TRAVELER

by illminded

A novelization of the TV series , TRAVELER follows two Yale graduates on the run from the U.S. government. Framed by their best friend Will Traveler for the bombing of an art museum, Jay Burchell and Tyler Fog are forced to prove their innocence.

11. Chapter 11: The Baron

Guest Starring

The Porter………………...…Billy Mayo

The Baron…………………...Donald Sutherland

Frank Mills…………………..Chiwetel Ejiofor

Nicole Rex………………...Rose Byrne

David Roth…………………..Peter Stormare

Carissa Mailer………………Alberta Watson

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 11: The Baron

"I assure each and every one of you: we will find and capture them… dead or alive," Chambers' voice declared through the car speakers.

At once, Jay, Tyler, and Will's eyes were lifted up from their trance and fell on the radio. As quickly as their eyes turned towards it, the Porter turned the radio off.

Calming down, Jay asked demandingly, "Where are you taking us?"

"To safety," the Porter calmly answered.

"How'd you find us in the first place, huh? How'd you know we were here?!" Tyler screamed from the back seat. He leaned forward, grabbing a hold of the sides of the Porter's seat.

The Porter slightly turned his head towards Tyler and asked, "You forget that easily?"

Confused, Tyler titled his head to the side and looked at the Porter questioningly. Jay and Will both turned to Tyler and wondered what the Porter was talking about. Suddenly, Tyler's eyes lit up and he brought the gold watch around his wrist to face.

"What?" Will wondered.

"He put a tracking device in my watch three months ago," Tyler shuddered. He looked up at the Porter and said, "You've known where we've been the whole time, haven't you?"

The three boys all turned to the Porter who refused to give up any answers. Jay glared at him angrily and said, "He asked you a question."

"We believed it was in your best interests – and ours – that you stayed put for a while," the Porter replied.

"Ours?" Jay repeated. "Who else is working with you?"

The Porter gazed over at Jay and locked eyes with him. "You'll find out soon," he said, nodding.

In his brown four-door, the Porter raced down the quiet, shadowy countryside quite a few miles away from Denver. They had escaped from the city nearly six hours ago and were still driving. By now, the sun had begun to go down over the horizon. Only a sliver of sunlight mutely illuminated the craggy valleys and sloping hills around the empty highway.

Though they'd been driving for several hours now, none of the boys were looking to sleep. All that was on their minds were questions, but the Porter was less than willing to offer answers. He stared at the road silently as he drove onwards down the empty strip. The boys had stopped trying to get him to speak hours ago. They decided to remain quiet and enjoy the peacefulness of the countryside one last time.

Beside the Porter sat Jay. He slouched in the passenger seat and stared outside the window at the scarce trees scattered about the plains. In the seat behind the Porter was Tyler who leaned against the door with his head resting on his balled left hand. A deep sigh left his lips as he stared out at the setting sun. Sitting beside him, Will listlessly sat with his arms folded across his chest. His eyes wandered over the countryside passing by them each second.

-Soleri, AZ – Nineteen Years Ago-

Howard's Creek was a small stream bordered by grassy plains on each side. The creek sat on the edge of town, away from the bustle of civilization and encompassed by the tranquility of nature. A seven-year-old Will strode along the quiet stream while his Uncle David followed him behind. David was dressed in a simple white button-down shirt and corduroys while Will wore a gray sweater and blue shorts. His hands stuffed down his pant pockets, David smiled as he walked alongside the creek with his little nephew.

"How's school been?" David asked as Will hopped over a large rock on the grass.

"Good," Will said softly.

"You understand everything your teachers teach you?"

"Most of it," Will replied as he picked up a stick beside the creek. He dipped its pointed head into the creek and watched the trickling water flow over it.

"You know if you need any help, I'm here," David said. "Your mom too. She's pretty good with math."

Will simply nodded in response as he lifted the stick up from the creek and swung it around.

David smiled as he observed Will's innocent behavior. "What about your friends? How come I never see you with anybody?"

"I don't have any," Will mumbled.

"Well, I'm your friend," David said as he started tickling Will.

Laughing as he fell on the grass, Will kicked his legs in the air as he grabbed at his uncle's large fingers. The happy, naive smile on his face could practically illuminate the dark riverside with sunlight. As Will scrambled back up to his feet, he anxiously asked, "Are you staying here?"

"No, I can't," David answered sadly. "I have to get back to Denver. I have a job there."

"Why can't you just get a job here?" Will wanted to know as he looked up at his uncle. "I like having you here. It's not so lonely when you're here." David smiled earnestly at little Will and rubbed his large hand over Will's messy brown hair. Chuckling, Will grabbed at his thick hand to get it off his head.

"It's not that easy to quit your job, Stephen. You'll learn that some day."

-----

All three boys' eyes shifted forward when they saw the faint image of a massive ranch sitting in the middle of a vast, rambling meadow. Along one side of the fenced-off ranch were stables for various kinds of animals like horses and goats. Across the way was a large garage structure that was filled with several vehicles. Behind the garage was a one-story border house built for the ranch hands. In the center of the ranch was an enormous house two stories high with a miniature garden sitting before it.

"Where are we?" Tyler asked as he leaned forward to survey the ranch.

The Porter refused to speak again; instead, he drove down a beaten path into the garage. It was unusual for a ranch to have a mechanized garage door, but it was useful nonetheless. As the sliding door pulled upwards, the Porter drove the brown four-door into the garage and parked in an empty spot beside a large gray truck.

"C'mon," the Porter said as he stepped out the car.

Jay, Tyler, and Will followed him out the car and walked behind him as he led them across the ranch towards the main house. Still searching the ranch with his eyes, Jay eagerly wanted to know, "What is this place?"

"It's a ranch," the Porter bluntly stated.

"This place yours?" Tyler asked.

The Porter shook his head and answered, "It belongs to the Baron."

"The Baron? Who's that?" Will questioned.

"You'll meet him soon," the Porter replied as he led the boys up the stone steps. He reached the front door and rang the gold doorbell beside the door.

The burgundy front door swung open several seconds later and a man in a nice black suit appeared before the Porter and the boys. Wrapped around his right ear was a white earpiece. He nodded at the Porter and eyed down the three boys before allowing them all in. The Porter led the boys through the foyer and into the living room. At each corner of the room stood a man in a black suit with a matching earpiece. The man that opened the door walked across the living room floor over to a suede, tan recliner that sat in front of a bright fire flaring in the fireplace. On the other side of the recliner stood another man in a black suit. He looked up at the Porter and the boys as they entered the living room.

The man bent over and put one hand on the top of the recliner. He leaned forward and whispered into his boss' ear, "They're here."

The Porter cross his arms over his chest and watched as the man in the recliner stood up. He was a fairly tall man with silvery white hair slicked back and a rough beard around his jaw and mouth. He was dressed in a white dress shirt under a black and gray pinstripe suit. The man's face was grizzled and boney, but his cheerful smile wiped that away. The Baron sauntered over to the Porter and shook his hand strongly.

"How are you boys?" he asked, looking at Will, Jay, and Tyler equally.

"Who are you?" Will suspiciously asked.

"You can just call me the Baron," he answered. "I don't really like my first name anyways." He stuck his hand out for a handshake to Will who looked down cautiously at it. "C'mon, you're amongst friends here. I won't bite."

Reluctantly, Will extended his hand towards the Baron and shook hands with him. Jay and Tyler did the same. As he shook hands with the Baron, Jay asked him, "What is this place?"

"It's my home!" the Baron answered jovially. The concerned look on Jay's face remained there. "Don't worry, Mr. Burchell, you and your friends are safe here."

"I thought I was safe before," Jay replied, staring at the Baron's gleaming blue eyes. He shook his head and added, "Didn't work out."

"I understand," the Baron said. He stuck his hands out to his sides and motioned at his men positioned around the living room. "But as you can see, you're in a pretty secure place now. No one can get to you here. I promise you that."

"So why are we here?" Tyler asked restlessly. "I'm pretty sure it's not so we can eat cookies and share bedtime stories, so can we please just cut to the chase?"

"You wanted answers, right?" the Baron replied. He flashed Tyler a bright smile and said, "I'm here to give them to you."

-Denver FBI Field Office-

Agent Kingsley escorted Chambers and Mills across the bullpen of the Denver Field Office. He walked through an open red door and led the two agents into the back of the room. Computers lined the entire room in rows and columns. Several agents sat at the computers frantically tapping away at their keyboards. Chambers followed Kingsley over to an FBI agent who sat at one of the computers in the back. A black headset was wrapped around his head and around the side of his face. He twisted around in his chair as he noticed Chambers, Mills, and Kingsley standing behind him.

"This is Agent Hoffman," Kingsley said, pointing to the agent at the computer. "He's found something very interesting and helpful to your case. It has to do with Traveler."

"Anything about Traveler will help," Chambers said. "What'd you find?" Chambers leaned forward and held onto the top of the chair as he stared down at Hoffman's screen.

"You know those names you gave us?" Hoffman started off. "As we expected, they're just aliases for Jay Burchell and Tyler Fog. However, as you already know, Will Traveler isn't in any of our databases. The name we got off the condo lease – Aaron Smithee – that's in our databases, though."

"What?" Chambers blurted out.

"Turns out, Aaron Smithee is an alias used by a guy named Stephen Mailer.

"What else did you get on him?" Chambers wanted to know.

"I couldn't get his file open; it's protected by a secure password," Hoffman answered. Smiling, he continued, "However, I did find out some stuff about his family. His mother, Carissa Mailer, lives in Soleri, Arizona as a waitress at a local diner. Father, Jacob Roth, has been missing; abandoned the family when Mailer was just a kid apparently."

Chambers nodded his head and turned to Mills. "Get the mother's address and get our nearest agents in the area to begin questioning her."

"There's one more thing, sir," Hoffman said, raising his index finger before his face.

Chambers turned to Hoffman and asked, "What is it?"

"I did an extensive search on Mailer's relatives. The grandfather on his father's side is Jamison Roth."

"The oil baron?!" Chambers sputtered. Hoffman nodded. Putting his hands on his waist, Chambers looked back at Mills and said, "I want a list drawn up of Roth's homes. I'm not having these guys escape to one of their daddy's safe houses again!"

-Deer Harbor, ME-

Walking down a street in the small town of Deer Harbor was Allison Chambers. Slung around her right shoulder was a gray bag carrying a notebook, pens, and her trusty laptop. She was wearing a gray and white striped blouse with a black lace tank top underneath. Along with her blue jeans, she wore a pair of white sneakers. Her eyes scanned the street she walked along; she was intent on finding something out about Will Traveler today.

Above, the moon was already up. There weren't very many people left wandering around the streets. Every person she walked passed, though, Allison was sure to ask them about Traveler. So far, no one had answered her pleas. As she walked down the street, though, it seemed as if her prayers were answered.

"Have Books, Will Travel," she read quietly as she stared up at the big sign above the store in front of her.

Looking around her, Allison hurried into the store and pushed the door open. She found hundreds of bookshelves lining every inch of the store. She walked up to the front counter and rang the small silver bell sitting there. Seconds later, a young man of average height appeared from the back of the bookstore.

"Hey, can I help you with anything?" the young man asked. He had short brown hair that was spiked up into a sort of mohawk. He wore a green t-shirt along with blue jeans.

"Hi – um – my name's Allison Chambers. I'm kind of a reporter and I'm doing a piece on the Drexler Bombing."

"What are you doin' in Deer Harbor then? We got nothin' to do with what happened down there in New York," the young man defensively replied.

"One of the suspects – Will Traveler – is supposedly from this town," Allison quickly snapped back.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know anything about that," the young man said as he turned.

"Are you sure?" Allison asked as she followed the young man into the back half of the shop. "That's a real big coincidence he seems to be named after your store."

"How do you know he's named after this store?"

"It's just an inference, but it's not very likely that some guy would just pick out a name like that out of his ass, don't you think?"

"Get outta here," the young man barked. "I don't know anything this Will Traveler guy."

"Fine," Allison replied. "Point me to someone that does then."

"I don't know anybody that knows who that is, okay, little girl?"

"For some reason, I have a hard time believing you," Allison said with a mischievous smile.

"And why is that?"

"Let's just say I can read people," Allison replied. She got up closer to the young man's face and smirked at him.

"You're not very good at it then," the young man said. "I'm not lying when I tell you I don't know a Will Traveler. Go look somewhere else."

Allison backed away from the young man and started for the door. However, she turned back around and asked, "Is this your store?"

"Yup."

"Really? I could've sworn I read this place was owned by some woman named Maya."

"Maya's dead," the young man blurted. "She's been dead for months. This is my store now."

Allison nodded her head and watched the young man disappear into the rows of bookshelves in the back. She tapped her fingers against the doorframe as she looked around the store one last time. Sighing to herself, she stepped out the bookshop and let the door slam close behind her.

-Asphodel Meadows-

The Baron's suede recliner was turned facing away from the fire now. Instead, it sat before the long, matching suede couch, upon which Jay, Tyler, and Will idly sat. Standing on the right side of the recliner was the Porter with his hands stuck in his army green jacket pockets. The men in the black suits that surrounded the room before had moved out and were now spread all throughout the compound. Only the Baron, the Porter, and the three boys remained in the cozy, warm living room.

Jay, Tyler, and Will eagerly leaned forward and listened closely to the Baron's words. They'd been itching to find these answers for so long and it appeared that they were just about to be handed to them on a silver platter. Remembering they'd need hard evidence, Will quickly grabbed his backpack and reached inside. He felt around the bottom of the black and gray backpack before finding the small, silver handheld video camera he had been so accustomed to carrying around with him. Before, it had been used to set his friends up. Now, it was being used to set them free.

"So those answers," Will started, "you mind giving 'em to us now?"

The Baron looked up from his clasped hands and sighed. Will stuck his right hand into the black strap around the side of the camera and flipped off the black, rubber top shielding the camera lens. He pressed the record button on the back of the video camera and waited for the Baron to speak. "What I'm about to tell you will shatter everything you think you know about this country," he said gravely. Staring at the boys with a questioning look, he asked, "Are you sure you want to know this?"

"We wouldn't have come this far if we didn't," Jay replied, shaking his head.

"Alright then," the Baron replied. Clearing his raspy throat, he began, "The majority of this country has no idea what it is, but I belong to a secret organization known only as the Fourth Branch. The Fourth Branch is a secret society comprised of the most powerful and influential men and women of our country. For centuries, we have been behind the scenes, controlling this country, steering it toward the right direction."

Jay's face transformed into a grim look of confusion and shock. His eyes widened as his mouth began to open wider and wider. Beside him, Tyler leaned forward, staring at the Baron with a baffled expression on his face. Will, however, appeared quite calm and stoic as he recorded the Baron's confession.

"Many people forget that when this country was founded, democracy was not a proven, accepted form of government. There had not been a successful Western democracy since Athens. And in many ways, America was viewed as a great experiment. Our founding fathers wanted independence from England, and they needed to unify a fledgling country populated by a multinational constituency to win the war. What better way to rally a disparate army against the oppressors than to promise the common man a voice in the new government? This was the great promise of early American democracy," the Baron recited with much confidence and poise. Still staring right into Will's camera, he continued, "However, our founding fathers knew that if this kind of democracy were to work, it would need to have safeguards put into place. That is where the Fourth Branch comes in. The Fourth Branch is a group seated above the three branches – Executive, Legislative, and Judicial – whose purpose it is to implement its own set of checks and balances on the government to guide the true course of our country."

As the Baron spoke, the three boys' face twisted and contorted into strange expressions. Jay's jaw was nearly on the floor as he stared at the Baron with frightful eyes. In between Jay and Will, Tyler sat with a frightened and confused look on his face. It seemed like so much to take in at the time. His eyes continuously blinked as he stared at the Baron's straight, skeletal face. Holding onto the video camera tightly, Will's mouth gaped open and his face changed into a dismal, worried sight. He could feel his body shaking, but he did his best to make himself appear strong and steadfast in front of Tyler and Jay.

"What more can you tell us?" Jay asked, eager to know more.

"That's all I know," the Baron replied, shaking his head. "I'm sorry."

"There's no way that's it!" Tyler interjected.

"I'm sorry, but that's all I can say," the Baron said.

"It's okay," Will interceded. He closed the screen protruding from the side of his video camera and turned the device off. "We'll make due with what we have. It's not enough to expose the Fourth Branch, but it's enough to grab attention. And besides, it's one more step towards the finish line and I'm fine with that."

"Listen," the Baron said, "this isn't the end of your journey."

Will nodded. "I didn't expect this to be a jog down the street."

The Baron nodded back and stood up from the recliner. "You boys have a long, long road ahead of you. Come. Dinner should be ready by now." The Baron started for the door with the three boys following after him. Behind Tyler came the Porter, his hands still in his pockets.

In the dining room of the ranch house, the Baron sat at the head of the table with the boys taking separate seats around the long, rectangular, wooden table. The Porter sat down beside the Baron and waited patiently for the food to be served. The dining room was a fairly spacious room with a large table in the center and an extravagant chandelier hanging above it. There was nothing decorating the room save for a painting of the Baron at one end of the room. At the other end of the dining room entered the food servers.

Three young men walked into the room carrying plates of food, which they set all around the table. A fourth young man entered the room with a few glass cups and a pitcher of water. He placed a cup in front of each person at the table and poured all of them ice water.

The Baron placed a napkin on his lap and smiled widely as he looked at the food set out before him and his guests. He waved at the food and said, "C'mon. Eat up!"

Though Tyler was a lot more courteous than he looked, he quickly reached for the pan-seared scallops on the plate nearest to him. The tiny circular bivalve was wrapped in crispy bacon. Tyler stuffed his mouth with two of them as he passed the plate over to Jay. The Baron smiled at the boys as he watched them eat. The Porter, on the other hand, had a rather blank expression on his face as he cut at the steak on his plate. As a plate of medium-rare-grilled steaks reached him, Will grabbed a piece with his fork and passed it on. It had been quite a long time since he had a dinner like this. Although he'd had a few big dinners with Jay and Tyler back at New Haven, none of them compared to something like this. His eyes gazed away at the cornucopia of food as his mind drifted back in time.

-Soleri, AZ – Eighteen Years Ago-

At eight-years-old, Will was already rather smart. He sat in his tiny bedroom at his family's trailer home under a dim, yellow light. The pencil in his hand moved in strange directions as he finished his homework for school. He placed the last period at the end of his sentence and closed up the spiral notebook he wrote in. Just as he shoved the notebook and pencil to the corner of his tiny desk, he heard a loud knock at the trailer door. Gleefully, his eyes widened and he hurried out to the living room.

Will grabbed at the doorknob and flung the door open. Standing behind the door was his Uncle David who hid his face behind a box wrapped in red and blue gift wrap. "Uncle David!" Will joyfully shouted.

David brought the box away from his face and smiled widely at his nephew who jumped into his embrace. He hugged Will back and stepped into the trailer. He was wearing a light blue dress shirt and a pair of black slacks with a heavy, black jacket over it. As he closed the door behind him, he rubbed his monstrous hand against Will's hair.

"Jeez you got tall," he teased. "How long's it been? Five years?"

"It's only been a year, Uncle David!" Will laughed as he held onto his uncle's hand.

"Guess what I got ya'?" David asked as he showed Will the present in his other hand.

"What?! What?!" Will repeated, jumping up and down excitedly.

"I dunno," David teased. "Guess!"

"Uh… a toy?"

"Of course it's a toy. Guess what kind."

"Um… a robot?"

"Nope."

"A car?"

"Nope."

As Will kept guessing, his mother appeared from the kitchen around the corner. She threw her arms up in the air and smiled over at Will and David. She shuffled over to David and gave him a hug and a kiss. "You could've at least called, y'know!" she told David.

"I wanted to surprise you guys," David said as he let go of Carissa. "How are you?"

"Pretty good."

"Is my brother still sending checks?"

"Yup," Carissa answered, nodding.

"Good. Good," David replied. He smelled the odor of food coming from the kitchen. "Dinner smells great!"

"You came just in time!" Carissa said with a cheerful smile. "I'm just finishing up!"

"Awesome," David cheered.

"Mommy, look what Uncle David got me!" Will shouted up at his mother, showing her the box David brought with him.

"Oh, isn't that nice! Did you thank him?" Carissa asked.

Will quickly turned to David and happily yelled, "Thank you, Uncle David!"

"No problem, little buddy," David replied.

"C'mon, take a seat. The food's almost ready," Carissa told David, waving at the small dining table. She turned to Will as she walked away and said, "Stephen, put the gift down and help Mommy set the table please."

"Okay!" Will said as he set the box down on the couch. He ran after his mother and grabbed plates and forks from the kitchen cabinets.

Meanwhile, David took a seat at the small dining table in the cramped living room. There was a small TV, a brown couch, a wooden coffee table, a white drawer with a lamp and picture frames, and several piles of clothes scattered across the carpet. David sat down at the square dining table and tapped his thick fingers against the white tabletop. Seconds later, Will and his mother came back from the kitchen. Will set the table while Carissa put a plate of spaghetti in the center of the table along with some fresh baked bread. As Will took a seat, Carissa went back into the kitchen and grabbed a plate of breaded chicken breasts, which she set on the table beside the spaghetti.

Carissa sat down beside Will and smiled. Sighing, she motioned at the food and said, "Okay! Let's eat!"

-----

"Will," someone said. Will's eyes stared straight at the center of the table. The voice called again, "Will!"

Snapped out of his trance, Will looked up at Jay. Jay stared at him with a quizzical look on his face. Will blinked twice then asked, "Yeah?"

"You mind passing the bread?"

"Yeah, sorry," Will replied as he picked up the plate of rolls and handed it across to Jay.

-Denver, CO-

A polished, black Ford Crown Vic with pitch black windows and glistening, chrome wheels sat in the middle of an alley behind the FBI Field Office in Denver. The car's engine was still running and smoke was drifting out the exhaust tip. Walking from around the corner, Agent Chambers headed towards the Crown Vic. He folded the left side of his black overcoat over the right side as he reached for the handle of the passenger side door. Stepping inside the car, Chambers looked over at the driver's seat where Gabriel Fog awaited.

"Let's hurry this up," Chambers grunted as he closed the door behind him.

"I agree," Gabriel sighed. "What do you have?"

"Apparently, Traveler's real name is Stephen Mailer. Guy's up top never revealed that," Chambers informed Gabriel. Gabriel nodded. "Anyways, Traveler's the son of an oil baron who's got real estate all over this country. His nearest home is actually here in Colorado."

"Where's it at?" Gabriel eagerly wanted to know.

"Asphodel Meadows."

"Asphodel Meadows?" Gabriel repeated.

"It's a place a few hours from here. Approximately six," Chambers answered.

"You're sure they're there?"

"That's where I'd be if I were them," Chambers replied. He reached into the inside of his overcoat and pulled out a piece of printer paper. "I'll make sure my guys stay off of 'em. You just make sure you get them."

Gabriel nodded and said, "Alright. I'll get 'em."

"Okay." Chambers reached for the passenger side door and opened it. He started to climb out the Crown Vic; his right leg was already out the door, but he stopped. Turning back to Gabriel, he warned, "Make sure you do your job. Don't end up like your father."

Gabriel's eyes lifted up and he shot a glare at Chambers. Chambers smugly smiled and nodded at him as he stepped out the car and slammed the door behind him. Through his rearview mirror, Gabriel could see Chambers trotting through the alley and around the corner back into the Field Office. Gabriel sighed once to himself and shifted the car back to Drive before setting off down the other end of the alley.

-Deer Harbor, ME-

Allison sat at a table inside a café down the street from the bookstore. Flipped open in front of her was her laptop while in her hand was a paper cup filled with coffee. Though it was quite late at night, there were still a few people inside the café other than the two cashiers and the three baristas behind the counter. An old, bald man entered the café with his gray-haired wife and walked up to the front counter, where one of the cashiers cheerfully greeted them. Seated along the front of the café at the tall stools was a group of teenagers nursing cups of coffee in their hands. At the lone, circular table in the corner across the room sat a middle-aged couple, sitting closely together with their hands cupped around one another.

Allison took a sip of her coffee as she clicked something on her laptop. As she waited for the screen to load, her eyes drifted up to the TV bolted to the wall and hanging behind the cash register. The news was still reporting about the recent return of Burchell, Fog, and Traveler. The three boys' mug shots were plastered up on the screen.

Allison pulled her eyes away from them as she read an article on Maya on her laptop. The article was fairly short; nothing great and not much information. It was just a report that she was found dead in her home with several of her valuables missing. The journalist deemed the incident a robbery-homicide. Allison finished reading the short article and closed her laptop.

Quietly thinking, she leaned against her left fist and stared out the window. The old couple took a seat at the table behind Maya, causing her to jump at the sound of a chair screeching against the linoleum. She turned around to face the old man and his wife and smiled. She leaned in towards them and asked, "Excuse me, do you guys mind if I ask you a question?"

"Oh, no, go ahead," the old woman said.

"Thank you," Allison cheerfully replied. "Um… you know that old bookstore down the street?"

"Yes."

"Did you know the person that owned it – Maya?" Allison asked.

The old man nodded and answered, "Yes, we knew her. Everyone in this town pretty much knows everyone else."

"Really?" Allison replied. "Can you tell me anything about her? Like who'd she hang out with, what else did she do, anything."

"These last few years, we didn't see her around town as much. After the incident with her brother, she became a bit reclusive; started hanging out with odd-looking out-of-towners."

"Were they – um – bad people?"

"Not really sure," the old woman said as she sipped her coffee. "They rarely came around town. The only one I remember seeing quite a few times was a young man probably the same age as you."

"What did he look like?"

"Sorta short, brown hair, blue eyes," the old woman answered.

"He didn't look like a bad kid, though," the old man chimed in. "Some of the guys she brought around here – they looked tough, mean, kinda out-of-touch, but not this one. He-He was different."

"How so?" Allison asked, intrigued.

"I remember he was quiet and shy," the old woman said, "but he was a nice kid. Polite, friendly; he looked like he really cared about Maya."

"What happened to him?"

The old man shrugged, as did his wife. The old man replied, "One day, he just stopped showing up. He always used to be around the bookshop with Maya, but he just suddenly disappeared."

"How long ago was that?"

"Oh my, probably two years ago," the old man answered. "It was quite a while ago."

"What about Maya? What happened to her?" Allison asked.

The old woman shook her head and said, "She was killed. Police say she was shot during a robbery."

"It was odd," the old man added. "It all happened so sudden. I still remember that week."

"That week?"

"Oh, she died the week those boys bombed the Drexler Museum down in New York. I guess someone around here was connected to them," the old man said. "Lots of cops and FBI agents running around looking for answers."

Allison nodded and said, "So I heard." She sighed and finished the rest of her coffee. Her eyes stared back out the window and she asked, "What about the guy that runs her bookshop now? Who's he?"

"We don't really know him," the old man answered. "He kind of just showed up one day."

"So he's not family or anything?"

"No, no," the old woman said. "We were pretty close to Maya's parents. Her mother was a single child and her dad was adopted. Maya and her brother were all that were left."

"I see," Allison nodded. "Do you know where Maya used to live?"

"Her house is by the edge of town near the marina. You want the address?" the old man asked.

"Yes, please," Allison vigorously nodded. The old man scribbled the address down on a napkin and handed it to Allison. She smiled at the old couple and said, "Thank you for your time. I really appreciate it."

Allison started to get up and leave when the old man stopped her. He called out to her as she tossed her empty cup into the trash. "You know, we don't really get too many visitors around here. There a reason you're so interested in Maya?"

"I'm an old friend of hers," Allison lied. "I've been away in Europe. I just came back and heard she died. I wanted to come pay my respects."

"She lived here her whole life. Probably left once or twice for vacation," the old man said. He furrowed his brow in concentration on Allison's face. "You don't look very familiar."

Allison flashed the old man a fake smile and replied, "We met over the computer when we were still in high school." Before the old man could ask another question, Allison hurried out the coffee shop. The old man and woman watched her suspiciously as she exited the café and crossed the street nervously.

-Asphodel Meadows-

Jay walked down an empty hallway inside the Baron's luxurious home. The mahogany-colored hall was adorned with picture frames and paintings hanging from the wall. There was also a vase filled with purple and red flowers seated atop an antique drawer. Jay walked passed the vase and looked over at the photograph hanging next to it.

Jay stopped as he observed the picture before him. It was of a tall, lanky man with brown hair and two boys standing at his sides. One of the boys was a bit taller than the other, but not by much. The man's brown hair was slicked back and he wore a black sweater while both his boys wore matching blue sweatshirts and slacks. They all had sunny smiles on their faces.

"My two sons," the Baron said from behind as he walked over to Jay. Surprised, Jay snapped his head to the left and wryly smiled at the Baron. The Baron stared at the picture alongside Jay and shook his head. "It's been so long since I've seen either of them."

"What are their names?" Jay asked.

"David and Jacob," the Baron answered. "They're all grown up now. They don't look anything like in this picture." Jay smiled a little and nodded his head. The Baron turned to him and asked, "Do you plan on having any kids of your own?"

Jay looked up at the Baron with a blank stare then looked away, blinking his eyes. He hung his head low as he stared at the base of the vase. Clearing his throat, he finally answered, "Um… yeah, maybe. Depends."

"On what?"

"Whether or not we can come out of this clean," Jay said gravely.

The Baron nodded his head and put a hand on Jay's shoulder. "Have faith, son, you'll find her."

Jay's head quickly snapped towards the Baron; he didn't remember telling him about Kim. "You know about Kim?" he asked excitedly.

The Baron shook his head and let go of Jay's shoulders. He started to turn around and said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have."

"No, wait! If you know something about Kim you better tell me right now!" Jay demanded.

"I don't know anything about your girlfriend, Mr. Burchell," the Baron hurriedly replied.

"Yes, you do! I know you do!" Jay shouted. He grabbed the Baron by the shoulder and turned him around. "Please, you have to tell me anything you know! If she's in trouble, I need to find her. This is all my fault. She's not-she can't be punished for what I've done!"

"Your priority is to expose and crush the Fourth Branch," the Baron said sternly. "I suggest you stick to one priority at a time, Mr. Burchell."

Jay's mouth opened, but nothing came out. The Baron nodded to him and walked away, disappearing down the hallway. Standing still, Jay stared down the desolate hallway as his heart raced.

Upstairs, Tyler sat on the edge of his bed with the remote for the TV in his hand. He had already changed his clothes. He now wore a brown t-shirt with checkered black and white pants. His blonde hair wasn't gelled anymore either. His eyes were fixated on the glowing TV screen as he changed channels every few seconds. Finally, his finger stopped moving and he set the remote by his side.

The TV screen showed a shot of the Fog Financial building in New York City. A Korean newscaster was standing in front of it with a man in a navy blue suit with a light blue dress shirt underneath. The newscaster smiled at the screen and lifted the microphone to her lips.

"What was once a place of glory has now become a building full of scandals and lies," the newscaster stated. "I'm standing here in front of the Fog Financial building in upper Manhattan with Fog Financial's acting Chairman of the Board, William Caruthers." She turned to the man and asked, "How are you today, William?"

Caruthers was a skinny man of average height who had dark brown hair that was nicely combed back. He had on a pair of wire-framed glasses sitting on his pointy nose. He leaned into the microphone and said with a smile, "I'm doing just fine, Kelly. How are you?"

"I'm doing great, Mr. Caruthers, but it seems Fog Financial isn't doing so well ever since its founder, Carlton Fog, was arrested on federal criminal charges three months ago. He's currently at the U.S. Medical Center of Federal Criminals just outside of New York while his appeals are currently being exhausted in court. Do you have any updates on Mr. Fog that you can give us today, Mr. Caruthers?"

"Um… all I'm allowed to say right now is that Carlton is doing fine and we hope to see him back on his feet soon."

"So I take it you believe he's innocent."

"Of course!" Caruthers immediately answered. "No doubt in my mind that Mr. Fog would have anything to do with terrorists."

"You failed to mention that one of those terrorists is his own son, Tyler Fog, who disappeared three months ago also," Kelly replied.

Tyler bit on the fingernails on his right hand as he scoffed at the interview. Mr. Caruthers shrugged his shoulders at the newscaster and said, "I assure you, Ms. Kim, Carlton Fog would never condone any act of malice toward this great country, nevertheless an act as heinous as the bombing of one of our country's most treasured museums. Undoubtedly, Mr. Fog loves his son with all his heart, but – "

Tyler angrily turned the TV off and shook his head. He tossed the remote control back onto the bed as he stood up and walked over to the window beside his bed. He stared outside at the black sky and looked below at the men in black guarding the Baron's property. They all held guns and wore earpieces as they strode around the estate; it reminded Tyler of his own father's place in Elysium. Sighing, Tyler walked away from the window and plopped himself down on the bed. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared up at the white ceiling and drifted away.

Somewhere downstairs, Will wandered into a small room in a desolate corner of the ranch house. He reached inside the room and felt around the pitch black wall for a light switch. Once he found it, he flicked it on and the luminescent white lights burst to life a second later. The room was a private gym with items ranging from dumbbells to weight-lifting machines to a red punching bag.

Will strolled over to the heavy, red punching bag hanging in the back of the room and grabbed it by the sides. It had been a while since he touched a punching bag. This one was a lot thicker than the one Will had become accustomed to using. He balled his right hand into a fist as his mind faded back to his younger days.

-Soleri, AZ – Fifteen Years Ago-

"So you're really living here now?" Will asked his uncle as he followed him up to the front porch of a two-story house. Will was about twelve-years-old, but he was rather short. He was probably four-feet-tall, maybe even less. His shaggy brown hair covered his forehead, but his black eye was still quite visible. There was also a small cut near the left side of his cheek. It didn't look like it bothered him, though, as he brightly smiled at his uncle.

David nodded his head and grinned at Will. He pulled out a key and unlocked the front door. "Yup, I'm already all moved in too."

"Cool!" Will shouted as David opened the door. He followed David into the foyer where he stripped off his dirty white shoes. "What made you change your mind?"

"I just thought I'd like to be closer to family," David said, smiling. "C'mon, I wanna show you something."

"What is it?!" Will anxiously wanted to know.

"You'll see," David teased as he grabbed Will by the wrist and dragged him down a small flight of stairs into the basement.

The basement of his house was still fairly empty. Aside from a few cardboard boxes piled high in one corner there was only one other thing in the basement. It was a red punching bag dangling from a rusty, silver chair. David turned to Will and smiled as he led him over to the punching bag. He grabbed the top of the punching bag and looked down at his nephew.

"You know what this is?" he asked.

"A punching bag," Will said nonchalantly.

David chuckled and said, "Yup. Exactly."

"Why do you have one?" Will asked. "Mom says fighting's bad."

"Is that why you have that black eye?" David asked, pointing at Will's right eye.

Will hurriedly shook his head and replied, "No, I just… don't know how to fight. Everyone else is bigger than me."

"Size doesn't matter, Stephen," David said, shaking his head. He crouched down so he'd be eye-to-eye with Will. "All that matters is skill and courage. You gotta know how to fight and you gotta be brave enough to be aggressive. You're not gonna win just by tossing a few punches around."

"But that's how Marty beat me," Will replied.

David chuckled and rubbed Will's hair. "Marty's an idiot then." Will started laughing as David continued, "Did you know your Uncle David knows Krav Maga?"

"Huh?"

"I thought so," David replied, chuckling. "Krav Maga is an Israeli fighting system."

"Oh, like Tae Kwon Do?" Will asked.

"No, nothing like Tae Kwon Do!" David said enthusiastically. "That stuff you see in Kung Fu movies and crap isn't real. It's all for show! Krav Maga teaches you how truly fight and defend yourself. Do you know what the point of fighting is?"

"To win?"

"No, to survive," David said. "Fighting's all about survival. In real life, you don't fight to uphold your honor or to-to win a belt or something like that! You fight to survive! For example, say a guy comes at you with a gun – "

"I'm twelve-years-old," Will interrupted.

"Alright. Say a guy comes at your mother with a gun. What'll you do?"

"Call 911."

David laughed and said, "By the time the cops get there the guy would've shot your mother. Now you don't want that right?" Will nodded. "That means you have to know how to defend yourself. You need to learn how to survive."

"I'm just a kid, Uncle David."

"Yeah, but so are those bullies at your school," David replied. "Don't you wanna be able to defend yourself next time they pick on you?" Will looked at his uncle with somber eyes and nodded. "Alright. Now, you can't your mom this, okay? She'll kill me if she ever found out I was teaching you how to fight."

Will chuckled and nodded his head. "I won't tell Mom. I promise!"

"Okay, kido, I believe ya'!" David stuck both hands out in front of Will and said, "Before I show you anything, show me how you punch."

Will balled up both his fists and reeled his right arm back. He threw a punch straight at David's left palm. He threw another punch with his other fist then another then another.

David nodded his head and said, "You're punching all wrong."

"But that's how the other boys at school punch," Will muttered.

"Well, they're idiots then like that Marty kid or whatever his name is," David replied. "If you wanna get the most strength out of a punch, you gotta put all your weight into it. Watch me." David balled up his right hand into a fist and drew it back. Instead of throwing it straight forward, he twisted his hips around then threw the punch with his upper body moving along with the punch. "It might not look very different, but you'll be able to feel the difference. And so will whoever you're punching. Now, you try it."

"Okay," Will replied as he imitated David's stance. He replicated David's punch and looked at his uncle.

"Good! Good! Did you feel a difference?"

"No," Will mumbled.

"Do it again." Will threw another punch. "One more." Again, Will imitated David's punch. David nodded and smiled as he shouted, "Again!"

-----

Will grabbed the sides of the punching bag again as it swayed frontward and backwards from his punches. After he had the punching bag stabilized, he looked around the room once more then headed out. He flipped the light switch off and walked down the empty hallway.

-New York FBI Field Office-

Agent Rex jolted up in her seat as she felt the phone in her pocket vibrate. It had been fairly quiet at the Field Office; there were no new leads and nothing else to work on. She had nearly fallen asleep at her desk. She pulled the thin Blackberry out of her pant pocket and pressed the answer button.

"Special Agent Rex," she answered.

"I have something for you," a woman cryptically said.

"Who is this?" Rex asked with a quizzical expression on her face.

"You don't need to know," the woman answered. "I have something you need. Information, about the Drexler Bombing suspects."

Immediately, Rex sat up and felt around her desk for a pen and paper. She dragged over her notepad from the edge of her desk and pulled a blue pen out of the pen holder beside her computer. "Okay. Okay," she repeated. "What do you have?"

"Not over the phone. Come meet me."

"Where?"

There was a pause for a moment. A second later, the woman answered, "Lower Manhattan. Canal Street. By the oriental dentist office. Come alone or you won't see me."

"Alright, but – " The phone line died before Rex could reply. Sighing, she flipped her cellphone closed and set it on the desk.

-Denver FBI Field Office-

Chambers stood front and center at the bullpen. His hands held onto his waist as he stared up at the series of monitors in front of him. At his side stood Agent Mills; he was leaning back against the edge of another agent's desk with his arms folded across his chest. He impatiently looked up at the monitors as they flashed to life.

Each of the five monitors depicted a group of SWAT members crowded inside what appeared to be the back of a van. They were all equipped with rifles and handguns and fitted with bulletproof vests and heavy-duty helmets. The camera was it night-vision mode as evidenced by the noisy green tint of the screen. On the lower left-hand corner of each screen were: New York, Malibu, Houston, Minn., and Denver.

"This is New York SWAT, we're in position," the leader of one SWAT said.

"Roger that," Chambers replied. "New York SWAT stand by and await orders."

"We've got Minnesota."

"This is Houston. We're in position and online, sir," another SWAT leader relayed.

"Alright. Malibu, Denver, what's going on?" Chambers asked.

"We've got Malibu scouted, sir. No activity reported," the fourth SWAT leader answered.

"Denver?" Chambers repeated.

"Denver SWAT is in position. We're ready to act on your orders, SAC Chambers."

Nodding assuredly to himself, Chambers ordered, "All units stand by and wait for my command." All the leaders of the SWATs nodded and awaited Chambers' further instructions. Crossing his arms over his chest, Chambers turned to Mills and asked, "What do you think?"

"New York's too far away. Minnesota, Malibu, and Houston are possible if they managed to get on a private jet or something," Mills accounted. "I think we should send in Denver."

Chambers nodded and replied, "I agree." Turning back to the monitors, he said, "Denver SWAT, you're on."

"Roger Denver, we're moving in," the SWAT leader replied.

-----

The ranch house in Denver was a massive, grandiose mansion surrounded by stables and a garden on the side. The SWAT van was parked a few yards away from the mansion and hidden from sight. The back of the van flew open as men in black clothing filed out onto the gravel road outside. The clamor of heavy combat boots filled the open air. Fortunately, the guards pacing around the ranch house were still enough not to hear the sound.

The leader of the SWAT team scurried across the dirt ground as he shuffled to the boundary separating the oil baron's ranch house from the rest of the meadow. The man crouched down and raised his right fist in front of his men. All of the SWAT members stopped in their tracks and waited for their leader's orders. Scouting the area, the SWAT team leader could count around seven guards watching the house. There could have been more, but with the black sky hanging over them, the leader couldn't tell.

Pulling out a pair of binoculars, the leader put them up to his eyes and stared through one of the windows. The shadow of a man brushed passed the curtains of the window and disappeared down the other end of the window frame.

"We have movement," the SWAT team leader noted into his mouthpiece. Whispering, he continued, "There are approximately seven guards watching the house and one person inside. What should we do?"

"Secure the house," Chambers instructed. "Do whatever you have to do."

-Lower Manhattan-

Nicole Rex parked her car outside of a dentist office on the corner of Canal Street. Unlocking the doors, she pushed the driver side door open and stepped onto the busy street. Several cars passed by her as she walked around the black sedan and onto the sidewalk. Looking around, she searched for whoever could have made the call. All she knew about the person was that it was a woman.

There was a young woman in her mid-twenties wearing a white baseball cap and gray sweater standing on the other corner. She appeared too young to be the woman on the phone though. Rex walked closer to the dentist office and stood there with her hands in her pockets. The cool wind dragged her hair across her face. She grabbed at them with her slender fingers in an attempt to brush them aside from her face.

Suddenly, Rex felt something cold and hard touching the base of her spine. She tried to turn around, but the object pushed harder against her spine.

"Don't look back," the woman from the phone said.

Rex looked at her from the side of her eyes; she couldn't tell who it was, though. Nodding, she replied, "Alright, I got it. You said you had information for me, right?"

"Start walking," the woman instructed. Wearing a dark blue baseball cap and a black jacket with the hood over her head, Jan Marlow led Rex up the street. She made sure to stay close to Rex so no one would notice the small gun in her hand, which she half covered with the long sleeves of her jacket.

"Where are we going?" Rex asked.

"Just keep walking," Marlow told her. She looked around once then said, "Those boys are innocent – the ones you and everybody else in this country is after. They're innocent."

"How do you know that?" Rex wanted to know.

"Just trust me."

"It's kinda hard to trust someone who has a gun to my back," Rex said in a sarcastic tone.

"I don't have proof, but I know they're innocent. Chambers is in on it."

"In on what?!"

"There's a conspiracy surrounding this. I don't know what it's purpose is, but it has something to do with the Drexler Bombing and possibly all the other bombings that have occurred since."

"What makes you say this?"

"You ever heard of Guillermo Borjes and Jan Marlow?" Marlow asked.

"Yeah, they were the agents on the Drexler case with Chambers," Rex answered. "Borjes was killed in action and Marlow was dirty."

"Borjes was killed in action, but Marlow wasn't dirty," Marlow told her. "It was Chambers."

"That's crazy," Rex retorted. "We have proof that Marlow was in collusion with the suspects."

"What proof? Chambers' gunshot wound? That's not proof; he was shot while trying to kill Marlow."

"There's recordings," Rex added. "Recordings involving Marlow and a man named Joseph. I've heard them myself."

"They're fabricated," Marlow said.

"How would you know that?"

"I know," Marlow replied. "Turn the corner."

Rex turned left down a street and asked Marlow, "Is this all you brought me here for? To tell me lies?"

"No, I brought you here to give you information."

"How do I know the information you've got is clean?"

"You don't. You just have to trust it," Marlow replied. "In my search, I found out something that could connect Chambers to this. It's gonna take some digging, but I'm sure you can handle it, right, Nicole?"

Rex's brow furrowed and she asked, "What is it?"

"Do a cross-reference check on Fred Chambers and Jack Freed."

"The former Deputy Director of Homeland?"

"Exactly."

"What's he got to do with this?" Rex wondered.

"You'll find out. The cross-reference will pull up two results – one having to do with the FBI and another involving Chambers' unit in Palestine from the late 90's and early 2000's. The latter is the one you want. Follow the trail; it'll lead you to the truth."

"Can I ask you what this has to do with the Drexler Bombing?"

"Like I said, it'll lead you to the truth," Marlow said.

Marlow started to pull the gun off of Rex, but Rex suddenly spun around. She threw an elbow at Marlow's face, but Marlow ducked and turned. She started up the street as Rex pulled her gun out its holster and fired at her. She missed both shots and chased after Marlow. Grabbing her walkie-talkie with the other hand, she shouted, "This is Special Agent Rex! I am in pursuit of a federal suspect! I need back-up! Repeat: I need back-up! I'm on Canal Street near Chinatown!"

-Deer Harbor, ME-

Looking down at the napkin in her hand, Allison read off the address written on it. She looked up at the house before her and nodded to herself. Maya's two-story home looked exactly as she left it three months ago. Allison stepped onto the cobblestone path, passed the driveway, and up to the front porch. She grabbed the doorknob and turned it, hoping it had been left unlocked. When she realized it was still locked, she reached into the backpack slung around her shoulder and searched for a hairpin. Finding one, she grabbed the doorknob with one hand while sticking the hairpin into the keyhole with the other. She jiggled the doorknob around a bit with the hairpin and listened for a soft clicking sound. She heard it and smiled. The door had opened.

Before entering the house, Allison looked around. Scanning the area around Maya's property, she hoped no one was watching. She slowly closed the door behind her as she entered the foyer. Quietly, she crept towards the living room and looked inside. There was no one there. All Maya's things were still intact, though. Walking through the living room, Allison saw a picture frame atop the TV set. Inside the frame was a photograph of Maya and a brown-haired man. Allison couldn't see the young man's face as he had turned to the right and attempted to cover his face. Under his big palm, though, Allison could see a big, toothy grin.

Allison set the picture frame back on the TV set and wandered around the house a bit more. She found the door leading down into the basement and opened it. It was about ten o'clock at night now so Allison couldn't see a thing down the flight of stairs. Reaching to the side of the room, Allison tried to turn the light on. However, the light switch wasn't working. Opening her backpack, she looked to see if she had packed a flashlight. She hadn't. Sighing impatiently, she went into the kitchen and turned the light on. She opened one of the drawers near the counter and looked inside for a flashlight. In the back of the tiny drawer was a small, blue flashlight. Allison pushed the switch up to see if it worked.

Smiling to herself, Allison turned the flashlight back off and headed back into the basement. At the top of the staircase, she turned the flashlight on again and started down the stairs. The creaking of the wooden steps felt eerie considering the dark, creepy atmosphere of the abandoned house. Allison remained steadfast and determined, though, as she reached the bottom of the stairs and looked around with the flashlight. She flashed the light upon the far corner of the basement and found a single filing cabinet sitting there.

There were four rows of file folders in the cabinet. Allison opened the top one and drew out a large manila folder. Inside was the profile of a man named John Arturo. The profile looked similar to the one Allison's own father had of Will Traveler. Allison closed the folder, put it back inside, and pulled out another one. The second folder she grabbed belonged to a younger-looking man named Keith Blanchard. In the back of the folder, there were several copies of a passport. Allison's eyes squinted as she attempted to read the information on the Russian passport.

"What is this place?" Allison asked herself as she shuffled through the second row of file folders.

-Lower Manhattan-

Marlow raced up the street, wending passed crowds of pedestrians walking across the crosswalk. Several of them shouted at her as she shoved them aside. Marlow couldn't believe that only three months ago she was the one doing the chasing. Her breath became heavier as she sped up the street. About five yards behind her was Agent Rex, her 10 mm enclosed in her hands.

Marlow didn't dare look back as she rushed across the street. A red car driving by came to a skidding halt as Marlow hurried passed it. Another car coming from the other lane stopped right before it hit Marlow. The man driving it stuck his head out and shouted at her as she ran onto the sidewalk and raced up the street. The car was about to start down the street again when Rex ran through. She aimed her gun at Marlow's back, but there were too many people around here. Cursing under her breath, Rex lowered her weapon and continued pursuit.

As she ran up the street, Marlow could heard the sound of police sirens wailing a few blocks away. Speeding up, she hurried through the crosswalk and reached the entrance of a subway station. Looking across the street, she saw Rex getting closer and closer. Marlow's heartbeat elevated as she quickly ran down the concrete steps. Above, Rex reached the top of the stairwell and ran after Marlow.

At the bottom of the staircase, Rex's eyes glanced all around the room in search of Marlow. Calmly and cautiously, Rex craned her neck to look above the heads of people walking passed her. She softly pushed aside several people as she hopped over the guard railing. A guard walked over to her to stop her, but she flashed him her badge.

"I'm sorry, Agent Rex," the guard said.

"It's alright," Rex replied. "Help me look for a woman in a black sweater and blue hat."

"What is she? White? Black? Hispanic?"

"Black," Rex replied. The guard nodded and started searching as Rex walked across the platform in search of Marlow.

In a corner of the subway station sat a homeless man in a dark brown overcoat. He wore a green beanie and had on a pair of gloves. He held a bottle of beer as he sat on stacks of old, crumpled newspapers. Sitting beside him, her knees raised up, was Marlow. She had taken her hood off and wore the cap with the bill lowered over her eyes. She looked across the platform at Agent Rex who had just passed by her. Taking off her black sweater, Marlow handed it to the bum beside her.

"Here you go. A new coat," Marlow said as she dropped the hoodie beside the homeless man. Turning back once more to look at Rex, Marlow hurried up the stairs.

-Denver FBI Field Office-

"Damn it!" Chambers screeched as the last SWAT team came up with nothing. Putting his hands to his sides, he shouted, "That's five houses! Where the hell did they go?!"

Mills shook his head quietly and licked his lower lip. "Where could they have gone? They know better than to go back to one of Fog's houses and Burchell's home is a definite no. We must've missed something." He turned to one of the agents and said, "You sure you got all of Roth's known homes?"

"I'm sure," the agent replied. He turned to Chambers who looked back at him knowingly.

"Son of a bitch!" Mills angrily shouted as he kicked a chair down. He turned to Chambers and asked, "What now?"

"Find Jamison Roth. I wanna question him," Chambers answered.

Mills nodded and looked at another agent. "You heard him. Find Roth and get him over here ASAP!"

-Deer Harbor, ME-

There were dozens of folders inside the cabinets of different men and women. Many of them had fake passports while others had double identities.

Allison crouched down and opened the bottom drawer. There was only one folder inside. She reached in and pulled it out. The folder was quite thick. Opening it, she was met by the eyes of Will Traveler. The first page of papers was identical to the profile Allison had found in her father's office. Sifting through the other pages, she found a similar profile, except this one belonged to Daniel Taft. The picture was still of Will Traveler, though.

Closing the folder, Allison opened her backpack and stuffed the folder inside. She zipped the backpack up and slung it around her shoulder. Hurriedly, she turned towards the stairs.

"What do you think you're doing?" someone suddenly asked.

Allison jumped and pointed the flashlight at the direction of the voice. The man from the bookstore was standing there at the bottom of the staircase. He covered his eyes with his hand as Allison waved the flashlight at him.

"Turn that off! Turn that off!" the young man urged.

"What are you doing here?" Allison demanded to know. "You following me?!"

"What am I doing here? I could ask the same to you! You broke in here!" the young man shouted at her. Allison moved the flashlight from the young man's face and looked up at him with worried eyes. "What are you doing in here anyways?"

"N-Nothing," Allison stuttered. "I was hoping a relative was here that I could talk to."

"Well, here I am!" the young man said, sticking his arms out to his sides.

"You? You're a relative of Maya's?" Allison asked.

"I'm her cousin," the young man replied. He stuck his hand out to her for a handshake and introduced himself, "Mike. My name's Mike."

Allison sighed and shook Mike's hand. "I'm Allison. I'm sorry I broke in here. I just really needed to get some information."

"What do you need information for anyway?" Mike wanted to know.

"Like I told you at the store, I'm doing a report on the Drexler Bombing."

"What's that got to do with Maya?"

"I'm not honestly not even sure," Allison answered. Placing her hand on her forehead, she continued, "I actually came to find information on Will Traveler. The name of the bookstore – it just triggered something in me. I thought whoever owned the store might have something on Traveler."

"Sorry, but you're three months too late," Mike replied. "If my cousin did know something then she probably took it to her grave."

"So, you don't know anything about Will Traveler?"

"All I know is what I heard on the news," Mike shrugged.

Allison nodded and said, "Ok. Ok. Sorry. I guess I'll just get leave now then."

"Alright."

Mike turned and led Allison up the stairs. He opened the door for her and looked at her as she passed by. Before leaving the house, Allison turned to Mike and flashed him an awkward smile. "Sorry again for breaking in here. I shouldn't have," Allison said with her head hung low.

Mike smiled back and replied, "It's cool. Don't worry 'bout it."

Allison smiled up at him once again and walked down the cobblestones. As she stepped onto the driveway, passing by Mike's blue car, he reached into his pocket and drew out a cellphone. Closing the door, he dialed a number and waited for a response.

"Hey, it's Mike. We've got a problem. There was some chick snooping around here."

"Did you get a name?"

"Just a first name – Allison," Mike replied.

"Did she take anything? Or see anything?"

"Not that I know of. She was in the basement when I came back."

"The files are in there. Check them. I'll call back with further instructions."

Nodding to himself, Mike replied, "Gotcha'."

-Asphodel Meadows-

The bright green dashes on the black digital clock sitting on Tyler's bedside drawer transformed to form 5:24. Beside the time were the two letters 'A' and 'M'. Outside Tyler's window, the sun was just beginning to rise. The top of it was peering over the horizon already as the heavy, gray clouds around it started to disperse. In his bed, Tyler shook and turned over with the white blankets covering his body. A groan escaped his lips as he hugged the gray pillow next to him.

In the guest room beside Tyler's, Jay was quietly snoring. He remained still as he slept soundly. The only movement he made was when he breathed. His body slowly moved up and down as each breath left his chiseled body. Jay wore nothing but a pair of green boxers. His hair was disheveled and covered his forehead. Sleepily, he grabbed the edge of his blanket and pulled it closer to his chest.

The room on the other side of Tyler's belonged to Will. Inside the room, he stood beside the wide window and stared outside. It looked as if he hadn't gotten much sleep. There were bags under his eyes and his face was wrinkled. His hair was quite scruffy though. He rubbed his fingers against his stubbly jaw line as he observed the warm sunrise and scanned the jagged horizon.

-Soleri, AZ – Ten Years Ago-

Will stood on the balcony of his uncle's home. He was wearing a gray t-shirt with the word 'MARINES' written on it in bold, navy blue letters. He also had on a pair of black jogging pants and wore a pair of navy blue slippers on his feet. His tousled brown hair had gotten a little longer. He had been planning to cut it shorter, but he just couldn't find the time. Leaning against the solid white railing of the balcony, Will contemplated his choice to join the military.

The soft wind of the Arizona air brushed passed Will as David walked in from inside. Will apparently didn't notice him as his face remained straight and his eyes were still staring out at the bright, orange sky. David sighed and leaned against the balcony beside Will. Surprised, Will snapped his head to the right and looked at his uncle.

"Hey, Uncle David," he said somberly.

"Hey, kido," David replied. "Something on your mind? You look a little weary."

"Um... no, I'm just thinking about going away to the Marines," Will answered.

"Having second thoughts?"

"No. No. It's not that. It's just – "

"Hey, I know you're scared. I was scared too when I first enlisted," David said. Will turned to him and looked him in the eyes. "But trust me, that fear, it's not gonna do anything for ya'. You let it in and it'll eat you up."

"Is this supposed to make me feel better, Uncle David? 'Cause it's not," Will replied, smiling.

David chuckled and pushed Will's head off to the side. "I'm just sayin', you have to be strong and brave. You're meant for something greater, Stephen. I know you are."

"What greater purpose could I possibly be meant for?" Will doubtfully asked.

David faced Will and smiled at him proudly. "You're meant to save people."

-----

Eyes fixated on the horizon, Will didn't even hear the Porter entering his room. He stayed standing still with his hands stuffed in his pockets. At the doorway, the Porter knocked his knuckles against the wooden door and looked at Will once he turned.

"The Baron would like to see you and your friends," The Porter notified him. Right away, he turned around and left.

Will could hear his footsteps clamoring down the stairs as he exited the room himself and looked into Jay and Tyler's room. Jay was already up and putting a shirt on, but Tyler, on the other hand, sat on the edge of his bed. His hair was sticking up strangely and dry saliva rested on the corners of his lips. Part of the covers were still on his lap as he sat up and stretched his arms into the air. Jay finished putting on some pants and followed Will out into the hall.

"C'mon, Ty," Jay urged from the doorway.

"Hold on!" Tyler crankily yawned. He shoved the blankets off his lower body and grabbed an orange t-shirt on the floor. He adjusted it over his head and shoulders and left the room with Jay and Will. The three boys headed down the stairs and turned the corner to head into the living room where the Baron and the Porter awaited. "What do you think they want?" Tyler asked as he followed Jay and Will across the hallway.

Neither Jay nor Will answered as they entered the living room. The Baron looked up at them and smiled, but the Porter's face remained still and stoic. The Baron motioned for the boys to sit at the couch and said, "Good morning. I trust your sleep was fine."

"It was. It definitely was," Tyler replied as he plopped himself down beside Jay.

"Good. Good," the Baron said, nodding. "I called the three of you here to give you your mission."

"Our mission?" Jay repeated. "Hold on, we're not some soldiers you can order around. We have our own stuff to deal with if you already forgot."

"At ease, Mr. Burchell," the Baron told him. "This mission involves your quest for the truth."

"What is it then?" Will anxiously wanted to know.

"Have you ever heard of John Trumbull?"

"Yeah, he's that painter. The one who painted the Declaration of Independence," Tyler answered.

"Exactly. You remember that painting? The one that you stole, Will. The one Freed wanted so badly from you."

Will nodded and said, "Yeah. What about it?"

"There's a very good reason Freed was so intent on destroying it in the Drexler Bombing and so intent on retrieving it when he found out you stole it."

"And what reason would that be?" Jay wanted to know.

"You're going to have to go back to New Haven for that answer," the Baron said.

"No way!" Jay shouted. "Go back to New Haven?! That's crazy!"

"You want answers, you're going to have to risk all you've got to get them," the Baron told Jay. He looked at the three boys one at a time and said, "Upon Trumbull's death, he was interred beneath the Art Gallery at Yale. His crypt holds the answers you seek."

Will nodded and turned to Jay and Tyler. "Guess we're goin' back to school," he sighed.

"We will provide you with a car and new IDs just in case," the Baron said. "Please follow Mr. Anselmo here."

Jay, Tyler, and Will all looked up at the Porter who blankly stared back at them. He walked away from the Baron's side and headed across the room. The three boys followed him outside to the garage.

"Anselmo, huh?" Tyler said.

"Be quiet," the Porter replied. He unlocked the door to the garage and entered. He led the boys over to a car draped in a white tarp. "You'll take this and head to New Haven. You're going to need to refill the tank a bit so here's some money," the Porter grabbed an envelope from his jacket pocket and handed it to Tyler. He pulled the tarp off the car, revealing it to be a white '97 Honda Civic hatchback. Continuing, he added, "In the glove compartment, you'll find a map marking your route from here to New Haven. Your new IDs are also in there. This is going to be a long trip, so I hope you boys are ready."

"As ready as we'll ever be," Jay sighed.

The Porter nodded and handed Jay the keys. "Be careful. It all depends on you." Jay nodded and stepped into the front seat. Will opened the back seat door and hopped inside as Tyler nodded to the Porter and sat down in the passenger seat. Jay started for the garage door as the Porter reminded them, "I'll be watching."

"We'll be waiting," Tyler said, smiling and showing the Porter his gold watch. He sighed and slumped back in his chair as Jay headed out the garage. The Porter followed them outside and watched as the Civic sped up the path away from the ranch house.

Returning to the ranch house, the Porter locked the front door behind him and made his way to the living room. The Baron was still seated at his recliner, staring out the window. He sighed as the Porter walked up behind him.

"We shouldn't have sacrificed Thomas," the Porter suddenly said.

"You're still angry about that?"

"Thomas was one of our best. We could have drawn them out of Buckley Rock another way," the Porter replied.

"No, they wouldn't have resurfaced unless they knew they were being threatened," the Baron said. "Thomas was a sacrifice our cause demanded."

The Porter sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. He asked, "Are you sure we should be putting all this on their shoulders? Everything hinges on those boys finding the truth. That's a heavy burden. What if they fail?"

"I have faith, Jon," the Baron replied. "My grandson was taught to be the best. He won't fail."

"How are you so sure?"

"Just trust in him, Jon. He will not fail us."

Outside Asphodel Meadows, the white Honda Civic roared down the empty highway they had raced down before. Will's eyes snapped away from the rolling hills outside his window.

"It's not gonna be easy getting into that crypt," Jay said as he drove onwards.

"Has anything been easy on this trip so far?" Tyler asked sardonically.

"It was easy to take a crap last night," Jay jokingly stated.

Tyler burst out laughing and punched Jay's arm. In the backseat, Will shook his head and smiled a little. Suddenly, the roar of another car emanated from the side. Out of nowhere, a black Crown Vic jumped onto the highway and slammed into the rear bumper of the Honda. The car fishtailed, but Jay managed to regain control.

"What the hell was that?!" Jay shouted.

"There's a car behind us!" Will alarmed him. "Speed up. It's trying to take us down!"

Jay stepped hard on the gas pedal, shooting the Civic forward. Behind them, though, the black Crown Vic slammed into the bumper once more. As the Honda started to pull away, the Crown Vic pulled up beside it. Forcefully, the Crown Vic rammed into the side of the Honda. Jay tried to turn the wheel, but was unable to before the left side of the car dropped down into a small ditch. Jay managed to get the car back onto the road, but the Crown Vic charged at him again.

In the passenger seat, Tyler held on tightly to his seatbelt. Staring outside, he tried to get a closer look at the driver of the Crown Vic. Through the black tint, though, he could barely even make out the figure. As the Crown Vic slammed into his side of the car, though, Tyler stared into the window once more. Seated behind the wheel of the car was his own brother.

Tyler's eyes widened as his mouth opened to blurt out, "Gabriel?"