Quiet. Peacefulness. Bliss and relaxation. Warmth and perfect comfort. Just perfect.
"Get up."
He turned his head to the side. He could sleep just a little bit longer, just a bit more. A minute two or more wouldn't hurt.
"Get up Webb..."
That voice...It wouldn't stop. It kept bothering him, taking him out of his peaceful sleep. Just close your eyes, it will go away eventually... Just close your eyes and go back to sleep...
"I said get up!"
Their was three loud knocks at the door, causing Webb to jump and nearly fall out of his bed, startled by the sudden volume and taken out of his peaceful sleep. He closed his eyes and sighed, already knowing who was on the other side.
"You better be ready in five minutes." The familiar voice of Nathaniel Miller called. "And you don't want to keep me waiting..."
Webb rubbed his head and looked over at the clock. 6:30. Way too early for him. But not early for Miller.
There was no point in trying to fight it, he'd better get up unless he wanted to face the painful consequences. Miller wasn't one to keep waiting, and Webb already knew what would happen if he tried to disobey.
He reluctantly brought himself out of his warm bed and stretched, still trying to wake up his half asleep body. He had five minutes to get ready, five minutes to prepare for another day's work. Only this time, he would be working with Nathaniel Miller, and he already knew the type of work he would be expecting.
He wished he had fifteen minutes rather then five. Especially with Miller.
"Well, lets just get up and get this day over with..." Webb thought as he brought himself up. "No point in delaying in the inevitable... "
Well, at least a day with Nathaniel Miller always seemed to end up being an interesting one...
Agent Stephan Obreiski felt like he was experiencing deja vu, the same sights, the same sounds, the same everything. And it was the second time in only a couple days.
He looked at the young girl's pale face and blonde hair, highlighted by the bright morning sun. Her eyes were closed, just like the last one. Her wrists were slit, just like lthe last one. A folded American flag soaked in blood was next to her head, just like the last one. And finally, a small figuring was sitting in her hand, just like the ext one...
The Patriot had stuck again, giving another crime scene with seemingly no evidence and nothing to go on.
Obreiski sighed. "Audio memo two, the victim's name is Aleksis Romanov, age 22. Declared missing two weeks ago."
As he knelt down, he gingerly opened the young woman's hand, just as he had done to the first girl only a couple days ago when he had first arrived.
"A small figurine is placed in the victims hand, the words Patriot are on the figurine." Obreiski said into the recorder. "The figuring is silver with a gloss polish. No prints or other identifiable markings can be seen at the present time, mostly likely washed away in the rain at the time the scene was made..."
His eyes went from the girls hand to the American flag folded up by her head, blood soaked.
"Audio memo two, an American flag soaked in the victims blood is placed just above the victims head." Obreiski stated, studying the flag. "No other evidence can be obtained from the flag..."
He rose, taking a final look over Aleksis's body, taking note of every detail.
"Based on the way the victim was left, as well as the way she was killed, it is safe to assume that this is another murder from the USSA leader known only as the Patriot." Obreiski declared, standing over the body. "If autopsy reports confirm that she died of a heartattck just like the last victim, then it only-
"Are you about done?"
Obreiski closed his eyes and turned around to see Irene standing impatiently behind him, her arms crossed, waiting expectantly.
"Can't you see I'm busy?" Obreiski said, raising his small recording device. "Why did you even come if your just going to complain?"
"In case you don't remember, It's now my job to 'babysit' you." Irene explained sharply, glaring at him. "Someone has to keep an eye on you at all times, remember?"
"Oh, right..." Obreiski replied sarcastically. "Just in case I try to plant a bomb, right?"
Irene's eyes turned to razors. "Why don't you just go back to talking to yourself 'Stephan'..."
"More then happy to." Obreiski replied, tuning away from her.
Ever since he had meet with Director Lukin, he had to be under constant supervision, as a act of 'protocol' to make sure he wasn't leaking information in an attempt to aid the U.S government in the war. After all, the Russian government wasn't going to take lightly to an FBI agent walking around their streets freely, especially since the two country's were at war. Some form of surveillance and restriction had to be taken, and that entire plan was in the form of Irene Sedusky.
It was the last person he wanted to be around. She was always hostile, always aggressive, always arguing with him. It made his work that much more stressful and that much more harder. Why couldn't Cecile or Henri watch over him instead? At least they didn't hate his guts.
Maybe he could get Irene so mad, that she would demand a different position, that way someone else could be assigned to watch him, someone who at least didn't despise him.
He shook his head and sighed. He had more important things to worry about then his personal problems. For now, he would have to tolerate Irene.
Obreiski brought the receiver back to his mouth. "Audio memo two..."
Makarov opened his eyes, finding himself listening to the ringing of his telephone sitting on his nightstand. He blindly reached out, trying to make contact with the phone as he layed in bed, still half asleep.
He finally got hold of the phone and brought it to his ear. "Hello?"
The familiar voice of Anatoly answered. "Makarov! Great news?"
Makarov raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"You know how we've been monitoring the police, just like you said?" Anatoly explained in excitement. "And to let you know if they found anything?"
Makarov continued to listen to Anatoly, until he heard works he never expected to hear this soon.
"What!" Makarov exclaimed, quickly sitting up. "Are you sure?"
"Positive."
Makarov couldn't believe it. He thought it would take the police longer to find such a lead, but it seemed like they already had. It was the first step to finding the Patriot, finding Nina. Saving Nina. Ending this once and for all.
"On my way." Makarov said quickly before hanging up the phone. He was already out of bed and getting dressed, anxious to move.
The police had found a USSA member, and he was living in the city.
David Locke would be the first step to finding the Patriot, and saving his sister.
Webb continued behind Miller, walking along the street as they continued along to their destination.
"So what are we doing sir?" Webb asked, walking next to Miller.
"Picking up an item." Miller explained simply, walking up a flight of small steps to an apartment door.
The two entered through the door and into the building. "And what type of item would that be?"
Miller gave a cold smile. "Just a special ingredient..."
Webb nodded. "I see..."
Webb already knew what Miller was talking about as the two walked down the hall in the rundown apartment complex. They were picking up more of the nerve gas. The hydrochloric phosphorus. The supposed key to everything.
"Here." Miller said, stopping at one of the wooden doors. "This is were he lives."
Webb watched as Miller took out his silver .44 Magnum, cocking it and making sure it was loaded.
"Um, why do you need that?" Webb asked, eying the silver gun.
"Insurance." Miller explained simply, as if that answered Webb's questions instantly.
Webb reached to his side and pulled out his M9. "Right...Insurance...Hope it won't be needed."
Miller gave five hard knocks at the wooden door, using the grip of his pistol as a hammer, causing the knocks to be twice as hard.
The two waited for the door to open, listening for the footsteps that would follow. But they didn't hear anything. only silence.
"Guess no one's home..." Webb said, putting his pistol back to his side. "Guess will have to come back-
A loud crack caused Webb to look up in surprise as he looked to see the door's lock broken, having been kicked in by Miller.
"Guess will have to make sure." Miller said quietly, his .44 raised. He carefully checked the area around the apartment entrance before proceedeing inside.
Webb brought his M9 back out and sighed, following suit, carefully checking every corner and cranny, sweeping the apartment and covering Miller.
The place looked like a bomb factory. Spliced wires and other electronics littered the floor, with soldering and other tools covering the tables. Other assorted instruments were placed in random places, making it hard to believe that someone actually lived here.
"Seems like Mikhail Nanko is a pretty busy guy." Webb said as he looked around the messy apartment, his M9 still slightly raised.
"He's a snake and a mentally damaged scientist, giving whatever the highest bidder needs." Miller explained, looking around the apartment. "He gives us what we need and we don't have to worry about him telling the police. Just another desperate peasant..."
Webb continued to look around the apartment. "So what are exactly are we looking for?"
"A safe." Miller replied. "And that's all you need to know."
Webb glared off to the side. "Ya, of course it is..."
Miller was always keeping secrets from everyone, including his team. He wondered if he even trusted the Patriot. He never figured out why he was in the USSA. He had never told anyone what had happened to him during the invasion, or why he had joined up. It just never crossed his mind. Maybe the answered lie in his office, just like the address he had found.
Suddenly, he remembered and realized the address, and where he was right now.
"613 Wevering avenue..." Webb thought, looking around the room. "That's exactly were I am right now!"
The address had the subject 'supplier' written above it, and it all made sense now. Mikhail Nanko was the supplier of the nerve gas, the one that held the key to everything.
If that was the case, then he must know something, something that could give him another lead to the Patriot. The answer had to lie in this room somewhere. It had to bee somewhere.
He looked around quickly, keeping one eye on Miller as he searched. He wouldn't look suspicion since Miller and him were lookng for something in the first place, but he didn't want to take any chances. No mistakes. Nothing to cause any suspicion.
He looked at Mikhail's desk, and noticed a small card on the scientist's desk. He casually picked it up, reading over it.
"Karl?" Webb thought to himself, reading over it. "Yellow Lust? The hell's that mean?"
"You still looking or what?" Miller asked, noticing Webb's pause.
"Um, ya." Webb replied quickly, putting the card back down, already having memorized it. "I'll check over-
He was interrupted by another set of footsteps, ones that were different from his and Miller's. Webb looked up to see a weakly looking man standing in the middle of the living room, looking at Miller in silent horror.
A sly smile sketched across Miller's face. "Ah, Mikhail, just the man we needed to see..."
Mikhail took a step back in fear, looking at Miller's .44. "What are you doing here?"
"We're just here to pick up a few things." Webb said, putting his pistol back to his side. "Thats all friend."
Mikhail's eyes traveled back from Webb to Miller. "You said I had two weeks. That was the timeline!"
"Timeline's changed." Miller declared, putting his.44 back to his side. "I want the chemical now."
Mikhail shook his head. "N-N-No, you don't understand. I-I don't have it, if I just had more time, I could-
"Mikhail, have you ever heard of 'Kinesics?" Miller asked, slowly approaching Mikhail.
Mikhail stood frozen. "What?"
"Its the study of body language, how people react and show emotions through their body language." Miller explained, slowly inching towards Mikhail. "If your really good, you can tell when people are being sincere. When someone has a crush on you. When someone is talking behind your back. And when someone is lying to you..."
A lump formed in Mikhail's throat. "I-I if your implying-
"I've been practicing Kinesics, and I've gotten quite skilled at it..." Miller continued, staring directly. "So skilled in fact, that i'm never wrong. Especially when someone's lying..."
"Easy Miller..." Webb said quietly, standing beside them.
"So i'm going to make this simple for you." Miller said coldly. "I want that chemical..."
Mikhail shook his head. "And I told you, I don't-
Miller grabbed the man by the neck of his collar, dragging him violently only inches to Miller. Webb winced as he continued to watch.
"Maybe I need to make this simpler for you..." Miller said harshly, glaring at Mikhail. "Why don't trying using something other then words?"
"Miller, are you out of your goddamn mind!" Webb yelled, watching the scene unfold in front of him. He couldn't let him beat him around like that, the man looked like he was about to have a heart attack. He was telling the truth, Miller was just looking for the imposable, the man didn't have what he needed.
"Please..." Mikhail pleaded. "I-I already told you..."
"Your nothing but a pile of shit." Miller snarled, beginning to choke the man. "Don't you understand, your life is nothing to me! Do I need to go on?"
Mikhail gasped for breath. "Please..."
Miller threw him violently to the ground, kicking him in the side. "Just try me! Go on and try me!"
Webb looked at the man, gasping for breath as he clutched his side in pain. He knew how it felt, how it felt to be beaten to a pulp. How it felt to be on the receiving end of Nathaniel Miller's anger.
Miller closed his eyes and sighed. "I think I should just put a bullet in this animal's head and find it one my own..."
Suddenly, Mikhail jumped to his feet and swiftly pulled out a concealed pistol, catching both Webb and Miller off guard. Mikhail stood posed in anger, the pistol shaking in his hand as he aimed it at Miller.
"Fucking American dog!"
Webb instantly drew his M9. "Drop the gun Mikhail!"
"I'm going to take care of you once and for all!" Mikhail yelled, ignoring Webb. "I should have done this along time ago..."
Miller took a step back, his hands raised slightly in surrender, unable to grab his revolver.
"Shoot him Matthew!" Miller ordered, looking back between Mikhail and Webb. "For fuck sakes, fire your weapon and kill him!"
Webb took a deep breath. He couldn't let him kill Miller, but he wasn't going to shoot the man. Rational approach, that what he would take. There was no reason to kill him. He was just scared and desperate, not himself. He just needed to calm him down. He didn't have to die over this. No one did...
"Calm down Mikhail, no one is going to hurt you." Webb assured quickly, his pistol still trained on the man. "We're not here to cause you any pain, I promise you!"
Mikhail continued to aim the pistol at Miller, his finger on the trigger. Webb's finger was also wrapped around his gun's trigger, the sights aimed on the man's head. Mikhail had Miller's life in his hands, Webb had Mikhail in his...
"Listen, your not going to do yourself good if you pull that trigger." Webb said calmly, pleading with Mikhail. "You have to trust me, you won't get a second chance if-
"Second chance my ass!" Miller snarled, glaring at Webb. "Get this gun out of my fucking face and shoot this dog Matthew! That's an order!"
"I'm going to erase you from the face of the earth..." Mikhail said quietly. "Erase you for good... Erase you for good..."
Webb took another deep breath "Listen to me Mikhail, Nathaniel Miller and I are going to leave right now, and never come back."
"What?" Miller asked, staring at Webb as if he had gone crazy.
"Miller, our business is finished here." Webb continued, ignoring Miller's outbursts. "The Patriot has given us new orders. Lets go and leave Mikhail alone."
"Erase you for good..." Mikhail continued to repeat, the pistol still drawn. "I can erase you...Erase you... Erase you...Erase you.."
"Listen to my voice Mikhail." Webb said calmly. "Just listen to my voice, nothing else. Do nothing else and trust me. You have to trust me."
"I need him to calm down, get him away from Miller..." Webb thought to himself, assessing the situation. "I just have to calm him down, he's not himself..."
"I don't want to shoot you Mikhail, please..." Webb said in a calm voice. "But if you pull that trigger, I'll have no choice..."
Mikhail continued to glare at Miller, his pistol aimed, ready to fire. Webb looked as he slightly relaxed his grip on the gun, his hand slowly stopping to shake. A sign that he was calming down. A sign Webb was looking for.
"Take three steps back." Webb ordered. "Slowly..."
Mikhail stepped back slowly, just as Webb had said. He still held the pistol, still aimed at Miller. His finger still on the trigger.
"Drop the gun Mikhail." Webb said. "Set it on the ground and kick it over to me. Do this slowly..."
Mikhail calmly nodded and carefully placed the pistol on the ground, kicking it over to Webb.
"Put both of your hands on your head." Webb ordered, his M9 still trained on the man. Mikhail slowly placed his hands on his head and took a deep breath.
"Now turn around." Webb ordered, slightly lowering his pistol.
Mikhail nodded in comply and turned around, his hands still on his head, away from Miller.
Webb gave a sigh of relief. Finally it was over. No bullets fired. No blood spilled. No one killed. Just the way-
A loud gunshot rang out, causing Webb to look up in surprise and nearly drop his pistol. The only thing he saw was a sudden muzzle flash then the color of blood flying through the air.
Bright crimson drenched the wall as Mikhail fell to the ground, his head now a bloody mess. Webb watched as the man fell to the ground, dead before his head crashed to the floor.
He slowly lowered his pistol in horror, and looked over to see Miller holding his .44, the barrel smoking from the recent shot.
"Y-You..." Webb started, still comprehending what had just happened. "Y-You shot him...You killed him..."
Miller casually placed the pistol back to his side and walked up to Mikhail's body. He reached into the man's pocket and pulled out a set of keys.
Webb couldn't even begin to understand. He had surrendered. There was no reason for him to die. He had surrendered...
Miller walked over to near by safe and inserted the key into the lock, unlocking the safe and opening it's door. He reached in and pulled out a dozen small phials, each with a deadly warning label.
"He surrendered..." Webb said quietly, looking at Mikhail's body. "He surrendered...And you just executed him..."
"I told you to shoot." Miller replied, heading to the door. "Would have saved me the trouble..."
Webb just shook his head. The only reason why he would of shot him is in defense. Not to murder him. He had dropped his weapon. He had put his hands on his head. Webb had finally calmed him down, and promised him that nothing was going to happen to him. He had promised that they weren't going to hurt him. He had believed him until the very end...
"Someone had to of heard that shot..." Miller said. "Let go before the police get here."
Webb just shook his head. This man's death had been unnecessary, avoidable, preventable. Just like his mothers...
Webb took one final look at Mikhail before putting his M9 away and following behind Miller.
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