Special thanks to ancientmaverick for beta reading! Thank you very much! All remaining mistakes are my own.

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Warning: mentions of suicidal thoughts and reference to religious themes

CONNECTED THROUGH FAMILY II

Sat, Sept 26 - 12:00 - FBI Office, Los Angeles

David watched through the glass of the observation room. It seemed to be his main contribution to this case, forced to remain at the sidelines.

An old man with balding hair and pale skin sat sunken but somehow proud in the interrogation room. He had his lawyer with him.

DA Howard Meeks sat opposite at the table with his business suit and straight back. Agent Paul stalked through the room as if hunting a lion.

"You have already stated that you've been providing Joe Flynn with information regarding his case. Is this correct?"

"Yes, it is."

"Why? Why would you do that? You lost your partner to this man!" Agent Paul's words echoed what everyone in the observation room had been thinking. Narrowing her eyes, she towered menacingly over the sitting man. Her whole body reflected danger. David didn't need to look to Colby or Nikki next to him to see the tension repeated in them. They would gladly do the same as Agent Paul.

"Fear."

"Fear? Fear of what?"

"I feared for my life, and then I feared everyone's reactions. I was afraid of this exact conversation, the disappointment and anger." Miller interlaced his fingers and pressed them together.

Howard Meeks took a deep breath. "What was the payment you received for your information?"

Miller shook his head. "My life. That was the deal. My life for my cooperation."

"You have had round-the-clock protection." Agent Paul wouldn't let an argument like that stand. "You were never in any danger."

"Really? Just how then did Agent Eppes ended up running for his life after the safe house was compromised?"

Agent Paul leaned back as if she had been slapped.

DA Meeks asked his own question before the interrogation turned even more personal. "How long have you been feeding information to Joe Flynn."

"Since March 26," Miller answered.

The day Don had been abducted. The day Martin Ward, Richard Miller's partner, had been murdered.

A moment of silence captured the interrogation room. DA Meeks appeared to be thinking while Agent Paul didn't know how to express her anger with words. In truth, her body language was already enough.

"Then tell me what happened the night of the 26th of March."

"It started before that, when we searched Matthew Flynn's dorm room. After we found the drugs, we arrested Matthew Flynn and sent the report to Brooks. But Matthew's roommate showed up, told us the drugs belonged to him. Martin didn't want to change the report, said that we could get Matthew to turn against his father. I followed his lead."

DA Meeks and Agent Paul shared a look. This part was new.

"And then Matthew was killed in jail," Paul finished as Miller kept silent.

"Yes. We knew that Joe Flynn would want revenge, but none of us could have foreseen that much rage."

"What happened?"

"Flynn's men grabbed me two streets down from my house after the argument with my wife. They drove me to the old empty warehouse-"

"You were there?" Paul hit the table with her hands so violently that everybody jumped. It had to hurt, but David only saw anger on her face.

Miller flinched, but continued on. "Yes, and after a while another van appeared. They opened the door and -" He paused, "I will never forget it. They threw Martin out like he was garbage. His arms and legs flailed like a rag doll. I knew that he was dead, but I still scrambled towards him to catch him. To protect his head, you know." He closed his eyes.

As David tried to imagine the situation, he felt Colby's gaze on his back. This was the nightmare of every agent.

"I didn't know why they hadn't killed me yet, but I knew that I was a dead man. I had never been more afraid in my whole life. I didn't want to die."

David watched the interrogation, but it was like he could see the warehouse, feel Miller's desperation. It was a failure to correct a report; it shouldn't come with a death sentence.

"After a while, another van drove through the door. Flynn himself appeared and started to argue with the men who brought him. Flynn had apparently been in one of the back rooms."

"Who brought who?"

"Two men brought Don Eppes. I didn't recognize him at first, but then ... he seemed drugged and totally out of it. He knelt on the ground but favored his left side and ... he just didn't seem with it."

Agent Miller's voice had become even more soft. "Then Joe Flynn came to me. He told me that I would have to die because I had seen too much. He'd already killed one federal agent, another didn't matter."

Agent Paul leaned against the glass and crossed her arms. David didn't need to read her body language because he felt the same: the odd mix of anger at Agent Miller and compassion for him.

"I was willing to beg, and I did. I always imagined that my death would be heroic, but then and there I begged on my knees for my life."

David looked away as he saw a little tear in Agent Miller's eye.

Miller took a deep breath. "He left, talked to the men with Agent Eppes and returned. He asked me if I really would do anything to save my life. I said yes. I thought that he wanted me to kill someone, and I didn't know if I could follow through.

"But he didn't want anything like that. He just wanted me to change Agent Eppes' fingerprints."

It made sense. The situation, the time frame, the reasons for changing the fingerprints. It all made horrible sense.

"And in that moment, I started a long journey of fear. I was afraid that I would be discovered for falsifying the report. I was afraid for my life, for my family, for everything. I used Martin's credentials and changed the fingerprints. I wanted to look good in case Flynn killed me.

"But he didn't kill me, he offered me a deal: my life for my cooperation."

Meeks cleared his throat. "What else did he ask of you?"

"It was an easy deal. I would live as long as no agent ever got near is operation. If I didn't warn him about raids, he would make sure that I went down with him." Miller paused. "In that moment, on the floor of that warehouse with dirt on my knees, I agreed." He looked up to Meeks and turned his head to look at Agent Paul. "I would have agreed to anything to save my life."

David knew that no one could anticipate how they would react in a situation like that. Still…

"But fear was my new adviser. I feared my co-workers, my wife, my shadow. I asked them to drop me off next to the bar to have a plausible lie, and from then it only got worse.

"I lied, I called Flynn to give him warnings about raids, I kept him up to date about your investigation, about the investigation of Martin's death. I gave him everything he asked for. Out of fear; always out of fear."

"Can you give us a list of what you have told Flynn?"

Miller shook his head. "I can tell you what I remember, but I tried to forget..." He shrugged. "I always told myself that I was just saving my life and that I have a right to save my own life."

"So why are you here then? What is your plan by coming forward now? I can tell you that we never suspected you. No money transfer, no sudden riches, no motive, genuine grief at the loss of your partner." Paul listed all the things that David too had believed.

Miller opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"What changed?" DA Meeks tried again with more compassion. "Why are you telling us all of this?"

"After the raid at the warehouse, the deaths of Stu Hall and Daniel Holland, there was a new weight on my conscience. I had always told myself that I hadn't hurt anybody, that I was still one of the good guys. But now my actions lead to the deaths of two men."

"Bad men," Paul threw in.

"I know," Miller looked up to her, "but still people. I knew that I needed to end my cooperation with Flynn. There was no way around it. But I didn't know how, so I chose the coward's way out."

Meeks understood what he wanted to say. "You wanted to commit suicide?"

"Yes. I took my gun, wrote a short note, not enough for a confession, mind you, just some random note about Martin's death, and I drove to an abandoned parking lot."

David couldn't hear the term parking lot anymore. Everything always happened in a parking lot. What happened to the houses, parks, and streets?

"I was trying to work up the courage to take the shot when someone knocked on my window."

David glanced to his team. They all were glad that the startling hadn't led to a reflex shot, or they would have never had hope for a new way to get Flynn.

"And?" Meeks prompted.

"After the initial shock, I rolled down the window and tried to defend myself. But the man didn't care. You know what he said? 'After you're dead, you won't need the car anymore. Can't you just shoot yourself out here and donate the car to me? It's a nice ride.'" Miller shook his head laughing.

"What's there to laugh at?" Paul spat.

Still smiling, Miller explained, "It was so absurd. There I was, sitting in my car, trying to commit suicide because I feared Flynn so much. I helped him in order to save my life, and now I wanted to take it myself. I couldn't even let Flynn do the work."

"And that's the reason you decided to come forward."

"No," Miller shook his head. "I still couldn't. I would rather have died than face my fears and you. So I looked around, trying to find another solution."

He paused and relaxed.

"Did you find it?"

With a smile, he nodded. "I found a greater power than my fear. I found God, or rather he found me."

Paul snorted. "Yeah, yeah. You found Jesus, and now you're a new man. Let's forget everything else you've done. Now everything is fine."

"No, nothing has changed except my boss. The last six months, my boss has been my fear: fear of rejection, fear of punishment, fear of betrayal.

"But now I serve a new power, the power of God, the power of love."

"Agent Miller," Agent Paul suddenly interrupted, "I don't care for your life story. I care about my case and how to bring Flynn down."

"Agent Paul," Meeks warned, "I'd like to know the motivation behind a confession. It also protects us from a false lead." He stared at her until she relented and returned to her watchful post.

"As I looked around, I saw a church and went in." He gave a little shrug as he looked down. "I never really believed in an invisible friend, but I thought I'd might find advice there. But nobody was there, and so I started to read the Bible. I guess I thought it might help."

Miller relaxed his fingers again. The backs of his hands had small crescents from his fingernails. "There was this one story about a man trying to serve two masters. But he failed because you can't. This man was like me. I tried to serve two masters, my conscience and duty, and Joe Flynn. But I couldn't serve both, so in reality I had lied to myself. Whatever I'd been telling myself, I was working for Flynn.

"But I was trapped in my fear. I wasn't strong enough to withstand him. I wasn't even strong enough to tell my own wife what I've been become."

Meeks leaned back. "Now you're here."

Miller nodded. He took a sip of his water. "I thought, if there is a power greater than my fear, even greater than death, then this could be my ticket out. So I started to pray, just talking really, and suddenly I got it. I needed to start listening to my conscience again."

Miller snorted and looked down on his hands. "I didn't need to read much of the Bible to know what that entails. I needed to do the right thing by trusting my new-found boss. I needed to trust that he was the highest power and nothing could come between me and this power."

"And this changed what exactly?" Agent Paul asked sharply.

"Everything." Miller answered with a bright smile. "I knew it the moment Flynn called. Every single time before, I had felt the fear. I feared what he would ask and what I would do. But not this time; this time, I knew that it didn't matter what he would do or threaten to do because I had chosen a new master, and he had promised me freedom."

"So you told him to ..." Paul moved her hand in a request to finished the sentence.

"I didn't take the call. I ignored him. I didn't fear the thought of confession anymore. I was free, and I was not alone anymore. I was free, free to come forward and apologize, because I didn't have to fear your reaction anymore. I know what I did, and I repent, I am sorry, and I will carry whatever punishment it deserves."

"Why didn't you just simply decide to stop helping him? We would have never suspected you."

David wondered that as well.

"It's easy to see the right thing when you're not paralyzed by fear. I needed to apologize, try to repair the damage, stop the source of more hurt, defend the poor and weary. I know Joe Flynn has to be stopped, because he can't stop himself anymore."

"So, in conclusion: no deeper plan, no new threat from Joe Flynn. Just your new-found religion made you come forward." Agent Paul didn't need her face to express what she thought about this, her voice was enough. "Okay, fine. Now, how do we stop Flynn now?"

"I've already told you: I witnessed Joe Flynn orchestrating everything that night in the warehouse. I don't know exactly what he had planned to do, but he hadn't been prepared for a dead man. He looked even sicker than I felt when he realized that Martin was dead. He hadn't been pleased about it."

"What else?"

"Someone else was helping him..."

David stood like a statue next to the mirror in the observation room. Colby and Nikki quivered with anger, but Liz had the same stony expression on her face that he did. Agent Miller may have found God, but he brought them the miracle they needed. Enough proof to nail Joe Flynn.

David wasn't a praying man. But a thank you seemed appropriate. Maybe Don wasn't so wrong with his quest for more. David hoped that Don would take on his journey again after he had healed. Maybe he could tell David what he discovered.

Sat, 26 Sept - 22:00 - Flynn's House, Los Angeles

"I'll be going now." Randall stood with a little bag in the entrance. He stood in stark contrast to the ritzy neighborhood.

Flynn nodded without turning around. He sat in front of his clear pool.

"Do you really not ... I can arrange ..."

"No." He spoke quietly, but with such force that Randall quit his attempts to persuade him to leave the city with him.

"Are you really sure? Don't worry about the FBI, they can't stop you."

This time Flynn turned around. "But I want to be around for my triumph."

Randall swallowed hard. "We will not get to Eppes."

Flynn smiled. "I may lose the war, but I will get the last word."

Nodding, Randall turned to the door. "I miss the little Mister Flynn as badly as you do, you know. I hope you find what you're looking for." With that, he closed the door behind him.

Joe Flynn was sure that he would be fine. Randall was the type of guy to have a backup plan and enough money and friends to start anew.

It was hard on the old bones to stand back up. He took a last slow walk around the house. Going into the master bedroom where he could still smell the perfume of his wife. He wandered further to the room Matthew had lived in before he went off to college. If he had never left, nothing like this would have happened.

He removed the dust from his desk and stared at the pictures around the room. He saw the photographs from his birthdays, family and friends. Fighting against the memories of the last time he had seen his son, in the morgue. He hadn't even been able to identify him by looking at his face. It had been unrecognizable. They couldn't even use dental records and had to rely on a DNA match.

Pressing his balled fist against his mouth, he swallowed the sob in his throat.

Tomorrow, this room would be violated again by the FBI, but Joe wouldn't let them take his victory.

He went in the big living room and lit a fire in the fireplace. It was neither necessary nor good for the heat. He did it because he could.

It all went downhill when Don Eppes never arrived at the meeting point. He had been waiting and waiting. With Randall or the money, whatever would work, he intended to finally achieve closure by dealing with the man who had destroyed his life by not dying.

He had gone from anger, to fury, to worry, and at last resignation.

The whole day he had tried to call DEA Agent Miller, but he had never taken the call.

Joe Flynn knew that this couldn't mean anything good.

But a small smile tugged at his lips as he imagined how his enemies would look and talk after he had explained everything. It already filled him with pleasure trying to imagine the pain and sorrow after they found out just whose fingerprints had prevented Don Eppes from being identified.

He would go to jail. But he would go with the sweet victory of delivering a final blow.

TBC