Norman's head was beginning to pound as he removed the ARI glasses, leaning forward in the passenger seat and rubbing his forehead. The sky was growing dark, and the rain attacked the windows with a bit more force. They'd entered the brightly lit city, and Norman felt as if he'd left Pennsylvania altogether. Tall skyscrapers rose into the darkness, supporting the damp clouds like pillars. The streets were lined with strategically placed trees, and illuminated signs glowed in between them. Though the roads were busy with traffic, few people walked the sidewalks.

Ashley had been quiet most of the drive besides the occasional inquiry for directions. Norman still hadn't determined if she was worried about the withdrawal or his use of triptocaine, or perhaps a combination of both. Despite the obvious danger, he seemed to be managing the symptoms without the triptocaine. A migraine was much easier to deal with than passing out cold.

The car turned into a wide parking lot in front of a tall building of mostly glass windows. Norman saw Ashley glance sideways at him as she slowed the car. "This is the place?"

Norman slipped his glasses on, and the red marker appeared in the center of the lot. "This is it." He pulled the glasses off, putting them in his coat pocket.

"But…" Ashley leaned forward as she looked around. "Where is everyone?"

The parking lot appeared to be completely empty. Norman leaned sideways to look up at the building. It didn't surprise him that the ARI had led them there. It looked completely ordinary. But even an ordinary exterior had to have its secret exposed somewhere.

"Drive around the back," said Norman, pulling off his glove. He gazed at the building as the car moved around it. He didn't doubt the ARI, but if he had been using a standard GPS, he'd be convinced that the building was empty.

The area seemed to grow darker as they approached the back of the building. For a moment, Norman worried the ARI had a made a mistake for the first time. Then he spotted it. A dark entrance leading down into a parking lot underneath the building.

"There," he said. "Drive slow."

Ashley snorted next to him. "Who do you think I am?" Norman looked sideways at her, and she glared back at him, her lips pursed. The sky vanished above them as they dropped down into the dark garage.

It was packed with luxury vehicles lined side by side and glinting in the low light. Norman couldn't help scanning the vehicles for a Chevy Malibu even though it was pointless. The deeper they went, the more tense his nerves became. Occasional people walked by, arm in arm and seemingly unable to walk. Norman watched a group of people at a shiny car, one standing up straight over the hood and lowering a cylinder from his nose.

A bright light signaled the end of the descent. As they pulled forward, a large set of double steel doors appeared, guarded by two heavy men dressed in black. Ashley steered the car in between two gleaming vehicles and looked sideways at Norman.

"Are you sure about this?" she said as she turned the car off. Norman felt for his sidearm and failed to stop his sigh.

"To be honest, I haven't been sure of anything lately," he said. Ashley's eyebrows narrowed, and Norman twisted in his seat to face her. "What?"

"I just…" She sighed and pressed her face into the steering wheel. Then she sat up straight and looked at him. "No cop vibes this time. I really don't want to be shot at and I really don't want you to be… melted."

Norman stared at her for a second. "Ashley, I'm not sure they're just going to let two random people just walk into this place."

"And you think they're going to let an FBI agent and a cop walk in?" Ashley arched her back and unbuckled her belt, pulling her gear from around her waist. Norman rubbed his forehead.

"Look, going in unarmed is just asking to get us killed," he said. "Think of where we'd be if we'd just walked into the scrapyard as civilians."

Ashley glared sideways at him, and Norman was reminded of the nervous determination he'd seen when she confronted him about the triptocaine. "I am," she said.

Norman fell back in his seat, frustration burning through him. It was not only suicide, it was just plain foolish. His suit was by now so tattered that he looked as if he'd jumped from a train. And Ashley wasn't dressed at all for the occasion. They'd be laughed from the entrance if they weren't simply shot on the spot.

Then a numb resolution fell over him. Her plans hadn't been a complete disaster as he expected. The stand-off with Nathaniel, the shotgun in Jack's office, the disguise for Ethan Mars… luck seemed to be on her side. As clueless as she was, things seemed to work for her. And against his better judgement, Norman found himself silently agreeing with her.

He ran his hands over his face, dread filling him. "I can't believe we're doing this," he said under his breath as he removed his sidearm. He placed it in the glove compartment, then turned to look at Ashley. She returned his look with bright eyes, then opened the car door and stepped out.

Deep, rhythmic vibrations shook the concrete as Norman exited the car. He followed Ashley to the double doors, his heart hammering in his chest. Everything about this place screamed danger, even though it seemed so innocent from the outside. The two guards glared at them as they approached, and one looked Norman up and down. Norman nervously folded his jacket closed as he stepped towards the guards.

"We're here to see Paco," he said in as confident a tone as he could manage. The guards were silent as they stared at him, and he squared his shoulders. "Paco Mendez."

"Why don't you fuck off?" said one of the guards. Norman felt his face flush.

"We've got business with him," he said. He felt Ashley move next to him as one of the guards moved forward.

"So what? Paco has lots of customers. Get the hell out of here."

"Look, I don't mean to cause trouble─"

"Did you hear what I said?" The guard reached behind him, and Norman recognized the gesture as a serious threat. He took a step back, his heart racing.

Ashley bumped into him. He glanced at her and felt a jolt of anxiety. She'd loosened her hair from her hairband so that her hair fell in fluffy waves just grazing her shoulders, and her eyes were ablaze in determination. She stepped toward the guard, nearly a foot shorter than the burly man, and Norman felt his body grow cold as she ran a hand along the guard's chest. The guard leaned into her, a slight smile playing in his eyes. Norman forced himself to stay rooted to the spot, though every fiber in his body was telling him to pull the two apart.

The guard murmured something, and Ashley twisted her hand, revealing a blue tube. Norman ran a hand over his face as he burst into sweat. He couldn't believe it. She'd taken a tube of triptocaine from him…

Ashley turned toward him as the guard looked up at him. Her eyes were full of terrified focus, but the look the guard gave Norman made him feel even more nervous. The guard smiled and stepped back.

"Paco Mendez will be happy to conduct his business with you, Mr. Jayden," said the guard. "He's on the top floor. Take the elevator at the end of the room." The guard opened one of the double doors, and the vibrating dubstep roared from within the dark gap.

His nerves still on fire, Norman marched forward, cupping Ashley under her arm and pulling her through the double doors. Bright lights flashed in front of them, revealing a long dark hallway which seemed to throb in tune with the loud music.

He turned to her, pinching his eyes shut with his thumb and forefinger. "I can't─ why didn't─ how could you─" A hundred emotions battled in his mind. When he opened his eyes, Ashley had leaned into him.

"Kill me later," she called into his ear. "Let's just get this over with and get out alive." She moved back, her brown eyes flashing in the strobe lights.

Norman breathed out heavily, his muscles finally starting to calm despite the claustrophobic atmosphere. He fumbled in his coat pocket, then moved forward. "Stay close to me, you hear?" he called. Ashley nodded, and Norman moved down the hallway into the club.

The room was busy with moving bodies and pulsing lights. Sweat filled the air, and the atmosphere was thick with heat. It was impossible to tell figures apart, and everything seemed to congeal in one writhing mass. Hands floated in the air and wet bodies moved against eachother. Overhead, slender figures slithered along ropes and poles, taking different poses as the strobe broke up their movement.

Norman kept his head down as he entered the crowd of black figures. Immediately he became disoriented, blocked in one direction and forced to take another. Skin pressed against him, and soon the chill of nervousness was replaced by hot sweat. He glanced back to make sure Ashley was following him, and her wide eyes reflected his own nervous anxiety. He found an opening along the edge and pulled her towards it, met with groups of people deep in business. It was difficult for him to look away though what he saw wrenched his gut. Some figures were draped in blank stupor, others wrapped around themselves in motion much different than the dance that surrounded them.

The further they moved through the crowd, the louder the music seemed to grow. It filled Norman's head so that his temples pounded, and the tingling started in his hands. He tried to press his hands to his eyes, but found he couldn't lift his arms. There were too many people. It was too loud. Too tight. The darkness took over everything. Something touched his neck, and as he turned to find Ashley again, he was met with a different face breathing hot air against his mouth before drifting away into the moving crowd.
Norman spun, his heart racing. He moved through the crowd, stretching his arm out as if he were swimming between bodies. It was impossible to see between the darkness and the light. Everything was in motion. It was all the same temperature. The same texture. The heavy music threatened to pound him into floor. He gazed up to steady himself, and felt his heart nearly stop as he stared at a ceiling of squirming blue dots.

Norman felt his mouth drop open, and suddenly he was pulled to the side. Figures slithered past him as he moved, finally able to find a clear footing. The strobes blinded him as if fighting his way forward, and he held his hand up against it. The bodies disappeared, the air cooled, and Norman raised his head.

Ashley stood in front of him, her back against the wall. She pressed one hand against her face while the other gripped Norman's wrist. A shallow relief swept over him as he moved towards her.

"You okay?" he said. She nodded, standing up straight. Her face was beaded with sweat and her normally wide eyes were weary. They'd only been separated for a moment, but she looked about as traumatized as he felt.

He did his best to shake off his anxiety and moved along the wall. The tension on his arm assured him Ashley still had a hold of him. They passed several figures, and then Norman felt his heart leap. A small square light illuminated an arrow on the wall. He quickly stepped toward it and slammed his fist against it. The doors opened immediately, and Norman pulled Ashley into the brightly lit elevator. He hit the fourth floor button and stepped back, savoring the space.

The music was muffled as the doors closed. Norman hunched forward, his hands on his knees, and Ashley leaned back against the wall. For a moment, the only sound was their heavy breathing.

"I feel like I just survived the roughest sex in my life," said Ashley. Norman breathed an exhausted laugh, glancing up at her.

"Are you trying to tell me something about yourself?" he said.

Ashley tilted her head sideways at him, throwing him a glare. "Fuck you, Norman," she said. She coughed lightly, then a smile spread across her face as she tilted her head back.

The doors slid open, and Norman straightened. A low lit corridor stretched in front of them, ending in a set of black doors. A guard stood halfway down the hall and turned to look in their direction. Norman's senses told him he was entering a far more dangerous area than the one he'd just left, but somehow it felt easier to breathe now that he was out of the club.

He put a hand under Ashley's arm as they left the elevator which closed behind them. Hallways branched off from the main corridor, but Norman was confident about the direction. As they stepped near the black doors, the guard moved in front of them, holding his hand up to stop them.

"Sorry, this area is off limits," said the guard. Norman paused, thinking quickly of a comeback when the coarse static echoed from the guard's walkie-talkie.

"It's fine, Pedro. Let him in."

The guard threw them both a confused glare, then stood square with Norman. "Hold out your arms."

Norman raised his hands, and the guard patted him down around his midsection and down his legs. The guard moved to the side, and checked Ashley's sides and legs, albeit with more smoothness to his touch. Then the guard stepped aside, waving them in with a flick of his hand.

Norman moved past the guard glancing behind him to make sure Ashley was following him. As they approached the doors, he felt his face flush. He couldn't be quite sure of the muffled noises leaking beyond the doors… no. He was very sure. Norman paused, running a hand over his face. So far, Paco was living up to every inch of his ARI summary. It still hadn't prepared Norman for witnessing it first-hand. He felt a rush of air as Ashley stepped past him, and before he could stop her, she opened one of the black doors.

The exhausted moaning rang down the corridor, and from the hallway, Norman could see Ashley's face turn white. "Eh, señorita come in!" A thick Spanish voice was barely audible over the moans. "Oi! Let's cut it there! Got some business here."

Somehow it seemed easier now that Ashley had taken the brunt of it. Norman moved forward, reaching over her shoulder and pushing the door open further. Still, he wasn't ready for the scene in front of him. He rubbed his forehead as he stepped inside the room, trying as hard as he could to pretend he wasn't aware of the two women sliding off eachother. The walls were bathed in rippled blue light that was cast from a massive fishtank which took up one side of the room. A bar made up the other side, showcasing a grand assortment of bottles and glasses. The room was bordered with shelves displaying high dollar collectibles such as guitars, glass ornaments, and swords.

Norman stepped towards a large mahogany desk which faced a set of white couches, and forced himself to glance towards them. A man in a zebra-patterned jacket stood over a tripod, adjusting a camera which was pointed at the two women. "Ah, that's it! Keep yourselves wet. This won't take long." The man turned, gazing at Norman through green tinted glasses. "You must be señor Jayden. I'm Paco Mendez." He held out a hand, but before Norman could shake it, Paco pulled it back again, switching to his other hand. Paco chuckled. "The ladies keep me busy today. Let's make this quick, eh?"

Norman shook his hand, and Paco moved around the desk. As Norman shifted towards him, he spotted Ashley at one end of the desk. Her eyebrows were narrowed over her bright eyes, and her mouth slightly open in disgust as she watched the two women on the couch. It seemed to take ages before she noticed that Norman was watching her, and she raised her eyes up to the ceiling, blowing a bit of hair out of her face.

"You're the guy with the powder, right?" Paco filled a shotglass and drank it, his eyes falling on Ashley. "Mmm." Paco lowered the glass. "If your product is as lovely as your women, you're gonna be a rich man. Buy yourself a new suit first. You look like shit." He laughed as he poured himself another glass.

Norman stepped forward, resting his hands on the desk. "I'm just here to make a trade, if you're willing to negotiate."

Paco motioned toward him with the glass. "Straight to the point, eh? Let's see what you got."

Norman glanced at Ashley who wrapped her arms around herself and gave him an encouraging nod. Struggling to beat down his shame, he reached into his coat pocket and grasped one of the vials. He set it down on the desk on its cap so that it stood upright, glinting sapphire in the low light.

Paco leaned forward, staring at the vial. "This is─ whoa!" He picked up the vial and held it up into the light. "Tripto? Man, you gotta have serious connections to get this stuff!" Paco clicked open the cap, tipping some of the blue powder onto his hand before bowing his head and inhaling it. He sniffed a few times, and nodded. "Clean! Real clean! Man, it's about time I got some classy product coming through my store."

Paco sprinkled a small pile onto his finger, and moved towards Ashley. "So tripto and women, huh? What's your price?" Norman fought the urge to rush forward as Paco stepped next to her and held his hand to her face. Ashley glared at Paco menacingly, which on her face was somewhat comical. She turned her head away. "No?" said Paco. Ashley mumbled something and Paco leaned into her. "Qué?"

"M allergic," said Ashley. Paco burst into laughter, scattering the triptocaine into the air. Norman sighed heavily as Paco hunched over the desk, gasping between laughs. At least Paco had a sense of humor.

"Hey, I don't care as long as she's not allergic to dicks," said Paco, moving back toward his chair. Norman fought to keep himself from balling his fists.

"She's not for sale," he said. The seriousness in his tone surprised even him, and the room seemed to fall silent. Paco froze in the middle of pouring another drink, and the slick sounds behind him faded.

Paco glanced up, his eyes narrowed. For a moment, Norman worried that he might have cost them their only chance at negotiation. Then Paco chuckled and resumed pouring. "Alright, alright. But let me tell you." He supported the shotglass with his thumb and middle finger as he pointed at Norman. "You're missing a valuable opportunity to make a lot of money."

"I'll deal with it," said Norman. Again, deep anger leaked into his tone. He breathed in slowly to settle his nerves. "Let's just talk trade. I'll give you the triptocaine. All I want is the name of the man who drives the 1983 Chevrolet Malibu that you bought three years ago from the scrapyard."

Paco looked at him over the rim of the shotglass. It was difficult to read his face, but Norman thought he saw a flash of worry in Paco's eyes. Paco lowered the glass and pursed his lips. "That's a really specific trade. What does a guy like you need with that information?"

Norman racked his brain quickly for a solid answer. He had no way of knowing if Paco was friends with the man, or if he was simply protecting himself. Norman flexed his hands on the desk. "Let's just say he killed someone I know. And maybe I want to kill him."

Out of the corner of his eye, Norman saw Ashley clench her hands on her arms. Paco shook his head, a smile forming on his lips. "You crazy. You think you're gonna kill him?" Paco leaned forward, the lights glinting on his glasses. "You got any idea who he is?"

It was difficult for Norman to hide his excitement. They were so close to an answer, he could almost taste it. "I just want his name."

There was a tap as Paco set the glass on the desk. "That's an expensive trade, señor Jayden. I don't think triptocaine is gonna cut it." Paco stared at him as if daring him for a counter. Norman struggled to think of something else. If triptocaine wasn't going to get the name of the Origami Killer, what else could he do to pry the information out of him?

Paco looked past Norman, and a sly smile spread across his face. "I tell you what." Paco stepped toward Ashley who drew up her shoulders and wrapped her arms tighter around herself. "I'm making a video here. Your woman stars in it, and we call it a deal?"

This time, Norman felt his face flush as he stood up straight. "I told you she's not for sale."

"Everything is for sale," Paco's voice became a growl and he pointed at Norman, "that I say is for sale. You walked into my club. I own everyone in here. You don't make the deals." Paco glared at Norman, and Norman fiercely stared back at him. Ashley trembled as she looked back and forth between them.

Norman plunged his hand into his pocket. "This is twenty grand's worth." He dropped the handful of blue vials onto the desk. "It's everything I've got." He didn't need to wear the ARI to see Paco's eyes light up at the sight of the triptocaine now rolling across the desk. But as soon as Norman saw it, Paco's eyes shot back to him again.

"You had all that, and you were just gonna trade me a few grams of triptocaine?" Paco moved back in front of the desk, and Norman's heart nearly stopped as Paco drew a pistol from his zebra skin coat. "You trying to slight me, señor Jayden?"

Norman could hear Ashley's frightened breaths. He forced himself to keep his composure. "All I want is a name," he said.

"And all I want is everything you got," said Paco. Norman felt sweat bead his forehead as he glanced at the pistol in Paco's hand. There had to be something else. Something he was missing. Paco was only interested in two things: drugs and sex. Drugs apparently weren't enough. But there was no way Norman was stooping that low.

He looked at Ashley who looked back at him, her eyebrows narrowed in tense worry. Her plan had gotten them this far, but it looked like they had finally hit a dead end. Norman dropped his head and flexed his shoulders. He still had one last card to play, and it wouldn't get them any closer to the killer's name.

Norman looked up at Paco. "I'm changing the deal," he said. "I give you all my triptocaine, and you let us leave."

Paco's eyes narrowed in surprise. Norman struggled to control his guilt. It was the only thing he had left to negotiate. The only ounce of control he had left in this situation.

Ashley stepped forward. "Norman…"

The softness in her voice caused Norman to bolt upright. He turned to her and raised a finger, fury burning through him. "No."

Ashley froze as he stared into her brown eyes. A dozen emotions seemed to dart across her face, defiance being the strongest. But Norman's determination kept him focused. This was one line he wasn't going to cross, whether or not she wanted to make her own decision. They'd followed her plan, and it was over now. The most important thing was getting out alive.

Norman turned back to Paco, still aware of Ashley's eyes on him. "Twenty grand in triptocaine," said Norman. "Just to let us leave." He gazed over the barrel of the pistol and watched as Paco's eyes twitched in contemplation. If Norman had read the ARI summary right, Paco would accept the deal. If not, Norman might as well pull the trigger himself.

Paco's crooked smile appeared. He cocked the gun sideways, and fitted it back into his jacket. "Now that's a deal we can both agree on."
Norman barely stopped a heavy sigh of relief. He stood up straighter as Paco rolled a vial across the desk so that it clicked against the others. "I mean, how can I say no when someone walks into my office and drops a bunch of triptocaine on my desk, eh?" said Paco, his voice breaking in laughter. He waved his hand and sat in his chair. "Go on, get outta here."

Norman's body was practically on fire from adrenaline. Without hesitation, he stepped sideways, gripping Ashley under the arm. She pulled as she walked with him towards the door.

"Norman─" Her voice seemed to fail as Norman threw a glare at her. He wasn't going to argue here. Not when he'd just bargained for their lives. He could deal with her disappointment later. Right now, all that mattered was getting out of the office.

He opened the door and turned away from her. Then he stopped dead in his tracks.

A loud pop echoed through the hallway. It registered in Norman's mind before he made sense of what he was seeing. The guard in the hall jolted backwards, his head hitting the wall against the explosion of blood. His lifeless body crumpled to the floor at the feet of the man still pointing the pistol where the guard's head had been.

The man turned and looked at Norman, and Norman's blood ran cold at the stoical expression on the man's face. This man had an agenda. And now he and Ashley were on it.

Then the man twisted his body, and turned the pistol towards him.