Chapter 12

"Sam, go home." Bailey walked up behind her in the conference room, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Not now." she murmured, skimming their notes about O'Doyle's company.

"It's late and you're tired."

She shrugged and continued reading. "I wanted to work this through."

Bailey let out a deep breath and took a seat next to her. They tried everything to find out where John was but it was in vain.

He glanced across the table where George was still working on his computer and Marcus was talking to the Atlanta P.D.

"Look, there's no reason to stay up with us. Go home and get some sleep. I'll call you when there's something new."

Sighing, she settled back on her chair and met his eyes. "Bailey, please. Don't make me go home. Because I don't want to."

"Don't be stubborn, Sam. Look at you. You're exhausted, so why don't you wanna go to bed and get some sleep?"

"Because I know that I wouldn't get some sleep, okay? What do you think that I can rest when I don't know where John is? No, I won't and we both know that." They stared at each other for a moment before Sam looked away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound like that."

"It's okay."

"It's just... I'm worried and I wanna know where John is."

"I know." Bailey placed his hand over hers. "We'll find him."

"Sam?" Grace came from her office, a telephone in her hand. "Mrs. Franklin is on the phone. She said that her daughter got sick, so it'd be better if Chloe sleeps at home tonight. And she asked if it's okay when her husband brings her home in 15 minutes."

Pressing two fingers to her eyes, she replied hesitantly. "Yeah, sure."

"Okay." Grace nodded and walked back into her lab.

"This is good. Spend your evening with Chloe."

"But I..."

"You can't change it anyway, Sam. I told you that I'll call you if we have something new."

"Okay." she closed the folder and tucked it under her arm. "How long are you staying here?"

"I don't know."

"I feel bad for going home while all of you are still working." Sam said, looking at her co-workers.

"Don't be and now go." Bailey said and lifted himself from his chair too.

"Is it okay when I take this with me?" she gestured to the folder under her arm.

"Yes. I have a copy in my office."

Sam nodded and grabbed her coat. "Good night."

"Night, Sam." George said, absentmindly.

Marcus gave her a small wave while he was talking on the phone.

"Don't forget to call." she said after she turned around once again.

"I promise."

"Thanks. Bye." she slipped into her coat, grabbed her purse and the folder and walked over to the elevators.

That was when he felt someone tipping her shoulder. "You want me to bring you home?"

She looked over her shoulder and saw that it was Coop. "No thanks." She turned her head back to look at the elevator doors, waiting for them to open.

"It'd be no problem, you know?"

"My car is in the garage, Coop." she added sighing, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, I thought you came with John's car this morning." he said, stepping up beside her so that he can see her face.

At the mention of John's name, she flinched but she didn't want to show anything to Coop, so she steadied herself. "No, I came with my own car." When the doors went open, she stepped inside. "Now excuse me. I have to go."

The elevator doors were about to close again when Coop held them open.

"What are you doing?" Sam looked up at him, frowning.

"Let me be there for you, Sam."

"I don't need you to be there for me. I just wanna go home." she pushed the button for the garage again but Coop was still standing between the doors.

"Sam, maybe this is our chance."

"Our... what?"

"Yes. Now that John is... well, gone."

"I... I don't believe this." she shook her head and furiously hit the 'G' button again. "Bailey?"

"But it's true, isn't it? You don't even know if he's still alive."

"Bailey?" she said again, this time more loudly.

A few seconds later, Bailey stood behind Coop. "What's wrong?"

"Coop just told me how extremely bored he is." she shot him a glare. "Maybe you have something to do for him."

"I'm sure I can find something. Coop, follow me to my office. Now." he moved around and walked away.

"Yes, Bailey." he answered sighing, his eyes still locked with Sam's.

Sam faked a smile and gave him a small wave. "Bye Coop."

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John threw himself against the door several times, in hope to get it open. The only effect it caused was that his right shoulder hurt like hell. So he stopped and started to pound loudly. "Open the door! Open that damn door."

O'Doyle stood outside and grinned. He looked at the key in his hand and decided to unlock the door. Slowly he turned the key and pushed the door open. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"W... what I'm doing? Who locked me in here?" John asked angrily.

"Well..." O'Doyle gave him an evil grin.

"You knocked me down in Atlanta and the next time I open my eyes, I'm in Boston. I could arrest you for kidnapping an FBI agent." John said, trying to get past his father and out of the room.

"Nah nah nah. Where do you think you're going?" he placed his hands on John's chest and pushed him back.

"Look, I don't know what's all this about but when you let me go now I promise I'll let this little coincident out of my report."

"Yeah. Sure. Like you told me not to snoop around in my business. But guess what. You did."

"You wouldn't be so pissed about it if you weren't sure I'd find something."

"We had a deal, remember?"

"Okay, been there done that." John answered sighing and tried to come closer to the door.

"I told you, you're staying."

"What for?" John shouted.

"Because I'm saying it."

John laughed and focused his eyes back on his father. "Really? Is that so? Geez, I didn't know that you can still tell me what to do. Actually, I thought this times are over."

"Then think again. You crossed my life again and now you have to deal with it."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I want you to work for me. Work with me."

"Excuse me?" John asked in shock. "You got to be kidding."

"Do you see me laughing?"

"What the hell makes you think that I'd work for you? All I wanna do is kick your ass for what you've done. To me. To my mother. To our life."

"That was all in the past. Don't you think we can start over new again?"

"I don't believe this." he shook his head and waved him off. "This is just ridiculous. I'm going."

"I don't think so." When John was half out the door, he felt something on his back.

He slowly turned around and noticed that his father pointed a gun at him. "What now? You shoot me over or what?"

"If I have to." His father glared at him, expressionless.

"Look what father you are. Threatening your son with a gun. Though you didn't use a gun when I was younger but it surely remembers me of old times. When you were punching me until blood were streaming from my mouth and my nose. Do you remember that, too? Easy to do that when you know that the other one has no chance, right? But what now? Afraid of using your fists because you know I could defend myself? That's why you're using your gun. It's so much easier to just shoot me over."

"Why don't you wanna take my offer?"

"Not again." John breathed out, shoving his hands over his face.

"Is it because of her and her little girl?"

John frowned. "How do you know...?

Holding the gun in his right hand, he reached with his other hand into the pocket of his jacket and took out a picture. "Very nice family but unfortunately it's not yours, isn't it?"

John looked at the picture and reached for his wallet but he didn't have it anymore. "You took my wallet."

"Guilty." he gave his son an evil grin.

John tried to snap the picture out of his father's hand but O'Doyle quickly pulled it away. "Hey, it's mine. Give it back."

"It's mine... give it back." His father mocked him, still grinning. "You can still work as an FBI agent and see your..." he took a glance at the picture. "...family. It just has to stay between the two of us."

"Look, I don't know what's going on in that crazy mind of yours but I'm definitely not going to work for you. Ever. Why do you insist on it anyway?"

"Because I know you're good. I checked your files and saw what you've done all those years. Beside this, with your connections no one can do us any harm."

John stood there with his hands on his hips, his gaze was shifting from his father to the gun he was pointing at him....

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To be continued.... Please R&R! Thanks :)