Will's bed. "Let's hope you don't screw up again."
Will watched Hodge leave, but before he disappeared down the hall, Will mumbled, "It'll be different next time."
Hodge turned his head, but didn't face Will. A content smile appeared on his face and he replied, "That's what I like to hear."
"Let him go, Hodge," Will demanded as he cocked his USP.
"Shoot me, Mailer," Hodge replied. "I know you won't. You wouldn't be here if you were just going to kill me!"
"Will, put the gun down!" Jay gasped as he held onto Hodge's arm.
"Shut up, Jay!" Will replied.
"It's not your call to make, Will! I'm the one he's got!" Jay retorted. "Put your gun down!"
Will glared at Jay then shifted his glance up to Hodge. Raising his arms in the air, he set the gun cautiously on the floor and slid it to the right, sending it crashing into the wall.
"Now that's a good boy," Hodge taunted. He kept his gun pressed against Jay's head and asked, "What are you here for?"
Will opened his mouth to answer, but before he could do so, Jay elbowed Hodge in his gut. The force of his blow caused Hodge's arm to loosen its grip around Jay's neck. Swiftly, Will lunged forward and grabbed Hodge's hand that held the gun. As Jay got out of the hold and dove forward to grab Will's USP, Will twisted Hodge's arm around and slammed Hodge's wrist against his knee. Groaning, Hodge did his best to hold onto the gun. However, Will slammed Hodge's wrist against his knee twice, forcing him to drop the gun. Hurriedly, Will wrapped his arm around Hodge's neck while still twisting his arm.
"Get down!" Will barked as he brought Hodge to his knees.
Gritting his teeth, Hodge tried to wrestle his arm out of the hold, but Will wouldn't budge. He stared up and glared at Jay who was holding Will's gun at his head. Shaking his head, Hodge angrily glowered at the two boys before him.
Buckley Rock, CO
Dozens of police officers surrounded Jay, Tyler, and Will's condominium. Outside, several squad cars were parked in front of the condo with their sirens blazing. Along the sidewalk stood several pedestrians trying to get a good look at what was happening inside the condo. Inside the house, Chambers and Mills stood in the living room while others searched the house.
Chambers holstered his weapon and turned to Mills, "Looks like they left in a hurry."
"Yup," Mills replied. "They didn't bother to take much with them. There's bound to be a lot of chemical evidence here."
"You stay here and search the rooms. I'm gonna talk to their neighbor." Mills nodded as Chambers exited the living room. Standing in the middle of the boys' driveway was their next door neighbor, Jen, who was standing beside one of the Deputies. She was wearing a black tank top and blue shorts. Her arms were crossed against her chest as she spoke to the man in uniform. As Chambers walked over to them, he called out to the Deputy, "I've got it from here."
The deputy nodded and walked away as Chambers grabbed Jen by the elbow and dragged her away to one of the squad cars. "What are you doing?" Jen asked she Chambers dragged her down the driveway.
"I am Director Fred Chambers of the New York FBI Field Office. I'm questioning you," Chambers replied. "He let go of Jen once they were in front of one of the police cars and asked, "What's your name?"
"Jen Jennings," Jen muttered.
"Ms. Jennings, did you know who your neighbors were?"
"No, not really. I knew their names, but I never knew 'em personally," Jen replied. "Why? What's going on? The Deputy didn't tell me anything."
"Your three neighbors – they were the suspects for the Drexler Bombing in New York City," Chambers answered. "We lost track of them three months ago and for some reason, one of them just resurfaced last night."
A stunned expression took over Jen's face. She looked like she was going to keel over and collapse as she grabbed at her forehead. "I-I didn't know. They didn't look much like the guys on TV."
"Can you describe how they looked when they resided here?" Chambers asked as he waved for an officer to come over to them.
"Y-Yeah," Jen stuttered. "Um… one of them had short blonde hair and green eyes. He's the one I knew the most. He said his name was Ryan; he never gave a last name."
"His hair – how short would you say it was?" Chambers questioned.
"It was – um – spiked up with gel. I never saw it down or anything and he wore a hat whenever it wasn't spiked up," Jen answered.
"And the others?"
"One of them had black hair, it was kinda long," Jen replied. "I don't really know how to describe it."
Chambers pulled out a picture of Jay and displayed it to Jen. "Did he look like this?"
Jen's eyes lit up brightly and she repeated, "Yeah. Yeah. He-He sorta looked like that, just with less facial hair and his hair was longer."
"You getting this?" Chambers asked the officer he'd called over. The young man was scribbling down the descriptions Jen was giving them. He nodded in response to Chambers, who turned back to Jen to listen. "And the third?"
"The last guy – I didn't see him much. I think he had a job at the Basin. He was always gone during the day," Jen said. "He was a short guy and had really messy hair like he never bothered combing it or something."
"Any facial hair?"
"Yeah. Yeah. He looked like he only shaved every once in a while. Last time I saw him, he hadn't shaved."
"So he had a beard?" Chambers asked.
"No. No. Not a beard," Jen quickly responded. "More like – um – stubbles or something across his jaw and mouth area."
"Was he shorter than the others?"
"Yeah, he was a few inches shorter than both the other two," Jen replied.
Chambers turned to the policeman next to him and muttered, "Will Traveler. Get me composite sketches of their new looks right away." He looked back at Jen as the officer nodded and pulled out a radio. To Jen, he questioned, "You sure you didn't know who these guys were?"
Jen looked at Chambers with an appalled look and shouted, "Do you really think I'd help some terrorists?! I had no idea who these guys were! They looked like ordinary guys to me, okay? How was I supposed to know they blew up some museum?!"
"It was all over the news," Chambers replied.
"If you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of nowhere here. We're five hours away from the nearest Wal-Mart for Christ's sake," Jen retorted.
"Calm down, Ms. Jennings," Chambers told her. "If you don't then I'll be forced to put you in handcuffs."
Jen sighed and said, "I'm-I'm sorry. I'm just scared right now. Our news channels barely ever showed the reports on the Bombing so I didn't know. I'm sorry."
"I understand, but I need your full cooperation if we're going to catch these guys."
Jen nodded and asked, "What else do you need?"
"What names were your neighbors going under?"
"I didn't know their last names, but like I said, one of them was named Ryan, the one with the black hair was Brent, and the short one was named Aaron or something like that."
The officer beside Chambers wrote down the fake names and looked up at Chambers as he asked, "Is there anything else you can remember about these guys that could possibly help us?"
Jen shook her head despondently and said, "I didn't know a thing about them. We barely ever spoke, I saw them leave the house maybe once or twice a week. They were practically ghosts. I didn't think anything of it before, but now…"
Chambers nodded and turned to the officer behind him. "Officer Reddick, make sure Ms. Jennings is properly taken care of."
"Yes, sir," the policeman said as Chambers walked off.
"What is it?" Chambers asked Mills as he walked up the front porch.
Mills flashed a piece of paper at Chambers and smiled. "We found bills. This condo was leased to three assumed names: Aaron Smithee, Ryan Hadley, and Brent Foss."
"Good work," Chambers congratulated Mills. "Get our agents on the phone and have them search every database for those names. I want to know everything these guys have been doing the past three months."
Denver, CO
Hodge's body was now bound to a wooden chair in the middle of his living room. His wrists were wrapped in duct tape and held down to the chair's arms while his chest was bound to the spine of the chair with a spool of rope. To his left, Jay closed the blinds while Will sat in front of him with a gun in his hand. Jay sat down on the couch behind Will while Tyler leaned back against the wall. The two friends watched Will's handiwork as he pressed the barrel of the USP against Hodge's forehead.
"What's the Fourth Branch?" Will demanded to know.
"Even if I knew, you think I'd tell you?" Hodge asked mockingly.
Without warning, Will brought the gun down to Hodge's left thigh and popped off a shot. A bullet injected itself into Hodge's left leg, forcing a howl out of his lips. He began hopping up and down and biting his teeth together, but he was helpless to the pain. Will lifted the gun back up and jammed it against Hodge's head.
"I'm not playing with you, Hodge. Give me what I want and I'll let you go," Will told him. Behind him, Tyler grimaced at the sight of blood pouring out of the huge wound on Hodge's thigh.
"Tell us what the Fourth Branch is!" Jay shouted.
"If you don't give us answers, you're just making yourself useless," Will said. "You remember what you told me to do to people that are useless, right?"
"When I get out of this, Mailer, I am going to make you suffer like you never have before!" Hodge threatened.
"The one person I loved is dead and my country is out to get me. Suffering? You haven't seen anything yet," Will bluntly retorted, cocking the gun against Hodge's head.
"Just tell us what we want to know and you can go free!" Tyler interjected. "We're not murderers; we have consciences."
"Tell that to your friend here," Hodge replied, pointing his chin towards Will.
With the butt of his handgun, Will smacked Hodge across the jaw. Angrily, he grabbed Hodge by the collar of his shirt and pushed him backwards, tilting his chair. "Don't push me."
"You were a lot more threatening when you were backed by real agents instead of these two nitwits," Hodge taunted.
Jay hopped on his feet and grabbed Hodge's gun from the coffee table. He pointed it at Hodge and demanded, "Tell us about the Fourth Branch!"
"Oh, did I hurt your feelings?" Hodge asked mockingly.
"I will take your other leg out if you don't give us something right now," Will threatened as he lowered his gun.
"I'm telling you, Mailer, I don't know a damn thing about what you're talking about."
"Lies!" Will shouted as he hit Hodge across the face again. Bringing Hodge's face closer to his, he muttered, "Don't play games with me, Hodge. You should know better. You taught me how to do this." Will let go of Hodge's collar and stood back with his arms across his chest.
Swinging his head around, Hodge sighed angrily. He bit his teeth together and glowered up at Will with a defeated look. "If I told you anything, then I'm as good as dead anyways."
"If you're gonna die either way, then help us, help me," Will replied. "You know me, Hodge. You know I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't believe it was the right thing to do."
Shaking his head vigorously, Hodge said, "I can't do that, Stephen."
Will gritted his teeth and reeled his arm back to hit Hodge across the face. However, his ears caught the sound of a doorknob wriggling. Jay and Tyler heard the noise too; their heads turned towards the foyer of the apartment and their necks craned to get a better look. The doorknob turned once and the door flung open as a little boy ran through. Behind him, a middle-aged woman staggered in juggling a few bags of groceries.
Inside the living room, Will and his friends turned to Hodge. A horrified and dismayed expression crossed his face as he watched his son sprint into the room with a happy smile on his face. "Daddy! Daddy!" the little boy cheered. He had no clue his father was tied up. As he got closer, though, the little boy noticed the tape around Hodge's wrists and the robe around his chest. "Daddy, what's wrong?"
"Hey," Jay mumbled from the couch. He stood up and started stalking towards the little boy who looked up at him with scared, doe eyes.
"Who are they, Daddy?" the little boy asked.
"Just some friends," Hodge replied. "Go to your room."
"He stays!" Will ordered.
"Hey, come here, little guy," Jay said softly to the boy. He extended his left hand and motioned for Hodge's son to come to him. "C'mon, I won't hurt you."
"Lawrence, didn't I tell you to put away our laundry?" Hodge's wife called as she walked towards the living room from around the corner. As she turned the corner and stared into the room, her eyes bulged. Her jaw slackening, she frightfully asked, "What's going on?!"
Nervously, the woman reached for her son, but Jay grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the couch. In front of him, Will stepped forward and stared the woman down. By himself in the corner, Tyler looked around without a clue as to what he should do.
"Give me back my son! Who are you people?!" Hodge's wife screamed.
"Calm down!" Will barked as he waved his gun at her.
"Don't you wave that thing at my wife, Mailer!" Hodge shouted with a fiery look in his eyes. "Don't you dare."
"Will," Jay whispered from the couch. He held on to Hodge's son's little hand, but he made sure not to hold on too tightly. He wanted the boy to know he was safe, but he wasn't about to let their leverage get away.
"Be quiet, Jay," Will told him. "I'll handle this."
"Will, you're not gonna hurt these people!" Jay shouted as he looked up at his friend.
With his gun still trained on Hodge's wife, Will said to Jay, "You're the one that wanted the truth so badly, Jay." Turning to Hodge's wife, he instructed, "Sit down."
"Who the hell are you?!" Hodge's wife shrieked.
"I said, sit down!" Will barked as he grabbed the woman by her shoulders.
"Don't you touch her!" Hodge screamed frantically as Will forced his wife onto a chair.
Keeping the gun on Hodge's wife's head, Will said, "Tyler, get that tape and tie her up. Make sure she can't move."
Tyler looked up at Will questioningly with a confused look on his face. "Will," he muttered.
"Now!"
"No," Tyler retorted.
"What'd you say?" Will asked, looking over at his friend.
"I said, no!" Tyler countered. "These are innocent people, Will. Now I said I'd do anything to find these answers, but I didn't think we would go this far!"
"Like I told you before, Tyler," Will said, "people are going to die."
Tyler shook his head and opened his mouth, but Jay interrupted. "He's right, Will." Jay stood up, his hand still around the scared little boy's hand. He set his gun on the coffee table and said, "I'm not going to shoot a little boy."
Will shot both Jay and Tyler a striking look then turned to Hodge. Angered, Will desperately grabbed Hodge's wife by the shoulder and dragged her over to Hodge. Jay and Tyler both looked on in a nervous haze as Will placed Hodge's wife's head in front of his and pointed the gun at the back of her neck.
"They may not be willing to do it, but I am," Will reminded Hodge.
Hodge glared at him with a fierce look. "I am going to kill you," he muttered through gritted teeth.
"Quit acting tough, Hodge," Will told him. He cocked the gun. "You and I both know you are not going to put her life on the line!"
"Mommy!" the son called from the couch. He tried to get out of Jay's grasp to comfort his mother, but Jay refused to let go. "Mommy!" he called again.
"Baby! Baby!" Hodge's wife shouted. Tears began coming down her face. "Please. Please. Don't do this!"
As Hodge's body heaved up and down with every gasping breath, he glared up at Will. Sweat trickled down his forehead and saliva dripped along the side of his lip. With all his strength, he tried to wrestle his way out of the binds. No matter what, though, he was helpless; he struggled against the rope around his chest and the tape around his wrists, but he couldn't do a thing. His heartbeat racing, Hodge threatened Will, "Mailer, I swear to God – "
"Don't give me that bullshit," Will retorted. "You will tell us what we want to know or you're about to swim in her blood and brain matter!"
Hodge's breathing got louder and heavier with each breath. Shaking his head, he put his forehead against his wife's hair and cringed. Suddenly, tears began streaming down his face. The angry expression on his face changed to a look of despair and anxiety. He looked up at Will pleadingly and begged, "Please, don't kill them. Don't kill them, I'm begging you."
In a softer, considerate tone, Will said, "Then give us what we want."
Hodge kissed his wife on the head and looked up at Will through his tears. Sniffing, he mumbled, "I don't know the specifics, but the Fourth Branch is a secret society."
"Go on," Will urged. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a tape record. He pressed the circular red button and listened in.
"They're behind most of America's decisions," Hodge muttered. "I don't know who they are. I don't even know if they really exist. All I know is that Freed said that what we were doing was for them and for the good of this country!"
"The whole time?" Will gasped. His rage was beginning to swell up inside. "The whole time, we've been working for them? All the missions, all the spying, all of it! It was for them?!"
Still crying, Hodge nodded desperately and said, "Yes, it was all for them." Will lifted the barrel of his gun from Hodge's wife's neck and stepped back. "That's all I know. Please…" Hodge mumbled weakly.
Will holstered his weapon and stopped the tape recorder. He stuffed it back into his pocket and turned to Jay and Tyler, "Let the kid go. We're leaving."
Jay let the little boy go and followed Will across the room. Tyler followed them as well as the little boy ran passed to hold his crying mother. Will grabbed the tape off the drawer against the wall, prompting Jay to ask, "What are you doing?"
"Giving us enough time to get away," Will replied. He unraveled the tape and strode over to Hodge's wife and son. "We'll tell the guy at the front desk to check on you guys in five minutes. Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you." Will grabbed Hodge's wife and set her down on the chair he had her on before. With the tape, he wrapped his wrists around the arms then turned to the little boy. He held out his hand and said, "C'mon, just give me your hands. I'm not gonna hurt you." Will looked at the little boy with urging eyes and waved for him to give him his hands. Kindly, he added, "C'mon, I'm the good guy here." Giving up, the little boy set his hand down on Will's palm. Will grabbed it and tied it behind the boy's back along with his other hand. "I'm sorry I had to do this."
Standing up, Will hurried to the front door to join Jay and Tyler. Tyler opened the door and cautiously looked both ways. He stepped out the apartment followed by Jay and Will.
"What now?" Tyler asked.
"We'll worry about our next step later," Will replied.
"No, stop," Jay told Will. "What the hell was that in there, Will? We're in this to find answers not murder innocent people."
Will looked at his friend with a defiant expression and stated, "You didn't really think I'd kill them did you, Jay? C'mon, I'm not that coldhearted."
Jay and Tyler exchanged questioning glances, but left the thoughts behind. Jay looked back at Will with a relieved look and said, "Whatever. For now, we should just find somewhere to hide."
Will nodded in reply and followed Jay and Tyler over to the elevator. He pressed one of the buttons and waited for the elevator to rise. Less than a second later, the mechanical doors slid open and the three boys hurried inside.
Somewhere Over Nevada
A small, white, corporate jet with the Fog Financial logo across the side soared through the luminescent blue sky. The tiny jet could only hold a few people, but the only folks onboard were the pilot and co-pilot and Gabriel Fog. In the lavish cabin of the jet sat Gabriel Fog with his hand on the miniature remote for the plasma screen TV mounted across from him. As he looked up at the female news reporter on the screen, his mind wandered away into the abysses of his memory.
U.S. Medical Center for Federal Criminals – New York – 24 Hours Ago
"We have a problem… with your brother," Carlton Fog rasped. The breathing apparatus around his mouth filled with moisture then drained away as he breathed heavily.
"Is he alright?" Gabriel worriedly asked.
"Your brother is the problem, Gabriel," Carlton muttered. "He needs to be dealt with."
"What are you talking about, Dad?" Gabriel cautiously asked. "What do you mean Tyler's the problem?"
"You must forgive me fo-for what I'm about to tell you," Carlton uttered. He tried to clear his throat, but to no avail. He looked at his son with a sorrowful expression and said, "It's my fault your brother's in this mess."
"What?" Gabriel jolted up.
"They promised all our problems would go away if I gave up Tyler," Carlton said. "They said they'd take care of things, make them all better."
"You were a part of this?" Gabriel gasped.
Carlton weakly nodded and continued, "I had to do it, son. You have to believe me. You have to forgive me. It was for the good of the family."
Cringing, Gabriel slowly eased towards his father. He held his father's old, weak hand and clasped his own hand around it. Rubbing his father's wrinkly palm, Gabriel grievingly said, "What do I have to do?"
Gabriel's blank eyes stared up at the screen of the TV as the reporter disappeared and a new image took her place. It was the first time Gabriel actually paid attention to the screen. Licking his pursed lips, he observantly looked up at the images flashing before him. His eyes widened as he saw the new composite sketches of Jay, Tyler, and Will being posted up on the screen.
"What you are seeing here, folks are the recently released composite sketches of the Drexler Bombing suspects," the reporter said behind the scenes. The photos of Jay and Tyler were manipulated photographs the FBI had been using while the one of Will was another drawing. "The FBI has just released a brief statement claiming the three suspects have resurfaced. Director Fred Chambers of the New York Field Office who previously led the manhunt for these suspects is set to make an announcement later today."
Denver, CO
The elevator doors flew open and Jay, Tyler, and Will hurriedly walked out. They headed towards the front door, but Jay stopped to tell the young man at the front desk. The young man was turned around, though, looking at the TV, forcing Jay to knock his knuckles against the counter.
"Hey," he called, prompting the young man to turn.
"Hi, how may I help you?" the young man asked. With a remote control, he turned the volume on the tiny TV behind him down and looked up at Jay. As he did, his brow furrowed and his eyes squinted at Jay's face.
Jay noticed the quizzical look on the young man's face and said, "Yeah – um – my friends in Room 120 asked if you could send them a reminder to come down here in five minutes. Their clock broke or something so they need an alarm. Is that cool?"
"Yes, sir, we'll make sure to do that," the young man replied. Jay nodded and smiled at him. As he turned away, the young man continued eyeing him. He suddenly stood up and shouted, "Hey, do I know you from somewhere?"
"What?" Jay asked as he turned around.
"Do I know you from somewhere?" the young man repeated.
Jay shrugged and shook his head. Behind him, Tyler anxiously held the door open and tapped his foot while Will stood outside ready to leave. "No, I don't think so."
"Oh," the young man muttered. "Oh, well." He turned back around and went back to watching the TV as Jay gave a sigh of relief. Sitting behind the desk, the young man's eyes widened as he looked at his TV. The man he had just seen on the screen looked nearly identical to Jay. Quickly, he turned to the security guard and called, "Hey, get those guys!"
Jay and Tyler turned around with surprised looks on their faces as the security guard charged towards. Tyler cursed under his breath as he and Jay hurried over to Will's car. Unfortunately, there was no time to take the car as the guard managed to grab Jay's hood before he could make it to the sidewalk. Seeing his friend in trouble, Tyler ran over to him and grabbed his hand. He tried to pull Jay away, but the guard held on tight. Suddenly, Will fired a shot off in the air, causing the guard to let go of Jay's hood. Jay and Tyler quickly ran over to Will's car and hopped in as the guard started shouting.
"Cops! Cops!"
Will frantically started the engine of his car, all the while cursing beneath his breath. Once the car engine roared, Will stomped on the gas and pulled into the street, nearly smashing into a white four-door passing by. He sped up the street and weaved through traffic. Across the street, a police officer noticed the Camaro slithering through traffic and gave chase.
"Cops," Tyler gasped in the back seat.
Will grabbed the gear shifter and quickly shifted to third gear as he pressed down on the gas and clutch. Behind them, the squad car's speakers burst to life.
"Pull over. You in the black Camaro, pull over right now," the officer instructed.
Shaking his head to himself, Will continued on down the street and made a sharp right. He almost dodged the squad car, but the policeman hit the brakes and followed him down the street. Chugging through the streets of downtown Denver, Will sped by several cars. He scraped the side of his Camaro against a car driving alongside him, but he kept on driving. The patrol car followed persistently, nearly hitting a car that was pulling out of its parking spot. With the sirens blazing right behind them, Will, Jay, and Tyler's hearts began racing. They hadn't felt this way in months. It was still an all too familiar feeling, though. Will swerved to avoid hitting a semi-truck and made a left turn with the cops right on their tail.
Tyler turned his head to see through the back windshield. The squad car was still right on them. Every other sound seemed to be drowned out by the call of the sirens. In the passenger seat, Jay looked at the side mirror to get a good look on the patrol car. Suddenly, his side slammed against the door as Will made a sharp left down a street. A black coupe stopped right in front of them, just before it smashed into their side. Across the street, all the cars stopped even though the lights had turned green. The cops sped through the frozen street and followed Will's Camaro down the hill.
As Will crossed the intersection, another patrol car joined in the chase. Together, the two patrol cars chased after the Camaro like race horses down a track. One of the squad cars caught up to Will and slammed into his rear bumper. Will tried to pull away, but the squad car kept slamming into him. Pulling up alongside his car, the policemen slammed into the passenger side, sending the Camaro careening across the street. Will tried to regain control of the car, but he was unable to before it jumped the curb. A man carrying a box leaped out of the way as the Camaro barreled through a blue mailbox and charged down the street. The second patrol car came up from behind and tried to catch the boys, but Will blocked its every move. The car kept trying to pull up beside the Camaro again, but Will refused to let it. Suddenly, though, the first squad car pulled up alongside the Camaro and hit Will's side.
Although Will was certainly rocked, he didn't allow it to slow him down. He shifted up to fifth gear and raced down the street with the cops right on his tail. A line of cars blocked the way ahead of him, but Will recklessly drove on through. He smashed into the rear bumpers of two cars and sent them flying as he raced across the street. The two squad cars behind him followed, but were forced to stop when a semi-truck drove through in front of them. They both began honking at the truck as Will sped away. The boys gave off sighs of relief, but their celebration was far from at hand. A yelp escaped Will's lips as he tried to swerve out of the way of a red SUV. He wasn't able to in time and the large car slammed its grill into the Camaro's driver side. Spinning out of control, Will grabbed a hold of the steering wheel and hit the brakes. The car skidded along the street and hit the curb; it almost tipped over, but stopped and its wheels hit right back down on the road.
In their seats, Will, Jay, and Tyler breathed heavily and stared out the windows with blank stared. The car's engine had stalled, forcing Will to restart the car. He twisted the key in the ignition, but all they heard was the sputtering of gears and pistons. He tried again, but still, the engine refused to start. Cursing, Will punched the steering wheel and hopped out the car. Jay and Tyler followed and together, they ran down the sidewalk.
"They're coming," Jay muttered as he listened to the sirens blazing behind them.
"C'mon, down here," Will suggested. He led Jay and Tyler into an alley and they quickly made their way through it.
Suddenly, a brown sedan stopped them at the end of the alley. The three boys were prepared to turn and run, but they stopped as soon as the driver's side door opened. Stepping out of the brown four-door was the Porter. He looked over at the boys with a stern and stoic expression just like always.
"Get in the car! Now!" the Porter ordered.
Frenetically, Jay and Tyler hurried into the car. Jay ran around the side to get into the front seat while Tyler leaped into the back. Meanwhile, Will remained still in the middle of the alley. He stared at the Porter with a questioning and distrustful look.
"What are you waiting for? Get in the car!" the Porter barked.
"Who are you?" Will asked as he felt the handle of his gun.
"Get in the car now!"
Tyler stuck his neck outside and shouted, "Just get in the car! We'll explain later!"
Will let go of his weapon and sprinted down the alley. He hurried into the back seat and slammed the door as the Porter got back into the driver's seat and sped away. The tires of the sedan grinded loudly against the concrete street as it raced away from the scene.
Denver FBI Field Office
In the middle of the lobby of the Denver Field Office, a podium was set up along with several blue chairs lined up in rows and columns across from it. Two flags stood on both sides of the podium, which had many microphones with various logos attached to it. On the floor around the podium was the insignia of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Several agents in suits stood around the podium with earpieces coiled around their earlobes as they waited. Reporters began filing into the room and sitting on the chairs as an elevator door slid open across the floor.
Chambers stepped out the elevator with a manila folder in his hand. He headed straight towards the podium with Agents Mills and Kingsley on his tail. A few more agents followed from another elevator; one of them carried a bulletin board. At the center of the room, Chambers took his place behind the podium while the FBI agent following him set up the bulletin board on its legs. Mills and Kingsley stood behind Chambers as the other agents dispersed around the podium.
Tapping one of the microphones, Chambers opened up the manila folder in his hands. "Before I begin, I'd just like to state that there will be no questions afterwards. This is simply an announcement. My name is Fred Chambers and I am the Director of the FBI Field Office in New York City. Now, I know we aren't in New York, but because this pertains to an open case under my jurisdiction, I will be the one leading this investigation. Anyways, three months ago, the Drexler Museum in Manhattan was blown up by these two suspects – Jay Burchell and Tyler Fog." Chambers pointed at the two photographs stabled onto the bulletin board. "Later on, we discovered these two were aided in their act of terrorism by a third suspect known only as Will Traveler." He pointed again at the bulletin board, but this time at the sketch of Will. "For three months, our three suspects disappeared, but we now have proof suggesting they have returned."
Somewhere in Vermont
A train sped through the tracks in a lonely valley. Fields of green surrounded the train on either side with a large mountaintop leaning across the valley. Steam exited the train's pipes as it chugged through the rails. Inside one of the cars was Allison with her laptop on her lap.
Her fingers rested on the keyboard while her eyes looked up at the TV screen mountain in front of her against the wall. The man in the blue shirt beside him was staring up at the TV as well. Allison's eyes were fixated on her father who stood with his chest bent over the dark blue podium. As Allison continued listening to her father's press conference, the screen of her laptop turned black. The bright screen showing search results for Deer Harbor, Maine disappeared, replaced by a simple black monitor.
Elsewhere, Marlow stood in line at a local convenience store down the street from her apartment. Dressed in a navy blue hat, a white t-shirt, and some jeans, she tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. The man in front of her moved up as a teenage boy and his friend walked away from the counter. The woman behind the cash register rang up the man's milk carton and grabbed his bag of chips as Marlow stared up at the small TV set hanging above the register.
"Last night, a man was found murdered just outside the town of Buckley Rock, Colorado – only approximately five or so hours from here. The investigation of that homicide led to our knowledge of our suspects' return. Coupled with the recent report of a sighting of these three suspects, we are sure now, more than ever, that our suspects have returned!" Chambers declared.
The face of her nemesis glared back at her as he spat words of determination and ferocity at the microphones in front of him. Chambers didn't look much different; he sounded much more arrogant, but other than that, he still looked like the same old bastard that had betrayed Marlow. As the man in front of her walked away with his change, Marlow set her bottle of Gatorade down on the counter and pulled out her wallet. Still looking up at the screen, her eyes met with Chambers' own cold, spineless set.
Somewhere Over Nevada
"I am here to urge everyone out there with any information that could possibly help us in our search for these terrorists, to please call us immediately at our hotline. The last time these guys were on the loose, a museum blew up and several people were killed, including FBI agents and police officers," Chambers said.
Sipping on a cup of ice water, Gabriel looked up at the flat screen TV before him. A sigh escaped his lips as he set the plastic cup down and he leaned back in his chair.
Denver, CO
It had been about twenty minutes since they got away from the cops. Driving down a crowded street, the Porter kept his eyes forward. Beside him, Jay crossed his arms over his chest and looked guardedly out the window at the passing buildings and people and cars around them. In the back seat, Tyler stared at the car radio with a look of fear and jumpiness on his face. The fingers on his right hand tapped repeatedly against his thigh as he sat back in the seat. Next to him, Will listened attentively to Chambers' words as he palmed the tape recorder in his pocket.
Chambers stared directly into the one of the cameras before him. He slammed his palms down on the cold surface of the podium and glared at the red dot of the camera. Several handheld cameras carried by photographers around the lobby began flashing. Lights burst all around the podium, illuminating Chambers' grizzled face. Taking a deep breath, he finished, "I guarantee all of you: we will have these terrorists captured. They are not escaping! Not again! I assure each and every one of you: we will find and capture them… dead or alive."