Hello there! So, who else thought the DCI Finals were amazing? I was so inspired! I wanted to sit down and write my own drill and everything, but I figured that this was the story I could vent my creativity on! I got a lot of great feedback on the last chapter and I know that a lot of you are just eager for the next chapter! So, I won't keep you waiting.

There was something else I was going to type, but I forgot it, so it wasn't that important, I guess. (Insert usual story disclaimer here; I don't own anything but the characters, plot line, and some of the events...)

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Letters And Suspects

"You got a letter, too?"

"Yup."

"And you?"

"Same as Hamon."

The three directors sat at their usual table in their usual diner after ordering their usual meal. Tyler and Paul sat together across from Peter, who was stretched out as always, shades on his forehead even though summer was long gone. At least he had swapped the sandals for marching shoes, although Tyler had to wonder if Peter had any other footwear than sandals and marching shoes. Outside, a gentle snow was falling, the flakes melting as soon as they hit the window, leaving rivulets of water to puddle on the sidewalk. It was unusually warm for a snowfall, the temperature logically too hot for snow. Just as soon as it couldn't have gotten any colder, late November brought a heat wave. Not enough to take out the shorts, but not heavy snow jacket weather, either.

The three letters spread on the table were the topic of that night's meeting at the diner. They had gotten letters like this from the division leaders before and from the sponsors, but never from the drum corps corporation. Tyler looked at his letter from where it rested on the place mat before him, reading the bitter words once more.

To the attention of Mr. Deleyney, Music Director of The Knights,

It has been brought to our attention that several rules have possibly been broken in the current season of drum and bugle corps, specifically in the manner of which practice has been conducted. As you know, we do not encourage more than four hours of practice per night per member, and it has been recognized that your practice per night exceeds four hours. Your corps currently, according to our records submitted by Mr. Hamon, Director of Marching And Tour, holds 135 members, exactly our limit of acceptable musicians. Working 135 members long than the recommended practice session leads to issues with the corps. You have three registered instructors for a corps of 135 members, which is almost very highly discouraged. Discipline cannot be achieved if there is a lack of instructors.

According to our source, a fight ensued several weeks ago over a female. Whether the woman in question was related to the corps is unknown, but you will be reminded that your corps is registered under male-only funding. We would ask you to abide by the corporation rules and report such incidents in a prompt manner.

We also have not received your list of sponsors from the current season. We would ask for that information to be sent at once to headquarters.

Good luck with the season. Spring training begins in the middle of May. You will be contacted with information prior to spring camp.

Sincerely,

Tyler snorted as he read the scrawling signature at the end of the letter. He was furious just reading words of the letter, much less thinking about all the things that were implied. How did they know about the fight? He hadn't sent in a report on it because he had not suspended anyone from the corps. According to the general corps rulebook, a report only had to be filed if members were suspended.

"So, what's this about a female being involved?" Paul asked, picking up Tyler's letter. "Is Laura still hidden treasure to The Knights? How did they know it was about a girl?"

"Someone told them," Peter said, pounding his fist on the table. "Someone in the corps wrote a letter to headquarters and told them about the fight. They either mentioned Laura herself or just said it was about a girl. If headquarters found out there is a girl in the corps, they would be here in person, firing our-"

"Peter, come on," Tyler said, interrupting the marching director. "This is a family place; there's a kid right over there. What if he heard you?"

Peter shrugged, but shut his mouth.

"You're saying that, if they did know about Laura, they wouldn't go on like this? They would just say that our funding was cut and we were fired?" Paul read the letter again. He had not gotten one exactly like Tyler and Peter did; his letter was more of a warning to keep doing his job and do nothing but a good job or be fired by the corporation.

"I don't know," Tyler answered, putting his head in his hands, elbows resting on the table. "I don't know what they would do. If they know about Laura and are just taunting us, waiting for us to do the right thing and turn ourselves in, we're done for. If they don't know, we're still safe."

"Sounds like everyone is in real trouble here," Paul said, shaking his head as he folded Tyler's letter and looked at Peter's letter. It read the same way, except the names were switched where it was necessary. "Who do you think contacted headquarters?"

"Thomas."

Paul and Tyler looked up at Peter, who was starting at the shadows under the table as if they were giving him the name themselves.

"Why Thomas?" Tyler asked, slightly shocked. "Thomas loves this corps!"

"Exactly," Peter answered, his voice calm and cool as Tyler's voice rose.

"What do you mean, 'exactly'?"

"Thomas loves the corps enough to destroy it. If it isn't going to be a pure corps experience anymore, that things are changing drastically and the corps is not going to be the same, Thomas is the sort of person to destroy it than see it damaged."

"Where would he go, though, if The Knights was to disband? How could he live with himself?"

"Thomas has a cold heart."

Tyler raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes.

"Honestly, you don't mean to draw me in with that poetic nonsense, Peter, do you? It's not going to work. You can't convince me that, because Thomas has a cold heart and hates change, he's going to try and turn us in and get them to find Laura out! I can't believe that bull-"

"Language, Tyler," Paul gently reminded, spying a small boy in the corner of the diner, eating with his parents, swinging his legs under the table. "Remember?"

"Well, who do you think it is?"

"It's not Thomas," Tyler answered Peter's question venomously. "Thomas is too good of a leader to do that. He's not going to throw himself out of the drum major position, anyway. If he has a cold heart, like you say, he would keep the drum major position first on the list of things he wouldn't want destroyed. That's the way a cold heart works."

"I don't know the boys very well besides my color guard," Paul piped in, keeping his voice low as not to aggravate Peter into the same condition Tyler was in at the moment, "But, who's that boy in the battery? The drum line? He was Second Snare last year."

"Andrew is First Snare this year and the section leader; he's nasty, but a good leader. He likes playing too much to ruin a season just as it's starting. He couldn't join another corps at this point. He wouldn't screw himself out of a season."

"I agree," Tyler spoke up, adding to Peter's comment. "I mean, he's not out of the picture in terms of who would do this, but he's a section leader, something that takes a long time to reach in a corps. He might have written the letter to headquarters, but I don't think so, for some reason."

"Well, who else was involved in the brawl about Laura?"

Tyler and Peter thought a moment before Tyler blurted a name.

"Matt. The First Soprano Trumpet! He's a section leader, too, but he doesn't seem to like the corps as much as he seems to like being in command. As far as I know, he's not looking at joining any other corps and he's basically in the running for First Soprano Trumpet again next year, and the year after that, until he ages out."

"Hey, isn't that the same kid who nearly attacked Thomas for drum major position the other year?" Paul asked, remembering the incident that caused a bloody parking lot fight. "Thomas nearly needed stitches. Why is he still accepted in the corps?"

"He's not, really," Peter answered, his stomach growling. "He and Andrew hang around together, and they both have their own group of nasty kids who follow them, but Matt isn't popular with the rest of the corps. Tyler and I were considering banning him from The Knights, but we figured he was a person who could learn and grow from being in the corps. We gave him more more chance."

"Bad idea," Tyler said, sipping his ice water, sounding much like Peter and his usual sarcasm.

"Matt is a possibility. Andrew is a possibility. Thomas is a possibility. Who else?"

"I can't think of anyone else involved in the big Laura battle-"

Tyler stopped mid sip of his water and nearly chocked. Paul patted Tyler on the back and wiped up the water with his napkin while Peter raised an eyebrow, never looking up from the shadows under the table that had caught his attention.

"Jon."

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The three directors sat in silence, much like they had after they ordered, as their usual meal came to the table. The waitress smiled and each of them threw in a dollar, like usual. Everything was usual with them at this diner, this one place in the world where nothing would ever change if they didn't purposely change it. They didn't have a corps to direct when they were together, eating, enjoying the company. Tonight, though, instead of figuring problems out and correcting them, bigger problems had come up.

They had a list of people who had tried to turn in their corps and potentially destroy it:

Thomas, the drum major with the cold heart.

Andrew, the percussionist with a season on the line.

Matt, the section leader with hardly anything to lose.

Jon, the trumpet player with an obsession.

These were the only people who could possibly have a motive to put the corps in danger. Jon was put on the list simply because of his connection with Laura. To protect her, he might just try and destroy the corps, no matter what he himself loved.

If you love something more than anything else, you'll do everything to prevent it breaking.

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As the directors stood outside the door to the diner, the night sky blue and the air chill, Paul felt a snowflake fall and melt on his nose. He was hesitant to wipe it off because it formed such an interesting puddle. After getting a quirky look from the marching director, Paul obliged and wiped the water from his face, hoping for another snowflake very childishly. Tyler moved out of the way of the door as a family also left the diner, the parents saying a goodnight to the three men and telling their son to hurry behind them. The directors watched the little boy salute them and march to the family car, rolling his heels. None of them knew if he was playing at being a solider or a Knight.

Paul had to smile when he saw the little boy catch a snowflake on his face and watch the puddle form with wide eyes, his father wiping the water off before hoisting him into the car. Tyler waved back as the little boy shook his hand at them from behind the car window, a smile on the tiny face. Peter turned away and walked silently to his own vehicle, letting the wind and the falling snow carry that little boy away from his mind.

They all wondered if The Knights were going to be around for that little boy to find by the time he grew up.

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There we are! What a sad chapter, I think. I'm not sure if it's as good as the other chapters I've done; I like to keep the director's dinners for finding out issues to talk about and figure out when the corps chapters come up. Thanks so much for reading and please tell me what you think! Thanks!