Thanks for the reviews, folks! DragonCat wins the useless prize for guessing the bizarre lineage I'm using. And don't think that's the end of it; but at least the next one I may mention would possibly be the fault of Imajine.

Again, the more reviews, the better the authoress feels like finishing the story. I'm a total review whore. The title for this chapter comes from the Japanese band, The Pillows. Enter the sinister plot points!

Torukia

Chapter 3: The Scar whispers, Nobody is in Paradise

Soundtrack: Death Cab for Cutie- Brothers on a Hotel Bed

Naomi Kyle, a.k.a. Neon Spider, had expected Orin West to draw away after asking such a question, or look at her in horror. She wouldn't have minded, really- her hands were already bloody to the world. And this was family; the only family she had.

But this young man had a grim little smile that told her he'd already been down this line of thought. "I'm not sure. We can't discuss this here."

She nodded, slightly confused. Was this really the Orin West her sister had spoken so fondly of? She'd described him as a clumsy, simple guy- not someone who'd be party to an execution. But, she mused, tragedy changed people.

After being introduced to the nurses on call as Marcia's 'stepsister' to avoid suspicion, she had been given Marcia's personal affects. The armor and weapons were NSA issued, and Orin put those aside, mentioning something about homing beacons. But like the rest of the human race, Agent Lee had a few things that she kept that the NSA hadn't given her: A gold locket that had been their mother's, an electronic notepad and holo-album, and small silver bracelet that the doctors had to cut from her arm during surgery. Orin looked quite upset over the bracelet's two melted ends.

Neon pretended not to notice him pocket it.

She hated hospitals, and waiting here next to her sister only reinforced the fact. They reminded her of the time before she was Neon, back when she was the one dealing with the government, not Marcia. "I'm the one who's supposed to die a young, dramatic death, Marcia, remember? You're the one who's supposed to go one become president of the United States and really stick it to the world that bad girls can make good-and maybe get me a pardon. Mom doesn't need to see you yet."

She flicked through the holo-album on Marcia's e-pad. "Hey, you kept that picture of me dressed as a flower for Halloween? I thought I told you to burn that." Her finger hovered over the 'erase' button, but thought better of it. She flipped through the rest. They looked so much more alike as children. Did moving away change them both physically as well as mentally? If-no, when, Marcia woke up, she'd ask about it.

She paused at a picture of Orin- well, Agent West- falling headfirst into a pile of boxes, and snickered. "Now that's what I expected would happen when you were going to introduce me to West. Not discuss payback plans over your hospital bed." She clicked onto the next picture, of Marcia and West in civvies. "Nice to see you two don't do everything on the government payroll." She turned to West, who'd just walked in.

"Huh?"

Neon failed to muster a smile. "Just talking to Marcia. So…when can I pay back the bastard who did this?"

The smile that eventually graced her face was downright frightening.

West tried his best not look over at the hospital. The doctors said Lee was stable and recovering well. But he still couldn't help but worry.

Neon sighed from the other side of their table at the Groundwire. "I don't like leaving her there anymore than you do. But he's still out there, isn't he? That bastard… Krank, was his name?"

"Krick." West pulled up the flat screen monitor between them. "Lee-I mean, Marcia tracked him and a compatriot down to these warehouses in Dorchester. Someone must have tipped them off, because when her team moved in to surround…"

"They were ambushed, and my little sister was tortured and raped." Neon shot West a look. "I know that pattern of assault- Break the legs so they can't run away, break the arms when they try and fight back, break the jaw so they can't scream, and then have your way with them." She looked away. "S-someone threatened to do it to me once."

Orin could take a guess. "She didn't deserve this."

"Nobody does."

He nodded. "The NSA thinks that Krick probably ran onto one of these three ships that left the harbor that night. Two of them had ties to Brother's Day, the organization that he seems to be playing ball with."

Neon shook her head. "I don't think he moved at all. Look at the manifests of all of the ships- oil, foodstuffs and magway equipment. All three of those require thorough checks before they dock at any port- they're the worst manifests to attempt to smuggle stuff through." She saw the look of confusion on West's features. "I went completely over your head, didn't I."

West ducked his head. "Sorta. How'd you know all that?"

She grinned, and Orin realized that Lee had the same smile. "Orin, I live in a city that has a four hundred year history of smuggling- and is currently designated a no-man's land. You kinda pick it up quick when it's going all around you."

"Um, you can call me West. I'm not too fond of Orin."

"Why? It's a better name than most."

"The only time it's been used in the past five years has been when my bosses have decided to yell at me."

Neon winced to hide a grin. "Ouch. Ok, West. So where else can the bastard be?"

Well, that just killed the only happy feeling I've had since this started. "Well, the op was to encircle these six warehouses. They found Lee and her team here." West tapped the screen on the farthest right corner.

"So, ten to one these two are where we'll find him."

"Yeah, the last thing you want to do is leave your bloody mess where someone could actually find some evidence." West cringed after a moment at his own words.

Neon took no notice. "So, how soon can we get out there?"

West wasn't listening. He'd just noticed a peculiar couple walk up the hospital steps, a blonde girl and tall black hair man who'd just conveniently changed into a doctor's outfit when they passed behind a bush. "Actually, we could start right now… Marcia's got some friends to watch over her now."

Agent Bennet was a professional, and knew that despite his wishes, he would have to ignore his gut instincts of following Agent West to Boston. They had a job to do here in Louisiana, and despite the occasional glances from Rush and the others, he knew his team was aware of this as well.

That professionalism didn't mean he had to inform his superiors about it. He was prepared to quietly let West do what he needed to and then come back- and take the days out of his sick or vacation days. And no one would be the wiser, otherwise. Or at least he thought.

It had been two days since West had left, when Lemak called with their instructions and intelligence on the Brother's Day cell they were tracking. But then, the senior agent gave Bennet a look that told him something else was in those orders that neither he or Lemak would approve of.

"Bennet, I hate to inform you of this, but Agent Lee…"

"I know, sir. I found out two days ago."

"Ah. I'm not going to ask how, Bennet, since it makes my life a little easier. However, I need you to make sure that Agent West stays in sight at all times. He is not to engage with Brother's Day if at all possible. I wouldn't be surprised if he gets reassigned within the next 24 hours."

Bennet knew the color was draining from his face, whether he wanted it to or not. "Sir, that not…"

"Look, this isn't any of our decisions- this came from the very top. Look at it this way, Bennet, he won't be your problem anymore-"

"Sir, that wasn't what I was trying to say. What I meant to say that it is impossible for me to keep Agent West in sight. He took a leave of absence two days ago. That's how I knew of Agent Lee's condition."

Lemak did not look happy. "And you let him?"

"I didn't have much choice. Orin West has power of attorney over Marcia Lee's medical status, and he turned in his badge and gun. Legally," Bennet stressed the word, "I had no ability to stop him."

"Damn. Understood, Agent Bennet. I'll inform the superiors- expect a transmission from them in due time about this."

Bennet sighed. "Understood." The screen blacked out.

Agent Jackson looked over from his terminal and frowned. "That's odd."

"What is, Jackson?"

"Well, why would they put West on lockdown? Krick may have a personal vendetta against Lee, but he doesn't have any reason to go after West. And Brother's Day shouldn't have any reason to target him."

Bennet glared at the younger agent, despite the point he was making. "Perhaps they're worried what West might attempt to do to Brother's Day, Agent Jackson."

Jackson frowned. "Maybe, maybe not. Something's fishy about all this." He tapped away through several personnel files the flashed on screen. Bennet really needed to rethink that evaluation… "West isn't the only one being put on lockdown, sir. Ten other agents are as well, without a word a why, as of the failed op two days ago."

That peaked Bennet's curiosity. "Any connection between the agents?"

"Not really, sir; they're all different departments, ages and backgrounds… except…" The program scanning the files finished running, blinking the word 'match' onscreen. "That's weird. The only connection is that they were all recruited under the now defunct the Foster program that Agency ran a few years ago."

"…As were Agent Lee and West. It could mean nothing, Jackson."

Jackson cocked an eyebrow. "Sir, permission to speak freely?"

"This isn't the army, Jackson, but go ahead."

"Bullshit, sir, and you know it."

Agent Bennet had to concede, at least silently. What was going on here?

Heheh. Cue the dramatic music! For some reason I've determined Jackson is actually trying to get himself fired so he can stop wearing bell bottomed suits. He's based of every single Computer Science major I knew in college. Rush so wants to jump him.

Maybe I should reveal that Bennet is really the son of the Question. I'm kidding!

Reviews make the world go round. Honest. Or the footnotes will kill the next chapter.