A/N: Wow, this chapter proved quite a bit harder to write than I expected. But once I got started it flowed alright. Anyway, thanks a bunch for the plethora of reviews. I should mention that I was out of town last week which is why this chapter is being posted a week later than expected. Sorry, but I've got things to do! Basically this chapter is setting up some important things that you need to know. I hope you enjoy it! By the way, I think you'll all love the next chapter. Let's just say it's not going to feature near as much Scott as the last few chapters have. Until next time!

"You really think it's him?" asked Oculus.

"I've told you, it's him. There's not a doubt in my mind!" Wicks was leaning back in the leather chair at his desk. Visits with Oculus were becoming more and more frequent as the two worked together to find a way to catch Sonance. As always, they now sat in Wicks' office after everyone else in the department had gone home. They'd already been here for nearly an hour.

"Okay, let's say it is him," said Oculus. "Why? Why would Driscoll, the commissioner of the police force, turn himself into some sort of supervillain?"

"I don't know," conceded Wicks, leaning forward to place his elbows on the desk and lean his chin into his hands. "I've been trying to answer that one for months. Maybe he's just spent so many years analyzing the so-called criminal mind that he managed to convince himself that he had more than just the gift to understand it. Y'know? Maybe he convinced himself that he actually had that mind."

Oculus shook his head. "That doesn't make sense to me. Its not enough to turn a cop into a killer."

"Okay, then try this possibility. Driscoll has personally arrested hundreds of criminals in his career. He's seen the best and the worst of them. Maybe, after decades of watching them, he started thinking about what they should have done to avoid getting caught. With each arrest he makes, he sees another way to mess up and get caught and, therefore, another way to avoid getting caught. So finally he starts realizing that, with this understanding, he could get away with anything 'cause he knows the secrets. He knows what to do. He knows how to cover his tracks so the police can't follow him. He knows everything about how the police work. Plus, and this is the big one, he's the Police Commissioner! He can throw the whole department off the trail with the snap of his fingers! Its so easy for him that he decides he's gonna try it out. He creates this Sonance alter ego and starts carrying out smalltime murders and crimes around the city. Finally, he moves into big time crime. He hires some goons to do the dirty work while he runs everything from the background. Next thing ya know, the city's in the middle of a crime spree and the police can't find the criminal mastermind because he's constantly leading them in the wrong direction!"

Oculus thought about the scenario for a moment, his body completely still as he meditated on all the possibilities. "It still just doesn't feel right, Robert. I mean, the guy's no saint by any means. But to pull off this whole Sonance thing would take a really sick and twisted mind. He's killing people left and right, and for what? As much as he wants us to think its all political, lets not forget that he's only been killing underlings, no offense to your assistant."

"None taken."

"So far," continued Oculus, "he's tried to kill twelve people and he's been successful eleven times. Of those eleven, ten had strong ties to city officials. The one murder that was prevented was Flass, one of Driscoll's best lieutenants. So here's my question. You're convinced Driscoll is Sonance. What evidence do you have to support that?"

Wicks cracked a small smile as he comfortably leaned back into his chair again. "Let's go through the murders one by one."

"Sounds good," said Oculus.

"First murder, Danny Wahlberg." Wicks grabbed a stack of papers off a shelf behind him and laid them on his desk as he spoke. On top of the stack was a picture of Wahlberg. "Danny was a hometown boy, one of the best runningbacks that ever came through Memphis State. His dad was Paul Wahlberg, city councilman. Paul had criticized Driscoll just a month before his boy was killed. He complained at one of the council meetings that the MPD wasn't doing its job. He basically said the place had become a fraternity of lazy cops who liked to sit around and pretend they were serving the citizens of Memphis. Needless to say, Driscoll didn't take it well. He blew up when a news reporter asked him about it. Told the reporter that if Wahlberg thought he could do a better job, then he should give it a try. Otherwise, he said Wahlberg could shut his damn mouth. Danny was shot in the neck two weeks later and bled to death on the sidewalk in front of the Galleria mall. It's now considered to be Sonance's first crime in Memphis. Interesting sidenote, Ron Driscoll was the first cop on the scene. He was 'in the area.'"

"So you think Driscoll killed Danny himself?"

"I think Driscoll happened to see Danny at the mall and got angry as he started thinking about what the kid's dad had said. I think he followed Danny outside, hid behind a tree or a wall or something while Danny was walking to his car, and shot him with the gun issued to him by the police department."

"Can you prove that?" asked Oculus.

"No, unfortunately. The bullet went straight through the boy's neck. In one side and out the other. It's probably lodged in a tree next to the Galleria's parking lot, but CSI never found it."

"So Driscoll's got an obvious motive and opportunity for murder number one. Did anybody else have another reason to kill Danny?"

Wicks shrugged. "Not that we know of."

"Anything else?"

"Well, Paul Wahlberg isn't running for reelection this year. Other than that, no."

Oculus nodded and took one more glance at the face of Danny Wahlberg lying on the desk in front of him.

"Alright, on to murder number two then."

"Murder two," said Wicks as he slid Danny's picture to the side to reveal the picture right below it, "was another young man named Vince Jergow. He worked for Katherine Enders, the woman in charge of marketing the city. She runs the department that makes all those TV ads you see promoting Memphis as the cultural highlight of the Delta. Basically, if this was New York, she'd be the one behind the whole 'I heart NY' thing."

"Okay, so what's her link to Driscoll?"

"She agreed with Wahlberg's comments. She told the local news team that it was getting harder and harder to promote Memphis thanks to the escalating crime rate. She blamed that on a lazy police department. Jergow was killed just a week after Wahlberg."

"Incriminating evidence against Driscoll?" asked Oculus.

"Remember what he said about Walhberg?"

"Yeah."

"That was directed at Enders too."

"Okay. Anything solid?"

"No."

Oculus leaned back a little and stretched his arms. "I hope the other murders have more than that to point to Driscoll as the guy behind it. Frankly Robert, Driscoll telling someone to 'shut their damn mouth' isn't exactly beyond a shadow of a doubt type of evidence."

"Sonance is good," said Wicks. "He's not gonna leave us a slip of paper with his social security number or anything. Any evidence you find to point you towards this guy, whether its Driscoll or not, is just gonna be circumstantial stuff."

"Good point," conceded Oculus. "Next?"

Wicks revealed the next picture on the desk. "Cameron Griffin. He worked for Melissa McDaniel."

==========

The two men went on for another hour reviewing Sonance's crimes. Each murder had a connection to Driscoll in some way or another. Usually the victim worked for a city official who had complained about the police department. One victim had worked for a man who opined to the local news station that Driscoll was no longer the right man to hold the Commissioner's office.

"So," said Oculus when they were done reviewing the murders, "how do I know you're not making this up?"

Wicks looked up at his face for a second before answering. "Don't trust me?"

"No, I trust you. Honestly, I'm starting to see what you're saying. Driscoll definitely had a motive for each one of these murders. I guess I'm asking why you're helping me."

Wicks took off his reading glasses and set them on the desk. "Because this guy killed a good friend of mine. Nelson had been my assistant for almost ten years before they killed him. I want to see Sonance captured and put where he belongs. And if I'm right about Driscoll, then you're my only chance of seeing that happen. He can control the entire police force, but he can't control you."

Oculus nodded. "It just seems so cowardly."

"Excuse me?" said Wicks, a little surprised by the statement.

"Not you," said Oculus. "I meant Sonance. He never kills the person in charge. It's always their assistant. If he's trying to make a political statement, then why not kill the guy that the public knows?"

"If I'm right, then it isn't political at all. Its just one man's bruised ego coming out when someone insults him."

"Right, but let's assume for a second that it is political. Let's assume he's trying to make a statement. Why not kill the guy in charge? I mean, what he's doing is like killing the Secretary of State because you have a problem with the President."

"Well, I do have one theory if that's the case," said Wicks. "If you kill the person in charge, then all you do make the city angry. When they refill that position, they're not going to give in to what you want them to do. But if you just kill their assistant, or son, or whoever, then the person in charge is still around and he's scared. He knows that if you can kill his right-hand man, you can kill him. He's constantly afraid that you'll come after him if he makes you angry. So he gives in to your commands just a little bit."

"So has Sonance made any commands? Has he ever said that he wants something to happen?"

"No, and that's why I think its personal."

Oculus stood up from his seat for the first time in about two hours. "So what do you know about Sonance? I mean, what details do you know about his organization and how he runs things?"

"What makes you think I know anything?"

"You certainly seem to know more than most people. I figure you've hired some private investigator or something to check it out for you. I wanna know what you know. Maybe there's something I haven't discovered that will help me out."

Wicks smiled and glanced at his watch. "I knew you were bright. You're right, I did hire someone. Unfortunately I don't have time to get into that right now. I've got plans for tonight."

Oculus glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearing 8:00pm. "What sort of plans?"

"I've got tickets to Les Miserables tonight at the Orpheum," said Wicks as he stood and reached for his jacket. "I've been planning on going for months. Sorry, we'll talk more about this later."

Oculus sighed to himself. "Fine, come back here when it's over. I'll be back around midnight. We'll continue then."

"Sounds good," said Wicks. He extended his hand towards Oculus. "Until later."

Oculus gripped Wicks' hand in his own and shook it for just a second. Wicks turned around to grab his glasses off his desk. When he looked back up, the window was open and Oculus was gone.

==========

The next four hours were pretty slow for Oculus. He made his normal rounds through the city quite a bit faster than usual, but there just wasn't anything going on. Deep down he knew that was a good thing. It meant the criminals of Memphis were realizing that they would be caught if they tried anything and so they simply weren't trying. But it still made things boring for Oculus.

As it got close to 12:00, he made his way back towards Wicks' office. The light was already on when he got there so Oculus just slipped through the window silently. Wicks was sitting at his desk with some paperwork in front of him.

"How was the play?" asked Oculus.

Wicks set his pen down and looked up. "Great, except for the actor playing Marius. That kid couldn't find a key if you threw it at him, which I might add, the other actors were trying to do all night. He was horrible. I've never heard "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables" sung so badly!"

Oculus gave his friend a strange look as he returned to his chair across the room. "Bad singer, huh?"

Wicks smirked. "The worst. I don't know how he got the role."

"Anyway," said Scott in attempt to change the subject. He had been working with Wicks for two weeks now but had never seen him this upset, especially over something so small. "I believe you were about to tell me what you knew about Sonance's organization?"

Wicks shook his head as if to force the sound of the actor's voice out of his mind. "Yeah, that's right. So here's what I know. He never kills anyone himself. He always has someone else do it for him. When he wants to order a murder, he somehow calls all his thugs to some warehouse in the shipping district. Apparently only a few of the thugs are selected to perform the hit and the others just leave and wait for the next one."

"Right, I knew all that," said Oculus. "Actually, I know exactly which warehouse it is. He calls them there by sending out some high frequency pitch that extends around the downtown area. He's found a way for all his thugs to hear it without the whole city hearing it. They all go to this warehouse where they're met by two guys named Prism and Lout, both mutants. They hand pick the guys who are gonna perform the hit and send the rest home. Then they give the selected thugs their orders and send 'em on their way."

"Prism and Lout?" asked Wicks slowly.

"Yeah, you know 'em?"

"I've heard those names before." Wicks started rubbing his chin as he thought. "Yeah, I remember them now! Cassidy told me about them. He said they're mutants, like you said."

"Cassidy?"

"The guy I hired to dig around in Sonance's organization."

"Where is he?"

"Dead. He got too close and they killed him."

Oculus looked up in shock. It wasn't the fact that Cassidy was killed that shocked him. It was the ease Wicks seemed to have in telling him about Cassidy's fate. He mentally shook the thought away. It wasn't important enough to find out why Wicks apparently felt no remorse about Cassidy's death.

"Did he know their powers?" asked Oculus.

Wicks smiled, now remembering everything he had been told about the two thugs. "Yeah, he did. Lout's got some sort of superstrength. Cassidy said he was every bit as strong as ten guys, if not more. He said he actually saw the guy lift a pick-up truck with one hand. Prism's power is a little different though. I never really understood exactly how it worked to tell you the truth. Apparently the guy's made of glass or something…"

"Basically. His body looks a lot like clouded glass when you see it," interrupted Oculus.

"Right, that's what Cassidy said. Anyway, apparently the guy can refract light beams as they pass through him. He can use it to direct incredibly bright lights at stuff and can focus it on a tiny area. I'm sure there's more too that I just don't know."

"What about Sonance himself?" asked Oculus. "I've heard he's a mutant too."

"Don't know," said Wicks. "That's the rumor around town but no one can prove it. Even Cassidy, who did some great work by the way, never saw Sonance unless he saw him the night he died."

"Okay, so what else did Cassidy find?"

"That was pretty much it. Think it's enough to catch us a mob boss?"

"I hope so. It's all we got."

==========

"Hey Mandy," said Ron Driscoll to his secretary as he entered his office the next morning.

"Hey boss. How's it goin'?"

"Good. Good," said Driscoll. He unlocked his door and stepped into the office quickly. He didn't turn on the light, instead leaving the room lit only by a small reading lamp on his desk. As usual, he planned on taking a small 15-minute nap before getting to work. He let out a soft grunt as he sat down in his chair and leaned back. The thought crossed his mind that groaning as you sit down has got to be some sort of indicator that you're getting old.

"Didn't get enough sleep last night?" asked a voice suddenly.

Driscoll looked up quickly and scanned the dark room frantically. He couldn't see anyone, but there were shadows everywhere.

"Who's in here?!" demanded Driscoll.

"I don't think we've officially met, Mr. Driscoll. The name's Oculus." As he spoke, Oculus stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the room and extended his hand to the Commissioner.

Driscoll jumped out of his chair immediately. "You! How'd you get in here?!"

"Not important," said Oculus, lowering his hand. "What is important is the message I'm here to bring you."

"And what is that?" asked Driscoll, trying hard to sound as intimidating as possible.

"That I know who you are. I know the life you've been leading for the last year and I'm here to tell you its over."

Driscoll's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you read the Bible, Commissioner?"

"Not since I was ten years old."

"There's a story in the Old Testament about an evil, corrupt Babylonian king. As he's throwing a huge party, a hand appears out of nowhere. The whole party stops and watches this disembodied hand as it floats across the room and starts writing on the wall. You have any idea what it wrote?"

"What?"

"That the king's reign was coming to an end. Consider me the hand of God, Commissioner. I will personally make sure this little crime spree of yours ends soon."

There was a short pause as Driscoll realized what Oculus was suggesting. Oculus took the opportunity to step over to the open window. As he put his first leg out, Driscoll finally responded.

"How dare you! There's only one criminal in this room and he's the one wearing a mask!"

Oculus looked back over his shoulder at Driscoll. "Commissioner, I learned long ago that a mask can be much more than the physical piece of equipment I wear. More often than not, it's a personality. And yours is starting to get much more transparent."

Driscoll started to answer, but Oculus jumped out the window and used his grappling hook to pull him up to the roof across the street. From there, he gave a quick wave to Driscoll before dashing away out of the man's sight.