Early the next morning, Dylan drove out to meet the ferry to the
orphanage. Last night, after the Thin Man left, Nat, Alex and Dylan
had sat down at the conference table to sort out their leads.
The FBI had come through and Alex decided that she'd start
tracking down where the dead men lived and who'd they'd worked
for; Nat would help Alex and continue her leads into the wire fraud
and corporate front of the smuggling ring.
It was decided that Dylan would find out more about the Thin Man's
involvement in this operation. They needed to know if he was just a
hired hand or if he was part of some larger power play.
But they were at a complete disadvantage, since they knew next to
nothing about the Thin Man. Dylan figured she could find out from the
mother superior the names of the cops' who'd found him. And also get
whatever files the nuns had on him; whether official or just orphanage
stuff.
Max, of course, got into the act; he wanted to hang out at
the Coal Bowl to see if the Thin Man would race again. "I could ask
people around there if they've seen him before, I'm sure people've
seen him. Make it seem like I want to challenge him or somethin'."
The angels looked at each other. "Well, ok; let's clear it with your
brothers' first though," Nat hedged.
"Great, and can you guys advance me two grand for the pot?" "NO!!"
She boarded the ferry to the orphanage and took a seat. She reached
into her jacket and pulled out the baggie that held the necklace. It
was really quite stunning, and not as stereotypically medieval as she
had previously thought of magical talismans. If that's what it really
was. No, it was wonderfully modern in an art nouveau way. The sleek
head and tail glinted in the sun and the apple was darling enough to
eat, being more realistically detailed than the abstracted snake.
Not wanting to get the chain snarled up, she undid the clasp and put
it around her neck. The metal was smooth and cool on her skin as she
looked down at the necklace. She rather liked it and tucked it into
her t-shirt.
The mother superior was friendly and gracious as ever and waved away
apologies for being disturbed. "It's nothing, really! Please make
yourself comfortable while I continue with my other duties." Dylan
settled in the nun's office to read the assorted files.
There were a lot of state papers, official documents detailing that
the orphanage…hmmm….The orphanage adopted the Thin Man, giving him the
name Anthony; making him their ward until he ran away at sixteen.
That's unusual, never heard of an orphanage adopting a child.
Usually, they were just way-stations for children waiting for foster
homes or until they turned eighteen and were no longer the state's
responsibility. Where they were then turned onto the street, she
thought empathetically.
She picked up the social worker's report that detailed the young Thin
Man's "willful" and withdrawn personality and his disturbing fetish
for hair. Dylan frowned when she read that the social worker had
recommended shock therapy for him. What, just because he wouldn't
talk? Is that why he had run away? She chuckled then; apparently the
social worker also had quite a chunk of hair torn out of her head.
Welcome to the club, lady. She found the names of the cops who had
found him and noted down the names. Hopefully they're still alive and
can answer questions. She stopped for a moment to rest her eyes and
looked around the mother superior's office; her gaze resting on a
picture of Eve that hung behind the desk. I wonder how old she was
when the Thin Man was first brought here?
The files had only been a little helpful, they had detailed parts of
his life that happened once he got to the orphanage, not before. She
rummaged around the box and pulled out a manila envelope. Inside
were some drawings that were done by a child. The Thin Man's hands
did these?, Dylan wondered, as she smiled at the drawings.
He was talented, capturing small details in colored pencils. His
mother's blond hair and blue eyes and his father, a tall dark haired
figure with a…cape? And top hat? Hmmm..she assumed the small figure
wearing bright blue short pants was himself. But the father? Was he
some sort of magician?
Shaking the box a little, she heard something metal clang around. At
the bottom of the box was a small red velvet bag; she undid the
strings and pulled out a skeleton key and an ornately decorated
silver, very small, square box.
Looking around, she made a quick command decision. She pocketed the
two items and then at second thought, took the envelope and stuffed it
inside her jacket under her arm.
She stood up and headed for the door. "I hope we were able to help
you with your questions. And I hope Anthony isn't causing too much
trouble for you." Dylan turned towards the kindly smiling mother
superior, "Oh, yes, it was quite helpful. And no, he's not in any
kind of real trouble."
"Really? My, what a surprise! Anthony could always be a stubborn
child when he wanted something."
"Oh, I imagine he was...is that why he ran away from the orphanage
when he was sixteen? I read in the report that the social worker
wanted to give him shock therapy...."
"Well, you see, their understanding of emotional problems was so
different back then. We didn't know as much then as we do now. And
yes, at the time the mother superior was for shock therapy, but only
because Anthony was becoming increasingly erratic in his behavior. I
tried speaking to him at the time, I was just a novice then; but,
Anthony is so independent and mistrustful."
"Oh. Right. He's tightly wound. It's hard to imagine him...." Well,
given his hair fetish, it was hard not to see it the nuns' way. After
all, even though I've come to expect it from him....it really is
alarming behavior, Dylan thought bemused.
"So, you do understand where I am coming from...It's just this refusal
to...to...understand where other people are coming from....He can be
very demanding. Demanding that you understand his point of view. And
when that comes from a sixteen year old boy..." The mother superior
shrugged her shoulders and walked over to the window.
"Was he trying to become an independent minor? You know, make it
legal," Dylan mused out loud. The mother superior turned and gave
her a startled glance, "Why, yes. How on earth did you know that?"
"I understand a lot about how a sixteen year old's mind works, believe
me," Dylan smiled weakly. She hadn't known or read of it in the
files...she just guessed.
"Yes, I guess you would. And you're correct. But, the mother superior
at the time had simply refused him and it drove him to distraction."
She stopped, looking sad, "It got to the point where he just...he left
us, and he was very very angry. He didn't like being told no."
She turned back and looked out the window across the bay. "Anthony has
chosen his path. Or, perhaps the path has chosen him. Anyhow, he
seems quite content with the consequences. And I fear that there is
little that I can do to help him anymore."
Dylan stood there watching her look out the window. There was
something about this woman that she couldn't quite place her finger
on...."How old were you when he came here?", she asked.
"I was young then, in my mid-twenties. I wanted to make my parents
proud of me...my...sister had been such a disappointment." She turned
and Dylan was surprised to see the emotion well up in the mother
superior's pale blue eyes.
Dylan was feeling clear, right then; as clear as after that night she
spent with the Thin Man. Her arm folded, her hand lightly rubbing the
apple pendant under her t-shirt. She could see this so clearly....
"You knew his parents, didn't you?"her mind, grasping. In fact, Dylan
was willing to bet that she was Romanian, but second generation.
"Why! You are quite an astounding young lady aren't you!" The mother
superior's manner suddenly changed becoming much more formal and
brisk. Dylan could feel the distance between them grow, the last
moments of confessional intimacy broken by her last question.
"Yes, I did," she conceded; striding from the window to her chair
behind her desk. "I knew of them in passing. The community was much
smaller then. Besides, by that time I was already a novice and had
removed myself from worldly concerns." She folded her hands on top of
the desk; looked up at Dylan and smiled brightly. "Now, if you'll
excuse me; I'm so sorry, but I have so much work here that needs to be
done. Can you find your way out?"
*********
Dylan sunk into the thick leather chair in the conference room,
spreading out the blue prints of the abandoned office building before
her. She was feeling strangely since the orphanage. Like she had
just woken up from a bad dream, and couldn't shake it from her brain.
It was the interview with the mother superior; she was bothered by it
still. There was something about her that she couldn't place...And
she was disturbed by this new facet of the Thin Man's relationship
with the orphanage. Dylan wondered at how benign his existence was
there and at the extent of his loyalty that he still held
towards it and the mother superior.
Tonight she would stake out his place....Dylan jumped as a triumphant
Alex slapped her hand down on the table in front of her. A pink flush
had bloomed behind her freckles as she laughingly crowed, "You won't
believe what I found out!"
By this time, Natalie, Max and Bos were coming into the agency and
there was alot of commotion as they got coffee and water and then settled into the chairs around the table.
Alex had laughed that she had found out where the Thin Man had his
clothes dry cleaned. Everyone laughed; imagining the mundane sight of
the Thin Man waiting patiently for his pieces of clothing to be
counted up and then being handed a pick-up slip.
"Turns out that the six men worked for one Grigore Vasilescu,"Natalie
tossed a black and white picture onto the table.
"Whoa! Dracula called...he wants his hat back!" Max whistled as he
looked at the grainy picture of a dark haired man with a long
mustache, eyes shaded by sunglasses.
Bos leaned over and plucked the picture out of the boy's hand,"Quiet,
boy! Can't you see that adults are talkin'?"
Alex continued,"What's even more interesting is that these poor men
the Thin Man hacked to bits and immolated, weren't your average thugs
for hire. But, instead, seemed to lead fairly professional, though
solitary, lives. I found out about the dry cleaning place by
accident, finding the same pick-up slips at three of the six
addresses. The dry cleaning place could be a safe way of
communication between them."
"Right, and who's this Vasilescu?" Dylan asked.
"He's the one who owns the dummy corporations and several of his
corporations own property all over the state....but get this, quite a
few of those properties are also co-owned by the orphanage."
Dylan's eyes widened at this...so Mother Superior had been holding out
on her. "Well, the Church owns lots and lots of property. I mean...."
"Yeah, but how many orphanages own property with a guy like this,"
Alex interrupted, tapping the picture. "Something's up with this,
obviously; but again we have to determine whether Mother Superior is
aware of this Vasilescu or if this is a Thin Man arrangement."
"I'm sorta leaning towards her knowing about this..."said Dylan,
relating the Mother's sudden reluctance to talk to her after Dylan
inquired about the Thin Man's parents.
"Hmmm....the plot sickens..."Alex muttered. "Vasilescu has been in
the country for about thirty, thirty-five years and became naturalized
soon after 9/11..."
"Why then?" Max interrupted, "Why do it after thirty some odd years...?"
"My sources say that he's terrified of being deported under the
Patriot Act. If the AG does find something solid on him, it'll be a
lot harder to get rid of him since he'll be entitled to his rights,"
Boz said.
"What have they had on him before?" Dylan asked.
"Just the hard core stuff. Drugs, guns and women." Natalie said,
leaning back in her chair, "A right old triangle trade: buying,
selling and trading in guns and drugs. The prostitutes are a side
thing. I'm thinking that they do a lot of business with other
cartels, the usual thing."
"But, see they could never make anything stick. Witnesses died or
were bought off...who knows and it was hell to find out as much as we
did. This community is clammed up tight. People are afraid to talk."
Alex continued,"What's been happening is that he'll buy up drugs
across the border, then come back here and trade them for guns..."
"And that's certainly easy enough around here," Bos muttered
bitterly,"all those guns floatin' around, people wanting to get rid of
them, and he'll take them. No questions asked of course and he'll
smuggle them out..."
"Using a ship like the Merkin?" Dylan cocked her eyebrow at Bos.
"Yep. Of course, the AG is suddenly putting Vasilescu high on his list
of priorities. Despite the fact that he's been doing this for years.
Years! It's like people's memories are sieves...I mean, there've been
stories circulating forever about how he'd just walk into a gun
manufacturer's warehouse. Chat up the guard, slip him a few twenties
and meanwhile six hundred boxes of handguns mysteriously disappear.
File off the serial number and ya got yourself a Saturday Night
special. More often than not, they wound up in my neighborhood, all
those gangbangers want to protect their turf, right? And what do the
police care about the good people living there?" Bos shrugged,"but
that's how he got his start."
"Why? Why do it for so freakin' long?" Max asked. "I mean come on!
Make your money and just move on."
"Oooo, listen to you, Mr. Man," cooed Alex as Max blushed.
"Why does anybody do anything? It's just become his thing now. Chances
are, he's funding a war. And he's probably they're best fundraiser.
Listen, kids, we'll have to be careful with this one. You can always
deal with people who have a price....but with people like this...Where
they think they believe in something?! Well, they're dangerous as
hell....look at the IRA, hell! Look at al-Quaeda! They come over here
and they have one thing on their mind. Make money! Get guns! The ends
justifies the means!"Boz threw up his hands.
Alex heaved a sigh,"So, we have the gun runner and the nun. Tied
together by the Thin Man. Besides all being from the Romanian
community, what else do we have?"
Natalie looked at Dylan. "We've got to find out more. Word will
start to spread that we've been asking about him and Vasilescu. And
I'm sure the wheels have started to turn...people will start to get
antsy."
"The Thin Man may want to get out of all this," Dylan said,"he killed
eight men that day. And it seems like they were going after him. So,
maybe he's turned on Vasilescu. He wants out."
"You and Max are in the Witness Protection program. That's why he
might be reaching out to you," Nat smiled, "among other reasons, of
course."
"Maybe we can convince him to surrender,"Alex snorted, and Dylan glared
at her, continuing,"to SURRENDER into our protective custody."
"That might work," Natalie said. "Any ideas on how we trap a slippery
assassin?"
Dylan smiled, "Yeah, I got a few."
orphanage. Last night, after the Thin Man left, Nat, Alex and Dylan
had sat down at the conference table to sort out their leads.
The FBI had come through and Alex decided that she'd start
tracking down where the dead men lived and who'd they'd worked
for; Nat would help Alex and continue her leads into the wire fraud
and corporate front of the smuggling ring.
It was decided that Dylan would find out more about the Thin Man's
involvement in this operation. They needed to know if he was just a
hired hand or if he was part of some larger power play.
But they were at a complete disadvantage, since they knew next to
nothing about the Thin Man. Dylan figured she could find out from the
mother superior the names of the cops' who'd found him. And also get
whatever files the nuns had on him; whether official or just orphanage
stuff.
Max, of course, got into the act; he wanted to hang out at
the Coal Bowl to see if the Thin Man would race again. "I could ask
people around there if they've seen him before, I'm sure people've
seen him. Make it seem like I want to challenge him or somethin'."
The angels looked at each other. "Well, ok; let's clear it with your
brothers' first though," Nat hedged.
"Great, and can you guys advance me two grand for the pot?" "NO!!"
She boarded the ferry to the orphanage and took a seat. She reached
into her jacket and pulled out the baggie that held the necklace. It
was really quite stunning, and not as stereotypically medieval as she
had previously thought of magical talismans. If that's what it really
was. No, it was wonderfully modern in an art nouveau way. The sleek
head and tail glinted in the sun and the apple was darling enough to
eat, being more realistically detailed than the abstracted snake.
Not wanting to get the chain snarled up, she undid the clasp and put
it around her neck. The metal was smooth and cool on her skin as she
looked down at the necklace. She rather liked it and tucked it into
her t-shirt.
The mother superior was friendly and gracious as ever and waved away
apologies for being disturbed. "It's nothing, really! Please make
yourself comfortable while I continue with my other duties." Dylan
settled in the nun's office to read the assorted files.
There were a lot of state papers, official documents detailing that
the orphanage…hmmm….The orphanage adopted the Thin Man, giving him the
name Anthony; making him their ward until he ran away at sixteen.
That's unusual, never heard of an orphanage adopting a child.
Usually, they were just way-stations for children waiting for foster
homes or until they turned eighteen and were no longer the state's
responsibility. Where they were then turned onto the street, she
thought empathetically.
She picked up the social worker's report that detailed the young Thin
Man's "willful" and withdrawn personality and his disturbing fetish
for hair. Dylan frowned when she read that the social worker had
recommended shock therapy for him. What, just because he wouldn't
talk? Is that why he had run away? She chuckled then; apparently the
social worker also had quite a chunk of hair torn out of her head.
Welcome to the club, lady. She found the names of the cops who had
found him and noted down the names. Hopefully they're still alive and
can answer questions. She stopped for a moment to rest her eyes and
looked around the mother superior's office; her gaze resting on a
picture of Eve that hung behind the desk. I wonder how old she was
when the Thin Man was first brought here?
The files had only been a little helpful, they had detailed parts of
his life that happened once he got to the orphanage, not before. She
rummaged around the box and pulled out a manila envelope. Inside
were some drawings that were done by a child. The Thin Man's hands
did these?, Dylan wondered, as she smiled at the drawings.
He was talented, capturing small details in colored pencils. His
mother's blond hair and blue eyes and his father, a tall dark haired
figure with a…cape? And top hat? Hmmm..she assumed the small figure
wearing bright blue short pants was himself. But the father? Was he
some sort of magician?
Shaking the box a little, she heard something metal clang around. At
the bottom of the box was a small red velvet bag; she undid the
strings and pulled out a skeleton key and an ornately decorated
silver, very small, square box.
Looking around, she made a quick command decision. She pocketed the
two items and then at second thought, took the envelope and stuffed it
inside her jacket under her arm.
She stood up and headed for the door. "I hope we were able to help
you with your questions. And I hope Anthony isn't causing too much
trouble for you." Dylan turned towards the kindly smiling mother
superior, "Oh, yes, it was quite helpful. And no, he's not in any
kind of real trouble."
"Really? My, what a surprise! Anthony could always be a stubborn
child when he wanted something."
"Oh, I imagine he was...is that why he ran away from the orphanage
when he was sixteen? I read in the report that the social worker
wanted to give him shock therapy...."
"Well, you see, their understanding of emotional problems was so
different back then. We didn't know as much then as we do now. And
yes, at the time the mother superior was for shock therapy, but only
because Anthony was becoming increasingly erratic in his behavior. I
tried speaking to him at the time, I was just a novice then; but,
Anthony is so independent and mistrustful."
"Oh. Right. He's tightly wound. It's hard to imagine him...." Well,
given his hair fetish, it was hard not to see it the nuns' way. After
all, even though I've come to expect it from him....it really is
alarming behavior, Dylan thought bemused.
"So, you do understand where I am coming from...It's just this refusal
to...to...understand where other people are coming from....He can be
very demanding. Demanding that you understand his point of view. And
when that comes from a sixteen year old boy..." The mother superior
shrugged her shoulders and walked over to the window.
"Was he trying to become an independent minor? You know, make it
legal," Dylan mused out loud. The mother superior turned and gave
her a startled glance, "Why, yes. How on earth did you know that?"
"I understand a lot about how a sixteen year old's mind works, believe
me," Dylan smiled weakly. She hadn't known or read of it in the
files...she just guessed.
"Yes, I guess you would. And you're correct. But, the mother superior
at the time had simply refused him and it drove him to distraction."
She stopped, looking sad, "It got to the point where he just...he left
us, and he was very very angry. He didn't like being told no."
She turned back and looked out the window across the bay. "Anthony has
chosen his path. Or, perhaps the path has chosen him. Anyhow, he
seems quite content with the consequences. And I fear that there is
little that I can do to help him anymore."
Dylan stood there watching her look out the window. There was
something about this woman that she couldn't quite place her finger
on...."How old were you when he came here?", she asked.
"I was young then, in my mid-twenties. I wanted to make my parents
proud of me...my...sister had been such a disappointment." She turned
and Dylan was surprised to see the emotion well up in the mother
superior's pale blue eyes.
Dylan was feeling clear, right then; as clear as after that night she
spent with the Thin Man. Her arm folded, her hand lightly rubbing the
apple pendant under her t-shirt. She could see this so clearly....
"You knew his parents, didn't you?"her mind, grasping. In fact, Dylan
was willing to bet that she was Romanian, but second generation.
"Why! You are quite an astounding young lady aren't you!" The mother
superior's manner suddenly changed becoming much more formal and
brisk. Dylan could feel the distance between them grow, the last
moments of confessional intimacy broken by her last question.
"Yes, I did," she conceded; striding from the window to her chair
behind her desk. "I knew of them in passing. The community was much
smaller then. Besides, by that time I was already a novice and had
removed myself from worldly concerns." She folded her hands on top of
the desk; looked up at Dylan and smiled brightly. "Now, if you'll
excuse me; I'm so sorry, but I have so much work here that needs to be
done. Can you find your way out?"
*********
Dylan sunk into the thick leather chair in the conference room,
spreading out the blue prints of the abandoned office building before
her. She was feeling strangely since the orphanage. Like she had
just woken up from a bad dream, and couldn't shake it from her brain.
It was the interview with the mother superior; she was bothered by it
still. There was something about her that she couldn't place...And
she was disturbed by this new facet of the Thin Man's relationship
with the orphanage. Dylan wondered at how benign his existence was
there and at the extent of his loyalty that he still held
towards it and the mother superior.
Tonight she would stake out his place....Dylan jumped as a triumphant
Alex slapped her hand down on the table in front of her. A pink flush
had bloomed behind her freckles as she laughingly crowed, "You won't
believe what I found out!"
By this time, Natalie, Max and Bos were coming into the agency and
there was alot of commotion as they got coffee and water and then settled into the chairs around the table.
Alex had laughed that she had found out where the Thin Man had his
clothes dry cleaned. Everyone laughed; imagining the mundane sight of
the Thin Man waiting patiently for his pieces of clothing to be
counted up and then being handed a pick-up slip.
"Turns out that the six men worked for one Grigore Vasilescu,"Natalie
tossed a black and white picture onto the table.
"Whoa! Dracula called...he wants his hat back!" Max whistled as he
looked at the grainy picture of a dark haired man with a long
mustache, eyes shaded by sunglasses.
Bos leaned over and plucked the picture out of the boy's hand,"Quiet,
boy! Can't you see that adults are talkin'?"
Alex continued,"What's even more interesting is that these poor men
the Thin Man hacked to bits and immolated, weren't your average thugs
for hire. But, instead, seemed to lead fairly professional, though
solitary, lives. I found out about the dry cleaning place by
accident, finding the same pick-up slips at three of the six
addresses. The dry cleaning place could be a safe way of
communication between them."
"Right, and who's this Vasilescu?" Dylan asked.
"He's the one who owns the dummy corporations and several of his
corporations own property all over the state....but get this, quite a
few of those properties are also co-owned by the orphanage."
Dylan's eyes widened at this...so Mother Superior had been holding out
on her. "Well, the Church owns lots and lots of property. I mean...."
"Yeah, but how many orphanages own property with a guy like this,"
Alex interrupted, tapping the picture. "Something's up with this,
obviously; but again we have to determine whether Mother Superior is
aware of this Vasilescu or if this is a Thin Man arrangement."
"I'm sorta leaning towards her knowing about this..."said Dylan,
relating the Mother's sudden reluctance to talk to her after Dylan
inquired about the Thin Man's parents.
"Hmmm....the plot sickens..."Alex muttered. "Vasilescu has been in
the country for about thirty, thirty-five years and became naturalized
soon after 9/11..."
"Why then?" Max interrupted, "Why do it after thirty some odd years...?"
"My sources say that he's terrified of being deported under the
Patriot Act. If the AG does find something solid on him, it'll be a
lot harder to get rid of him since he'll be entitled to his rights,"
Boz said.
"What have they had on him before?" Dylan asked.
"Just the hard core stuff. Drugs, guns and women." Natalie said,
leaning back in her chair, "A right old triangle trade: buying,
selling and trading in guns and drugs. The prostitutes are a side
thing. I'm thinking that they do a lot of business with other
cartels, the usual thing."
"But, see they could never make anything stick. Witnesses died or
were bought off...who knows and it was hell to find out as much as we
did. This community is clammed up tight. People are afraid to talk."
Alex continued,"What's been happening is that he'll buy up drugs
across the border, then come back here and trade them for guns..."
"And that's certainly easy enough around here," Bos muttered
bitterly,"all those guns floatin' around, people wanting to get rid of
them, and he'll take them. No questions asked of course and he'll
smuggle them out..."
"Using a ship like the Merkin?" Dylan cocked her eyebrow at Bos.
"Yep. Of course, the AG is suddenly putting Vasilescu high on his list
of priorities. Despite the fact that he's been doing this for years.
Years! It's like people's memories are sieves...I mean, there've been
stories circulating forever about how he'd just walk into a gun
manufacturer's warehouse. Chat up the guard, slip him a few twenties
and meanwhile six hundred boxes of handguns mysteriously disappear.
File off the serial number and ya got yourself a Saturday Night
special. More often than not, they wound up in my neighborhood, all
those gangbangers want to protect their turf, right? And what do the
police care about the good people living there?" Bos shrugged,"but
that's how he got his start."
"Why? Why do it for so freakin' long?" Max asked. "I mean come on!
Make your money and just move on."
"Oooo, listen to you, Mr. Man," cooed Alex as Max blushed.
"Why does anybody do anything? It's just become his thing now. Chances
are, he's funding a war. And he's probably they're best fundraiser.
Listen, kids, we'll have to be careful with this one. You can always
deal with people who have a price....but with people like this...Where
they think they believe in something?! Well, they're dangerous as
hell....look at the IRA, hell! Look at al-Quaeda! They come over here
and they have one thing on their mind. Make money! Get guns! The ends
justifies the means!"Boz threw up his hands.
Alex heaved a sigh,"So, we have the gun runner and the nun. Tied
together by the Thin Man. Besides all being from the Romanian
community, what else do we have?"
Natalie looked at Dylan. "We've got to find out more. Word will
start to spread that we've been asking about him and Vasilescu. And
I'm sure the wheels have started to turn...people will start to get
antsy."
"The Thin Man may want to get out of all this," Dylan said,"he killed
eight men that day. And it seems like they were going after him. So,
maybe he's turned on Vasilescu. He wants out."
"You and Max are in the Witness Protection program. That's why he
might be reaching out to you," Nat smiled, "among other reasons, of
course."
"Maybe we can convince him to surrender,"Alex snorted, and Dylan glared
at her, continuing,"to SURRENDER into our protective custody."
"That might work," Natalie said. "Any ideas on how we trap a slippery
assassin?"
Dylan smiled, "Yeah, I got a few."