On the other side of town, Wyatt and Rufus found the brownstone building in which this Frederica Loss had lived with her sons. Rufus stared up at the decaying building. "What are we going to do?" he asked. "Knock on the door and ask if their mother was murdered by guys in black suits?"

"Sounds like a good start," Wyatt admitted, knocking on the old door.

Rufus shook his head. "I'm getting major Jack the Ripper vibes here."

Wyatt eyed Rufus, shifting uncomfortably. He hoped that wasn't the case. His eyes darted back to the door as it opened up with difficulty.

Creaking open and falling at an angle once it was opened, Wyatt and Rufus were staring face to face with a young man no older than sixteen. "Yes? May I help you?"

"I'm sorry to bother you," Wyatt began. "Are you the son of Frederica Loss?"

"I am," the boy replied, gripping the old door tightly.

Wyatt saw the boy's fingers turning white as the grip intensified. "We were hoping to speak to you about what happened with your mother."

"She died six years ago," the boy muttered. "What is this about?"

Wyatt took a step forward. "Mind if we come inside?"

The boy's brown eyes darted between the two before eventually, he moved to the side and allowed them both access into the house.

The boy struggled to close the door. Once he got it shut, he motioned to the back of the house. "Please, this way."

Following him through the narrow hallway, the two found themselves inside a modest kitchen. The boy asked, "Would you like some water?"

Rufus spotted the brownish colored water in the pitcher that sat on the small table. He shook his head. "We're good."

The boy's brows knitted in confusion of the phrase but said nothing. "You wanted to know about my mother's death?"

Wyatt nodded. "What can you tell us about that night?"

The boy swallowed nervously. "She came home late one night and we thought she was an intruder...so...I shot her."

"You shot her?" Wyatt asked. The boy nodded. "With what gun?"

The boy's eyes darted between the two nervously. "I...I got rid of it."

"You said 'we thought'," Rufus repeated. "Who's we?"

The boy took a step back. "Look, they told us if we told the truth we'd be next."

"Who?" Wyatt asked quietly. "The men in black?" The boy's expression told them everything they needed to know. Wyatt said, "We can protect you. Whatever it is, we're here to stop them."

"I can't," the boy said. "I can't die...I have to take care of my brothers."

Rufus saw movement at the hallway entrance and turned to look. Standing at the bottom of the stairs that led to the bedrooms was a young boy around five years of age. Another young face peeked through the stairwell banister - a boy no older than three.

"Please," Wyatt begged. "It's important."

"I'm sorry," the boy replied. "I am...but I can't-"

Rufus asked, "Don't you want your family to live the rest of their lives in peace?" He turned his gaze back to the older boy. "You can't live in fear-"

"I have no choice," the kid stated, fear rising in his voice. "Please, leave."

Wyatt scoffed. He shook his head as he turned his attention to Rufus. Rufus shrugged as they exited the house. The moment the boy had slammed the old difficult door closed, Rufus turned to Wyatt. "Now what?"

"I don't know," Wyatt started to say. He heard the sounds of someone clearing their throat, trying to get their attention. He glanced over his shoulder and saw an old man, hunched over with a grimy wet blanket draped over his back and head. He was waving them over.

As they approached, the man asked quietly, "You're asking about Frederica?"

"You knew her?" Wyatt asked. The elderly man nodded. "What can you tell us?"

He motioned for them to follow him. The two found themselves being led deeper into the alleys of the ghetto. The old man stopped and faced them. He whispered, "They came late one night."

"Who?" Rufus asked.

"The men in black," the old man replied. "They broke the front door down to get to her." Wyatt and Rufus exchanged worried glances. The old man wiped a tear from his wrinkled cheek as he continued, "She didn't have a chance to defend herself...they killed her with guns I've never seen before."

"But why?" Rufus asked. "What did she know that they didn't want her to tell?"

"She knew what happened to Mary...why they had killed her," the old man said.

Wyatt pleaded, "Please, tell us what you know..."

The old man coughed into his blanket. Rufus spotted blood lining the moldy blanket and cringed. The old man replied, "Mary was pregnant when she died...it's why she died."

"And Frederica knew this?" Wyatt pushed.

The old man nodded. "She recognized the doctor."

"Who?" Rufus asked, growing impatient. The tension was becoming more than he could bear.

Before the old man could answer, the sound of automatic guns being fired echoed around them. The bullets ricocheting off the alley walls caused them to flinch and take cover.

Wyatt crouched behind some old crates, grabbing his gun and popping out to fire off a couple of rounds.

Rufus held the old man in his arms as they hunkered down behind a side street. Blood seeped out of the man's mouth. Rufus moved the blanket to the side and saw the bullet wound in the man's stomach, blood soaking through his shirt quickly.

Rufus turned his gaze back to the man's tired eyes. "Please, sir...who was the doctor?"

The words were barely heard over the gunfight. "Rey...nolds..." The moment the word left his mouth, Rufus watched as the life fled his eyes.

Rufus sat on the wet ground, holding the old man tightly in his arms. He realized the gunfight was over and forced himself to look up at Wyatt, blinking back the tears.

Wyatt saw the dead man and sighed heavily. "Damn it."

Rufus asked, "Where did they go?"

"They left," Wyatt stated. "There were too many for me to give chase, so I'm not complaining."

Rufus nodded aimlessly. Wyatt noticed his expression and asked, "Are you all right?" Rufus nodded again. "We have to get back to the others."

When the door to Poe's house opened, the three inside whirled around just in time to see Rufus and Wyatt entering. Their expressions were glum.

"What happened?" Lucy asked, standing up, dumping the papers onto the puffed seat.

"Things just got a bit more complicated," Wyatt stated.

Flynn's eyes darted between the two. He spotted blood on Rufus's clothes. His eyes twitched as he motioned toward the stain. "Are you-"

"It's not my blood," Rufus interjected, after glancing down at his borrow shirt.

Edgar Allan Poe stepped around the desk. "What news do you have?"

"Turns out there's a lot more going on here than we thought," Wyatt stated. "I think you're right...These Bloodstone men are responsible for everything."

Rufus cleared his throat. "Frederica's sons didn't want to talk to us, understandably since they were being watched-"

Wyatt cut him off, knowing that he tends to ramble when stressed. "There was an old man living on the street who told us that he overheard the conversation the night she was killed."

"Overheard?" Flynn repeated.

Poe waved the remark to the side, unsurprised. "The walls are like paper. It's how I knew you were approaching the house when you first arrived." He turned his gaze back to Wyatt, placing his hands on his hips. "What did this man say?"

Wyatt sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Apparently, Bloodstone broke down Frederica's door to kill her because she knew Mary's killer, and not only that, but he said Mary was pregnant when she died - that it was why she died."

"And that's why her confession changed?" Lucy asked.

Wyatt nodded. "She did it to protect her sons."

Flynn crossed his arms. "Did she say who it was?"

"A doctor," Rufus replied. "By the name of Reynolds."

Lucy and Flynn exchanged worried glances. Lucy's face paled. Poe noticed the sudden shift in energy within the room. His eyes darted around the team before asking, "Who is Reynolds?"

Lucy sighed, pinching the bridge to her nose. "We don't know..."

"But you've heard the name before?" Poe asked.

"The first time we heard about the name, you warned us of him," Flynn blurted out. "Then someone else warned us..."

"I don't recall having warned you-" Poe started, trying to recall the moment in question.

Lucy sighed. "That's the name you mentioned before dying..."

"Is he a member of Bloodstone, then?" Poe questioned, blinking at Lucy's remark. "Is that who kills me?"

Lucy shifted in her place. "We don't know what happens to you...it's ... very strange."

Poe nodded slowly as he let her words sink into his head. He shook his head, deciding not to ask more on the matter. He turned and reached for his coat on the rack in the corner. As he started to pull it on, he stated, "I am going to take a stroll."

"What?" Rufus asked expression confused. "Now? Are you sure that's a wise idea?"

Poe straightened his coat collar. "If we are to determine who this 'Reynolds' is, I have a few inquiries to make." He headed for his door. "I shall return."

Before the team could stop him, he closed the door upon his exit of the cluttered and dusty home.

"Should one of us go with him?" Rufus asked, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.

Lucy shook her head. "I think we'd end up bringing more attention to him." She sighed, motioning to the clutter of papers strewn about. "In the meantime, we could keep trying to figure out what happened here."

Flynn's lips twisted in thought. Something didn't sit well with the direction of everything. With crossed arms, he brought his thumb to his lips, tapping them as he considered his options.

He had a nagging feeling that Poe was getting close to discovering the truth and letting the poet out of their sights would result in tragic endings. He also knew that Lucy was right - if they all headed out with him, they would lead Bloodstone straight to him.

Finally, Flynn decided that it was more important to make sure that Poe would survive this encounter. It was clear the way that the poet left, that he had some idea as to who to ask about Reynolds. Flynn knew how dangerous that name was and knew he had to help - too much rode on the discovery of the man's identity.

Dropping his hands back to his sides, he marched across the cluttered room to the door. "Where are you going?" Rufus asked.

"I'll be back," Flynn said quickly before slipping through the open door.

"Where's the Terminator going?" Rufus asked. Wyatt shrugged before turning back to the papers before him.

Flynn walked briskly through the cold and crowded streets of Baltimore. With his longer stride, he managed to catch up to Poe relatively quickly but maintained a comfortable distance so as not to attract that unwanted attention Lucy warned them about.

Poe seemed oblivious to Flynn's following. He navigated through the streets with ease and didn't seem to have a care in the world as he passed by shops and beggars.

Finally, Flynn stopped as Poe entered a brick building. The sign hanging over the door read, 'The Lone Eagle'. Flynn exhaled, shaking his head. He hoped that Poe wasn't going inside to drink.

He crossed the busy cobblestone street and reached for the handle of the red-painted door to the tavern. He pushed it open and entered. His eyes scanned the occupants. There were over twelve crammed into the building, none had lifted their eyes to look over at his entry.

He slipped into the corner of the room and scanned the crowds. His eyes caught the familiar black tufts of hair opposite the room from him. Poe had sat down across from another figure on the other end that he couldn't quite make out. They seemed to be in deep discussions.

He watched their body language as they spoke. None of it seemed hostile. Poe eventually reached forward and shook his friend's hand. He gave a curt nod before turning and walking toward the door. Flynn waited and noticed that Poe hadn't seen him.

Once the poet left, Flynn got up and followed him back into the cold world. He glanced over his shoulder and spotted Poe making his way back toward his house. Flynn followed.

Halfway back to Poe's house, Flynn spotted two figures lurking around the massive oak trees that lined the road. He quickened his pace. Just as Flynn started to catch up, the two figures jumped out from their hiding places. Flynn spotted the clubs in their hands as they hit Poe across the back and legs, knocking him to the dirt road.

Flynn sprinted into action without hesitation. He grabbed one of the men's clubs, yanking it from their grip. He smacked the unarmed man across the face with the club. The other man whirled around, prepared to attack Flynn. Flynn removed his gun and fired a single round into the man's chest, watching the lifeless body slump down next to Poe.

Flynn glanced down at the unconscious man by his feet. He wanted to fire a round into that man's chest as well but decided against it. He needed answers. He turned his gaze to Poe. "Are you all right?"

Poe groaned as he picked himself up. "Bloody bastards." He brushed himself off before turning his gaze up to Flynn. "Thank you for your timely rescue." Flynn nodded, acknowledging his remark. Poe's brows knitted together as he asked, "Did you follow me?"

Flynn nodded. "I was concerned for your well-being."

"Quite right," Poe admitted. "I guess your instincts were correct."

Flynn bent down to examine the man he struck with the club. "Do you have a garden shed or a barn we can take him to?"

Poe nodded. "A small potting shed, would that do?"

"That'll work," Flynn said. He motioned for Poe's help and the two carried the unconscious man back.

The team waited outside the potting shed for the man to return to consciousness. "Is he Bloodstone?" Rufus asked. Flynn gave Rufus that look - the one that showed that he couldn't believe he was asking such an obvious question. Rufus saw it and nodded. "Right, of course, he is."

"What's the plan here?" Wyatt hissed under his breath, afraid the Suit was listening. "Are you going to just ask him about Reynolds?"

Flynn shrugged. "Might as well."

Wyatt scoffed, tossing his hands up in the air. He knew it couldn't be that simple. There was no way that this man would give them the answers they wanted. They had run into Bloodstone men before and none of them were exactly keen on sharing their diabolical plans.

Poe blinked at Wyatt. "How do you know he won't give you answers unless you ask them?"

The Bloodstone man started to stir, groaning as he came to consciousness. He lifted his head and saw the team staring back. He bucked against his binds. "You might as well kill me now," he spat. "I won't tell you a word!"

"Who said anything about talking?" Flynn asked. Everyone seemed shocked by his words, except for Poe. Lucy hoped he was bluffing.

The Suit asked, "What do you want with me?"

The team looked at Flynn, wondering what his plan with this man was going to be. Flynn took a step forward, opening his mouth to speak but he never got the chance.

"You are going to be the instrument for our message to your boss," Poe stated. He began to undo the buttons on his jacket.

"What message?" the man asked, eyeing the poet.

Shrugging out of the coat, Poe stated, "That we're not to be trifled with any longer." He gently laid his coat across the back of an old iron chair.

The man laughed. "There's nothing you could do to get me to talk."

Poe picked up an old rusted hacksaw from the shed. He gave it a quick glance. "I'm sure that you're familiar with my story, 'The Pit And The Pendulum'? It's based on a true story."

The man tilted his head. "Sorry, not much of a reader-"

"Pity," Poe sighed. "Allow me to elaborate..." He ran his finger across the rusty teeth of the saw as he quoted, "Still I quivered in every nerve to think how slight a sinking of the machinery would precipitate that keen, glistening axe upon my bosom." He paused to bring the blade to the Suit's chest, running it over the clothes. A button popped off as he continued quoting, "It was hope that prompted the nerve to quiver - the frame to shrink. It was hope - the hope that triumphs on the rack..." He sawed through the Suit's coat, the fibers snapping open, causing the man to squirm in his chair, eyes wide with fear. Poe continued, "That whispers to the death-condemned even in the dungeons of the Inquisition."

"You're crazy!" the Suit said, struggling against his binds. "You're all crazy!"

"Why did you kill Mary?" Poe asked, pushing the saw deeper into the coat. When the Suit didn't answer, Poe pulled the saw across the man's shirt, exposing his chest as the clothes were completely sawed away.

"Okay! Okay!" the man shouted, panic-stricken. "She was pregnant, all right? We tried to get rid of it-"

"Why?" Poe asked. The man shook his head, unsure if he should continue. Poe dragged the blade across his chest, leaving behind a bloody trail against his flesh. The man cried out. The team exchanged horrified glances. Wyatt took a step forward to put a stop to this.

"It was Reynold's child!" he screamed. "Please! Stop!" Wyatt halted in his tracks after the admission.

Flynn scoffed. "You don't handle torture well-"

"He'll kill me anyway," the man stated, voice trembling with fear. "It doesn't matter if I keep it secret or not."

"Who is Reynolds?" Wyatt asked. "What does he want?"

"Total world domination," the Suit stated. "He wants to rule the world by his means."

"By kidnapping people in history?" Lucy asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

The man shook his head. "I don't know."

"Who is Reynolds? What does he look like? How do we find him?" Wyatt asked.

The man shrugged. "I've only caught glimpses of him."

"And?" Wyatt pushed.

The man closed his mouth, withdrawing. Poe pushed the saw into his chest again. "Okay! Okay! Stop!" the man shouted. He took a shaky breath and said, "He's got an accent..."

"Accent?" Flynn asked, raising an eyebrow.

The man nodded. "Yeah...I don't know from where though-"

"Where can we find him?" Wyatt asked again.

Before the man could reply, a bullet blew through the man's skull, splattering bright red blood against the shed's wall. The second the bullet penetrated the man's skull, the sound of the shot echoed around them.

"Sniper!" Wyatt shouted as he lunged for Lucy, pulling her into his arms. He covered her with his body as he shielded her from harm, dragging her behind the shed.

Rufus ducked into cover behind a giant oak tree. Flynn grabbed the back of Poe's shirt collar, dragging him behind the next nearest oak tree. He took his gun out, prepared for battle. They listened for the next shot. It never came. The world had grown silent.

"Is he gone?" Rufus asked back pressed hard against the tree.

Flynn's eyes met Wyatt's. He tensed his jaw as he took a careful step forward. Wyatt shouted at him, "What are you doing? Flynn! Get back!"

Flynn stepped out from behind the tree. Cautiously, he glanced about the area, then extended his vision to the distance. He knew if the sniper remained to take them all down, he would have been shot and killed by now.

Flynn inhaled deeply. "I think he's gone."

They slowly emerged from their hiding place, glancing over at the dead Suit. Wyatt glared at Flynn for his irresponsible behavior. Poe asked, "What do we do now?"

"You should probably stop digging into this murder," Wyatt suggested. "And we should probably get back-"

Poe shook his head. "I'm not going to stop searching for the truth. I do not fear them."

"Maybe you should," Rufus muttered.

Poe asked, "Where will you go now? How do I tell you about my findings?"

Lucy thought for a moment. "Write about them...we'll read them."

Poe nodded once. "I will," he said. After a moment, he asked, "Any word on my wife?" He saw the exchange of varied expressions and nodded. "I suspected as much."

"I'm so sorry," Lucy said.

Poe averted his gaze. "Another reason to continue exposing them for what they are."

"Good luck," Rufus said with a nod.

Poe watched the team walking down the lane until he could no longer see them along the horizon.