Disclaimer: Do you think the publishers would care if they saw a fanfiction without a disclaimer?
Interesting fact: Lincoln died in Ford Theater, JFK died in a Lincoln manufactured Ford.
Fenton's Day (Friday)
Fenton stepped off of his plane in Philadelphia with less enthusiasm than he had ever felt while working on any kind of case. With only a carry-on suitcase, he immediately left the airport and found a cab to take him to the nearest hotel possible. He didn't even take the time to admire the beauty that Philadelphia provided. All of his concentration was on the task at hand.
The taxicab stopped in front of a nice four star hotel that the FBI was paying for. Fenton didn't even notice how nice the hotel was. As if he was a robot he paid the cab driver, checked in, and went to his room. Once in the room he opened his suitcase. He took out his laptop and a few files.
One the top of the files were the words BLACK WIDOW. Fenton sighed; this was going to be the worst case he had ever worked on. And the worst part was that he had already worked on it about seventeen years earlier. At the time he thought that he had solved the government's problems, he thought that Black Widow would never be a part of his life ever again.
Fenton sat on the bed reviewing the facts from the case. He didn't really need to, the events from the case were still vivid in his mind, unfortunately. But it was proper procedure. After an hour of reading, reviewing, and making notes, Fenton turned his laptop on. He immediately logged onto a government website, he had clearance from the FBI to do so. He found the information he was looking for, highly classified information on one of the most dangerous criminals Fenton had ever had to catch.
Well, well Jaswall, I see your son and only child has died. I guess Evil really does get what's coming to it.
Fenton put his laptop away after reading about a few more people. He picked up his phone to call Agent Griswald.
"Hello?"
"Agent it's Fenton. Where is this partner you promised me? I'm not working this case alone...not again," Fenton shuddered as some memories came flooding back.
"Don't worry, his plane's just delayed. He is flying in from Illinios, there could have been a snow storm or something"
"Well he better get here soon."
"Don't worry Fenton, he will be there."
Fenton hung up without saying bye. He didn't care if it could be conceived as rude. He was angry at the FBI for sticking him with the case and if he felt like taking it out on Griswald then that's what he was going to do.
Knock, knock.
Fenton walked over to the door and opened it. "It's about time."
"Sorry," apologized the man at the door, "my plane was.."
"Delayed. I know." Fenton closed the door as soon as the man walked in, "But Agent Vlores, you should have called me to let me know."
"But my cellphone doesn't work at that altitude."
"There's always a laptop, I know you government types carry them around everywhere, you could have sent an email," Fenton knew he was being unreasonable but he didn't care.
"Look," the Agent said holding up his hands in surrender, "let's get started on the case and all will be good."
"Fine," Fenton muttered. "Pick up the files on the bed, you're new to the case you need to catch up." Fenton said as he walked towards the door.
"I've read the information, I have a copy," Agent Vlores protested.
Fenton turned around in annoyance, "You have the official FBI files, I have the more detailed ones."
"And what will you be doing while I read these."
"I'm going to see about renting a car. You didn't expect to walk around Philadelphia did you?"
"No, guess not," muttered the Agent knowing this would be a difficult case.
* * *
Fenton and Vlores stood in front of Grassroots.
"So this is the place where they noticed the 'disturbance'."
Fenton looked at Vlores and shook his head. Why were the younger agents such idiots? "Just put your gloves on Vlores, we don't want to leave fingerprints. And make sure you take plenty of pictures, we might need them as evidence."
Vlores and Fenton entered the one story, shut down club. The club didn't look like it had shut down. In Fenton's eyes it could have just been closed for the day. He observed the several wicker chairs sitting at glass tables. On each table stood a stained glass candle holder, most did not have candles in them.
"Are you sure the club shut down three years ago?" Vlores asked.
Fenton looked at his partner, annoyed. "That's what Griswald said. And according to the city's records the club went bankrupt."
"Strange." Vlores walked up to what could only be the bar. He ran a finger over the cold, purple, marble counter top. He held his finger up to his face. "Fenton there is absolutely no dust in this building."
The older man looked surprised, "How could that be?" Looking at the walls he saw that the red wallpaper had been left in tact. Not even one tear. "Vlores maybe some one is still using the building for something."
"And they decided to make it neat and tidy?" Vlores asked incredulously.
Fenton shrugged. "I've heard of stranger things happening. Let's not forget what kind of case we're working on."
Vlores took the point, their case was definitely stranger than a clean criminal. After searching the building for hours Fenton was becoming frustrated. There was no sign of a disturbance and even less of a sign that project BLACK WIDOW was involved in any way.
"Vlores," Fenton said, "Have you found anything?"
Vlores shook his head, "Not so much as one scratch, sign of a struggle, nothing. What kind of disturbance did the local police say was observed here anyway?"
"They weren't too clear. Some locals just heard some odd noises and the police didn't bother investigating because, as you know, this club is government property and..." Fenton's eyes widened in understanding.
"Fenton?" Vlores asked as his partner's voice trailed off.
Fenton's face became bright red with anger. Vlores wasn't sure if he should bother the man.
"Vlores the reason this club is still clean is simple, the government is still using it to create their superhumans!"