Of all the operatives in the world, he was the best one they had. Some would call him the American equivalent of 007, but if you were to make such a comparison to his face, he'd laugh you out of the building. James Bond wished that he looked like Daniel Craig and could be as awesome as he was portrayed in movies. In every aspect of the job, he was truly James' superior. Suave, stylish, intelligent and one of the stealthiest secret agents in the world. Unlike that pansy Bond, his identity was a secret the world over, only known by the true elites and other organizations that may have sought his services. His name was David Steele, the best operative of the US intelligence community and world class spy. With a 100% mission success rate, there was little that Steele couldn't do. As they said in his world, when you wanted something done and done right, you went to David Steele.

The morning began the same as any other for David. Awakened from his slumber at precisely 7:30 AM, David took a 5 minute shower before enjoying a breakfast of toast and eggs with a cup of coffee. So far, it appeared that his schedule for the day was clear with no missions booked or assignments given out. Perhaps Steele could take advantage of this rare free day by getting in a hearty workout in his gym or maybe partake in more weapons training. It never hurt to stay on top of his physical and mental acumen. Deciding to hit the gym, David selected his favorite SMOOCH album to act as his workout soundtrack. He could easily knock out an hour or so with their music playing in his ear. Before David could begin his workout however, he received an incoming message from his superior, L. Marie, L for short.

"Paging Agent David Steele," L announced as David looked to his TV to receive her message, "I repeat, paging Agent David Steele, do you hear me, over?"

"L, it's the 2020s," David said as he accepted the call, "nobody uses paging anymore. Leave that stuff in the eighties."

"Save your snarky sass for later," L replied, "we have an important matter at hand."

"I figured that to be the case," David replied, "otherwise you wouldn't have called me." Taking a sip of his coffee, David continued "What's the sitch, L? Talk to me?"

"Our agency needs your help investigating a recent murder," L informed Steele.

"That's it?" David scoffed. "A measly murder? Shouldn't that stuff be saved for the local police or law enforcement or even the FBI?"

"In any other circumstances, you'd be correct," L admitted, "however, this isn't some ordinary murder we're talking about here."

"Who got put on ice?" David asked.

"Oh nobody," L said nonchalantly, "just US Senator Alan Montana."

"Montana?" David asked, "doesn't he have three sets of secret service and security on him at all times?"

"Did have three sets of secret service and security on him," L replied, "Montana was also eyeing a potential presidential run in the next election, having already begun the process of setting up a campaign."

"In that case, the list of suspects is endless," David told her, "for all we know, one of his colleagues in Congress could've been the one to set up the job."

"Exactly," L agreed, "however, while he did have plenty of enemies in Congress, he was low profile enough that I doubt anyone would put some consideration into actually icing him."

"It could've just been a robbery gone wrong for all we know," David pointed out. "The guy made a decent salary, lived quite the fancy lifestyle, and had to have had some valuables on him that someone might've thought worthy of stealing."

"We haven't ruled out that possibility," L told him, "however nothing appeared to be stolen from the Senator at the crime scene, not even so much as his shoelaces. If this was a case of stealing intel or other private data, there's no evidence supporting that theory either since everything he had on him was accounted for."

"The real question is how did someone manage to get Montana alone and away from his security long enough to kill him," David brought up, "and furthermore, why was he alone in the first place?"

"That's what we need you to figure out," L reported, "we're sending you to the crime scene right away with a fake ID and alias to see if you can uncover any clues."

"Sounds easy enough," David said, "with any luck, I'll have the perp apprehended by lunch."

"I already know you won't disappoint us, Steele," L said. As David turned to get prepared, L added "Oh, and one more thing. I know you prefer to work alone, but you'll be assigned a partner outside our agency for this case."

"A partner?" David scoffed, "are you kidding me?"

"Wish that I was," L replied, "but some private eye has also been assigned to the case and we aren't allowed to interfere with his investigation. Therefore, you two have been paired up together for this case."

David groaned and said, "The last thing I need is some gumshoe slowing me down. He'll only get in my way."

"Only if you let him," L replied, "Believe me, I'm not too happy about this either, but just try and coexist with this detective until we can solve this case and put whoever's responsible behind bars. After that, you two can go your separate ways."

"I'm a professional," David boasted with a confident smirk, "the last thing I'll do is let some bumbling detective slow me down."

Returning his smirk, L logged off their call with "I know we're in good hands with you, Steele."


On the outside, he was as stereotypical a detective as you could get. Dressed in a fancy suit with a black long coat and leather shoes accentuated by a bright pink tie and fedora, he looked like one of those old film noir detectives from pulp fiction stories and classic movies from the 40s and 50s. An old film noir detective who'd been displaced by time and looked out of place in the modern world of the 21st century. The only way he could look any more stereotypical would be if he wore a deerstalker and cape. One would be foolish to let his outwardly appearance deceive them however. This man was known far and wide as "The World's Greatest Detective".

Among his colleagues, it was joked that if Batman and Sherlock Holmes had a love child, he would be the baby. Although he wouldn't laugh or deride you for making such a comment, he couldn't be more disapproving of the comparison. With a 100% success rate of solving crimes and getting to the bottom of capers, he was the man to go to when you wanted to find information. No matter how secretive or well guarded it was, there was nothing he couldn't find out. Despite his steely and stoic appearance, he was a compassionate and kind man, offering to solve cases for free for his lower income clients and famously refusing to turn over evidence to police to cover for more sympathetic perpetrators. The last thing you could call him was a cog in the machine. He didn't serve the law, he served justice.

His name was Pinkie Kane and over the years he'd amassed a stellar reputation for being the best detective in the world. Never taking himself too seriously, once Pinkie was assigned a job, he wouldn't quit until he solved it. The private eye was completing his morning jog when he received a call from Commissioner Christopher Taylor.

"Commissioner," Pinkie greeted him. "Always a pleasure to hear from you. I take it you have another job for me?"

"You would be correct," Chris answered, "unfortunately this isn't your normal case either. This is a high profile murder."

"Oh?" Pinkie asked. "I take it you're referring to the murder of Senator Alan Montana?"

"How did you know?" The Commissioner asked.

"I have my ways," Pinkie answered. "I'll head back home and get dressed before I head over to the crime scene."

"Are you at all worried about the difficulty in this case?" Chris asked.

"Not in the slightest," Pinkie answered. "No matter what questions have been left by this strange murder, I'll get to the bottom of it and have the perp behind bars by noon."

"I appreciate your help, Kane," Chris said, "really I do."

"Don't mention it," Pinkie replied, "there's no case too great for the likes of me."

"Right…" Chris Said before informing Pinkie "Detective Kane, you're kind of going to be working with a partner for this case."

"The missus, huh?" Pinkie asked. "That's no problem. Me and Officer Lynn always work well together like peanut butter and jelly."

"Uhhh…" Chris said, "it's not Officer Lynn."

"Then who is it?" Pinkie questioned.

"Some federal agent by the name of Phil Wood," Chris informed him. "Since this case involves the death of a U.S. Senator, federal agents are required to get involved to try and solve it."

"Sounds like quite the nuisance," Pinkie retorted, "but as long as this Wood guy stays out of my way and doesn't step out of line, we should be okay."

"I already know this'll be another successful case for you, Detective Kane," Chris said. "Best of luck to you."


Neither Steele or Kane were the first to arrive on the scene. That distinction went to journalists Luan SC. and Joslyne C. Despite working in two different departments of the newspaper, both Luan and Joslyne got along well when it came to investigating stories. The story of the murder of a U.S. Senator was sure to generate a lot of buzz for their paper.

"Alright Jos," Luan said, "I'll get pictures of the crime scene, you see if you can find any witnesses to interview."

"Way ahead of you," Joslyne said as she started searching for witnesses.

Using her credentials, Luan was able to get past police tape long enough to snap some still photos of the senator's body. They were too gruesome to ever be published in the paper (uncut at least), but they could probably be of assistance to her favorite detective (and unbeknownst to the public, younger brother). Luan wasn't in forensics, but she could tell that while the Senator's death was swift, it certainly was a brutal way to go.

"Excuse me ma'am," said a voice as a man in all black with sunglasses approached her, "I'm afraid that you can't be past this point from this moment going forward."

"Just doing my job," Luan retorted, unamused by the man's attitude.

"Yeah," the man replied, "well now your job is to get out of our sight before we have a problem."

"Hey," David said as he arrived on the scene, "that's no way to speak to a lady."

"Sorry, Mr. Wood," the man apologized, "just wanted to make sure proper protocol is followed and the perimeter is secured."

"I perfectly understand," David replied, "but that's no reason to be rude. Go ahead and take a breather, I can handle things from here."

"Sorry about that," David said to Luan, "sorry about him, he's a bit too tense most of the time."

"I was wondering if a bug had crawled up his butt or something," Luan quipped. "Mind if I get your name, sir?"

"The name's Phil Wood," David introduced himself. "I'm with US intelligence and have been brought in to help solve this peculiar murder."

"Do you have any leads so far?" Luan asked.

"So far, no," David replied, "but when I do, I'm afraid that's classified information."

"Oh," Luan said, "well-,"

"I hate to cut things short," David said, "but I really cannot allow myself any further distractions." David then handed Luan a card and said "If you wanna talk more in private once this is settled however…"

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't flirt with my sister,"

Upon glancing in the general direction of the voice, David knew right away that he'd just been introduced to the detective who'd been assigned as his partner for this case. You couldn't get more stereotypical than this guy's get up. David internally groaned, knowing this mission just got even harder with the addition of this goober. Why did these things have to happen to him?

"And you are?" David asked as he met face to face with the man.

"Detective Pinkie Kane," Pinkie introduced himself, "private eye and investigator."

"I take it that you're my partner for this case?" David asked.

"That's correct, Mr…" Pinkie said, pausing to allow David to properly introduce himself.

"Wood," David said, shaking Pinkie's hand, "Phil Wood."

"Right," Pinkie said, glancing over David.

"Cut that out," David advised him, getting the impression that Pinkie was sizing him up. Not that it would do the detective any good if the two of them were to engage in a fight. Being a world class spy, David was trained in multiple forms of hand to hand combat. He could easily kill a man with his bare hands without breaking a sweat.

Pinkie merely shrugged and walked towards the crime scene. That brief interaction told Pinkie everything he needed to know about his partner.

"Can my partner and I see the cadaver please?" Pinkie requested.

"Why of course, sir," an officer replied before pulling the veil from over the body of the slain senator.

"Huh," David said as he and Pinkie took a good look at the body. There were no signs of a struggle or similar sort of scuffle that could provide a clue as to the cause of Montana's death.

No blunt force trauma, no puncture wounds, no bullet wounds, not even bruising around the neck to indicate something such as strangulation.

"If I had to take a gander," Pinkie spoke up, "I would estimate that our victim died some time between 10 PM and 1AM last night, given the lack of decomposition or bloating in the body. Rigor mortis has long since set in indicating some significant time has passed since the murder."

"Quite impressive, Sherlock," David quipped, "next you're going to tell me that he died of unnatural causes."

"Mr. Wood," Pinkie stated confidently, "please tell me what you believe is Senator Montana's cause of death."

"You just said there's hardly anything that can be used to indicate a cause of-," David said before Pinkie cut him off.

"Au contraire," Pinkie said, kneeling close to the body and gesturing for David to take a closer look with him. "Direct your gaze to the senator's right calf."

David did as instructed and asked "Is that a-?"

"Yes," Pinkie replied, "you'll notice a scuff mark on the hem of his trousers. Pull up the pants just slightly and you'll notice a small, almost unnoticeable scratch on his skin."

"So you're suggesting that he was in a brief altercation prior to his death?" David asked.

"No," Pinkie answered before instructing one of the forensics experts on hand, "swab that scratch on Montana's leg and send it to the lab for analysis."

"Yes sir, Detective Kane," the agent agreed as he followed directions.

"We need to have a word with the Senator's colleagues," Pinkie told David, "they may hold the key to breaking this case wide open."

"Since we're joined at the hip, I'll drive," David said, gesturing for Pinkie to follow him to his vehicle. "Don't get anything on my seats."

"I won't," Pinkie assured him.

Once the two were in David's car, they made their way towards the Senate to talk with some of Alan's fellow politicians.

"So what exactly were you getting at, back there?" David asked.

"Well David-," Pinkie said.

"It's Phil," David corrected him.

"Might I suggest that the next time you pick an alias, you don't pick one that's so blatantly obvious," Pinkie retorted.

"I don't know what you're talking about," David said as he kept a cool composure.

"David is a name whose meaning translates to "Beloved"," Pinkie pointed out, "while the name Phil roughly translates as "Lover of horses". Not the most obvious connection, but still having a theme of love."

David said nothing and kept his eyes straight ahead on the road.

"And honestly, Wood?" Pinkie scoffed, "the opposite of steel is usually considered to be wood. You were just asking to be outed."

"Really don't know what you're-," David said before Pinkie cut him off yet again.

"You're world renowned US Intelligence Agent, David Steele," Pinkie revealed, "I didn't have a face to match the name, but your identity was confirmed almost as soon as you revealed your name in addition to your occupation."

"How did you figure it out?" David asked.

"You don't get as far as you do in my business without picking up on cues and thinking off the wall," Pinkie replied. "I know you've probably written me off as just another bumbling detective, but please refrain from underestimating my intelligence."

"Hmm, not bad," David thought to himself before asking "So what were you surmising back there?"

"What I was suggesting was that while Senator Montana's death took place between 10 PM and 1 AM," Pinkie said, "his actual murder took place far earlier than that."

"What do you mean?"

"The scuff marks on his pants lend credence to the possibility of Alan being poisoned," Pinkie suggested, "likely by a slow acting neurotoxin. The scratch on his leg probably came from the pointed bottom of a shoe such as cleats or stiletto brushing up against him. That was all it took to inject the Senator with a lethal dose of poison. By the time he knew what was happening, it was already too late."

"So that's why you had his leg swabbed?" David asked.

"Yep," Pinkie confirmed. "Once we get the lab results back, we'll know for certain."

"Any idea on who a potential suspect could be?" David asked.

"In that regard, no," Pinkie answered. "The scuff on his pants could indicate a chance encounter between acquaintances, a bump and go, or a more "frisky" encounter if you catch my drift. The only thing it rules out is an upfront attack so there's no telling what could've happened."

"True," David acknowledged. "Couple that with the fact that Montana likely had an endless amount of enemies and there's no telling what went down."

"It won't take long before we decipher it though," Pinkie said confidently. "I have yet to meet a case I couldn't solve and I don't plan on failing today."

"Glad you have that attitude," David said, "because I don't plan on failing this mission."

David then added "Oh, and one more thing."

"Hmm?" Pinkie asked.

"Was that reporter really your sister?" David asked.

"Yep," Pinkie replied. "My older sister, Luan."

"So she got the normal name of Luan," David questioned, "and you got the name Pinkie?"

"My name isn't actually Pinkie," Pinkie replied, "everyone just calls me Pinkie because of my bright tie and fedora."

"Then what is your real name?" David asked.

Flashing a half smirk, Pinkie replied "That, my federal friend, is for you to find out."

"We're here," David announced as he parked his car. "Try to keep a cool, level head."

"You act like this is my first rodeo, Steele," Pinkie replied as he got out of the car.

The two crime fighters were evidently right on time given the number of senators gathered at the scene. It was apparent that they'd heard the news of their colleague's death. Given the dirty nature of politics, it wouldn't have surprised either David or Pinkie if one of these senators had a hand in Montana's death. Hell, it would surprise them more if one of them didn't.

"Excuse me gentlemen," a security guard walked up to the paid, "the two of you are going to need security clearance to proceed any fur-,"

"We're the investigators tasked with investigating the death of Senator Alan Montana," David said, flashing his pseudonym's ID to the guard as Pinkie presented his ID.

"Oh," the security guard said before apologizing and leading them inside, "my apologies. Right this way gentlemen, we've been expecting you."

"As you can expect," the guard continued, "Capitol Hill has been in a bit of disarray since the Senator's death."

"That many people mourning him, huh?" David asked.

"Quite the contrary," the guard replied, "most of the senate is waiting for this session to be over so they can go out and celebrate."

"I knew you made a lot of enemies in politics," Pinkie remarked, "but outright celebrating the death of a fellow senator?"

"Oh, you have no idea," the guard said, "even most people within Senator Montana's own party hated him. I'd imagine he's so disliked that celebrating his death is one of the few examples of universal bipartisanship these days."

"If that's the case," David said, "that leaves us with no shortage of suspects."

"That might be true," the guard admitted, "but a few staff could be able to point you in the right direction."

A woman called out from down the hall, "Keith, are those the detectives?"

"Hey Angela," Keith greeted her, waving back at him. "Yeah, this is them!"

"Alright," Angela said, "tell them I'll tell them whatever they need to know."

"Is that so?" David asked, dragging Pinkie along as they approached Angela. "Excuse me, ma'am, but would you mind answering a couple of questions?"

"Oh, not at all, dearies," Angela said before fully introducing herself. "My name is Angela Myers and I'd be happy to offer up any knowledge I have about my former colleague."

"Well first thing's first," Pinkie said, "we'd like to know your whereabouts last night between 7 to 9PM."

"That's easy," Angela said before answering "Last night was a school night, so I was with my daughter, Bonnie, taking care of her and making sure she had her homework done before tucking her into bed."

"Do you have anyone who can verify your alibi?" David asked.

"If you don't believe me," Angela said, "you can talk to my husband. If you check my cell phone records, they'll also confirm my whereabouts during the time frame given."

"What kind of relationship did you and the victim have?" Pinkie asked. "He doesn't seem to be particularly liked in these parts."

"And for good reason," Angela replied. "He was a pig and a hypocrite in every sense of the word. Thought himself the talk of the town when he was the town laughingstock, and not in the good way. There were even a few rumors about Alan having "exotic tastes", if you catch my drift."

"Sounds like he was a real piece of work," David commented.

"Oh, you have no idea," Angela confirmed. "He was all about granting favors to his unknown "friends". The man took so many bribes it was hard to keep track of them all."

"And just like that," David quipped, "even more people of interest."

"Do you think any of your colleagues would have the guts to actually take their disdain of their Senator to new heights?" Pinkie asked, having spent a majority of the conversation jotting down notes.

"I have no idea, honestly," Angela answered. "All I know is that I stayed clear of the guy and avoided even being in the same room longer than I had to."

"Thank you for your time," David thanked her.

"Hey," Angela said, "if you're looking for someone else to talk to, I'd point you in the direction of Senator Calvin Schultz. He managed to stomach being around our former colleague the most so he might be best able to help."

"Any idea where he may be?" Pinkie asked.

"Might be in his office," Angela informed the pair before giving them directions.

David and Pinkie were at the Senator's office in a matter of minutes. Much to their surprise, Schultz seemed to be waiting for them.

"Gentlemen!" Calvin enthusiastically greeted them. "It's about time you got here!"

"Um… right," David said, taken by surprise by the Senator's jubilant nature. "Well we're here to-,"

"Oh hush up boy," Calvin stated, "I know why you're here. Ole boy Alan dropped dead and you wanna find out who did the deed."

"You sure seem awfully apathetic about the death of your friend," David observed, prompting Calvin to burst into laughter.

"Friend?!" Calvin scoffed. "That snake in the grass was a lot of things to me, but a friend wasn't one of them!"

"Peculiar," Pinkie said, "Senator Myers said that you spent the most time with-,"

"Of course I spent the most time with Alan," Calvin replied, "we were on the same committee together and I was the only one who could put up with him for more than five minutes without having an aneurysm. I liked Alan a heck of a lot more than my colleagues and I absolutely hated that idiot!"

"I see," Pinkie replied, "can you tell us your whereabouts last night betw-,"

"Oh, cut it out," Calvin said. "I didn't kill that fool! If I'd killed ole boy, you'd know it because I'd be bragging about it. Heck, I'd even be giving interviews telling you how I did it."

"Really not helping your case here," David pointed out.

"Just saying," Calvin shrugged. "I swear that I didn't kill him."

"I hope your next defense is more convincing," Pinkie quipped.

"Look," Calvin said, getting serious. "I wasn't even in town last night. I was two states away. I had to ride Amtrak to get here this morning. When I first heard the news, I was through the roof, hence my reaction when you gentlemen knocked on my door."

"Do you have any proof?" David asked.

"My train tickets are right here," Calvin said, presenting the two crime fighters with a receipt that provided proof of purchase.

"Hmm," Pinkie said, taking a moment to inspect the tickets before telling his partner "These seem legit and the time of purchase seemingly confirms Mr. Schultz' claim."

"See?" Calvin replied. "Now I will drop you some info that could come in handy. Mr. Montana liked to spend his time at certain seedy lounges and hangouts."

"Oh?" David asked.

"Yeah," Calvin confirmed. "Bastard pushed for "family values", but spent most of his free time at strip clubs, tiddy bars, and upper class establishments. The only family value thing about him was how much he loved the ladies."

With a snicker, Calvin added "Don't know how much they loved him though outside his money. He was no Cool James, that's for sure."

"Do you have a name for any of these establishments that our victim liked to frequent?" Pinkie asked.

"A high class bar called The Mile High Club," Calvin informed the two of them. "It was his favorite go-to place. That's where he met most of his "dates". You're bound to run into someone who knows a thing of two."

"We'll keep that in mind," David said, "thank you for your time." David then nodded in Pinkie's direction and told him "Let's go."

"You sure?" Pinkie asked. "Seems a bit illogical to leave after only interviewing two people."

"I have a gut feeling about this," David replied. "Just trust me on this."

With a sigh, Pinkie replied "I suppose I have no choice."

"I know it's unconventional," David admitted, "but I have a strong hunch about this. Now come on, we're heading to The Mile High Club."


The Mile High Club certainly lived up to its reputation as a classy sophisticated bar. For starters, the place had a strict dress code as well as a two drink minimum. Drinks that cost a minimum of 200 dollars. Indeed it was clear that this wasn't the type of place any two bit good or horny fellow could just walk into. You didn't frequent a lounge like this unless you had some money.

Thanks to their suits, both David and Pinkie were granted clearance into the lounge (although Pinkie was forced to leave his signature trench coat at the door). Although the two of them were on a mission, the first thing that caught David's eye was the club's star singing attraction up on center stage.. A Latina beauty dressed in a beautiful red dress with her long dark hair flowing down her back, David couldn't help but feel infatuated by her. In a way more than just desiring to have her as a one night stand. The way her mesmerizing voice matched the ritzy jazz club playing in the background.

"I see you've taken a liking to Ronalda," the bartender teased David.

"Ronalda?" David questioned.

"Yeah," The bartender replied "She's quite popular with the patrons. Almost every man (and even a few of the women) have tried their hand at courting Ronalda. So much so, she has her own personal security detail."

"Is that so?" David asked

Pinkie gently nudged David in the ribs with his elbow, shooting him a look to silently remind him "We're on a mission, remember?"

David ignored him and continued chatting with the bartender.

"Yeah," the bartender said, "if you want, you can try your luck with her, but don't be surprised if she doesn't even let you close to the stage."

With a smile, David turned to Pinkie and told him "You carry on, I'm going to go do some investigating of my own. Ya know, since our victim might've been the reason she has a security detail."

Pinkie rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink, a non alcoholic cherry leaf tea as David made his way towards the stage.

"He thought he knew who love was

Till he fell in the arms of the other extreme"

Ronalda spotted the suave David Steele approaching the stage. His striking hair and entrancing eyes immediately catching her attention. Ronalda waved off her security team as she allowed David to get an upfront personal seat to her performance.

"But who's to say change can't be made

It's your world and tomorrow's not guaranteed"

Ronalda winked as she continued singing. The attraction between the two was mutual as David seemed completely engrossed by her singing. The super spy would have to be careful not to blow his cover. This beauty in front of him certainly made it difficult though.

"Don't want a car, without the keys

Give me the bowl, 'cause baby, a bite's just a tease"

Ronalda reached down and stroked David's chin with her finger while ruffling his white hair while David in turn blew her a kiss. Watching this unfold from the bar, Pinkie merely sighed and took another sip of his drink while keeping an eye out for his surroundings.

"It's like sweet sweet candy rum lemon drops

What good's the bottom without some on top?"

"Give me everything or nothing,

Give me everything or nothing at all

Everything or nothing

Nothing less than everything at all"

"I'm certain that I could give you everything you desire and more," David flirted, prompting Ronalda to blush bright red and put her hand to her cheek.

While David was showing his game, Pinkie was insistent on continuing their investigation.

"What's with you, pal?" The bartender asked him. "You don't look too happy to be here."

"Oh, it's nothing," Pinkie said, half joking. "Just a little bitter about having to leave my coat at the door."

"I'd imagine," the bartender said, joking "You know, just between you and me, that coat kinda made you look like a movie character."

"So I've heard," Pinkie said before asking "Mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"You're not trying to get the place shut down, are you?" The bartender asked.

"Not at all," Pinkie replied before explaining "My questions regard one of your more frequent clients."

"Oh?" The bartender asked.

"I was told that Senator Alan Montana was a frequent client of this establishment," Pinkie started.

"Oh god," the bartender groaned, "not him."

"So you are familiar with him?" Pinkie asked.

"Way more than I'd like to be," the bartender answered. "The creep scared off half of our showgirls. Half of the half that didn't get scared off filed restraining orders against him and the other half of that just bared through it."

"Sounds like he wasn't too popular here either," Pinkie observed.

"Understatement of the year," The Bartender replied. "It's amazing we managed to keep Ronalda around. Somehow she made it through Alan's relentless flirting with her. Me and some of the girls would bring it up to management, especially the ones who had restraining orders, but nothing would ever be done since the scumbag brought in a heck of a lot of money."

"Tell me more," Pinkie said, taking notes.

"He was terrible," The bartender said, "but he was good for business. Sometimes he brought in high profile "friends" to party like animals, but even when he was by himself, he seemed to have infinite pockets of cash. For every girl or even client he ran off, he'd end up spending thrice as much revenue as we'd make on a single night."

"Do you have any idea who these high profile "friends" were?" Pinkie asked.

"No clue," the bartender replied. "They were usually a revolving door of faces… not that I could blame him. Alan may have had a handsome face, but his heart was rotten and revolting to the core. Why do you ask?"

"Because," Pinkie said, "Mr. Montana is dead and my partner and I are trying to find out who did the dirty deed."

"Well dang," The bartender said, "you might as well look into any of the staff here that isn't management."

"Yeah," Pinkie muttered, nodding his head, "yeah, I was pretty much expecting that."

Meanwhile, David was continuing to talk it up with Ronalda.

"I see you enjoyed the show," Ronalda observed.

"What can I say?" David replied. "I have an appreciation for talent."

"Maybe you can come back to my dressing room where we can have more of a heart to heart…" Ronalda offered.

"Well, if you insist," David accepted her offer.

Ronalda led David to her dressing room, a rather lavish room furnished with a bed and mini fridge to make for a comfortable experience.

"Tell me," Ronalda said, "What brings you around these parts?"

"Investigating a murder," David answered truthfully, much to Ronalda's surprise.

"A murder?!" Ronalda exclaimed. "Was it? Was it… one of the other girls?"

"No," David quickly answered. "But rather someone who may have harassed you and your friends in the past."

"That… doesn't narrow it down," Ronalda said.

"Senator Al-," David started to say before Ronalda interrupted.

"That son of a-," Ronalda exclaimed with glee. "He's dead?"

David nodded.

"I know I shouldn't celebrate a man's death," Ronalda said, "but I couldn't be happier. That jerk wasn't just a pain in the neck, he was a genuine menace!"

"Oh?" David questioned.

"He'd never miss an opportunity to feel up and grope any of the girls present," Ronalda informed him. "Sometimes he'd even force them to kiss him. He tried pulling that on me before I broke his nose."

"I'd say he got off lucky when it came to you," David said.

"Yeah," Ronalda said, "he threatened to have me arrested, but nothing ever came of it. I told management that if something wasn't done, I'd walk out. That's when they gave me my security detail."

"I'm sorry," David apologized. "I'm sorry that you had to deal with that."

"It's not your fault," Ronalda said, "if you think I did it, I can tell you that I didn't… but I'm glad that puta isn't around anymore."

"Do you think one of the former showgirls could've had something to do with Alan's death?" David asked.

"I don't know," Ronalda replied, "but whatever the case, I can say that he had it coming."

"Do you need help with anything?" David asked. "I can provide you with counselors and therapists who can lend you-,"

"Thanks," Ronalda said, "but no thanks. I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" David asked.

"I'm positive," Ronalda said as she unzipped her dress and kicked off her high heels, "but maybe you can help me in another way."

With a smirk, David asked "What did you have in mind?"

Ronalda said nothing and pivoted her head in the direction of her dressing room bed.

"So I know you said the victim's "friends" were a revolving door," Pinkie said, "but surely there had to be at least one recurring member of the Senator's entourage."

"None that I-," The bartender said before taking a moment to think. "Well actually, there was one woman I saw with Alan a few times."

"Oh really?" Pinkie asked.

"I don't know how she stood the guy," the bartender said, "I figured she had to be sleeping with him to put up with him for so long, probably for his money, but even that seems like a stretch."

"And how many times did you see this woman?" Pinkie asked.

"At least three or four times a month," The bartender revealed. "Not every time Al came into the lounge, but frequently enough that I can remember her face."

"Do you know this woman's name?" Pinkie questioned.

"Nope," the bartender replied, "never got it, and she never paid for her own drinks so I don't even have a credit card to match her to."

"And when was the last time you saw this woman?" Pinkie asked.

"Just last night actually," The bartender recalled, causing Pinkie to raise an eyebrow.

"Does this place have security cameras?" Pinkie asked.

"We're one of the ritziest joints in town," The bartender answered, "of course we have security cameras."

"So it's possible that you caught this mysterious woman on tape?" Pinkie asked. The bartender nodded, prompting Pinkie to ask "Could you show me the footage from last night?"

"Absolutely," the bartender replied before calling out to his coworker. "Boris! Cover for me, will you?"

Boris nodded as the bartender led Pinkie to the back.

"So here's the footage from last night," the bartender said as he showed Pinkie everything the cameras had captured the night before. "Since 24 hours ago, I don't think it'll take you long to find- there she is."

"That her?" Pinkie questioned, pointing to the blonde woman on screen.

"Yeah," the bartender nodded. "Yeah, that's the two of-,"

A gunshot rang out, prompting Pinkie to instinctively drop to the ground. Looking up, Pinkie found the bartender slumped over the computer screens, a clean bullet wound in the back of his head.

"Crapbaskets!" Pinkie muttered under his breath as he looked around. His instincts proved correct as a hail of gunfire followed. Pinkie toppled over some heavy equipment and pulled out his pistol as he took cover.

"The heck was that?" David asked as he rose from Ronalda's bed.

"What was what?" Ronalda asked.

"It sounded like gunfire," David answered as he rolled out of bed and got dressed.

"A shooting?" Ronalda exclaimed.

"Seems like it," David said, instructing Ronalda "Stay here where it's safe, I'll be back."

"Come back to me!" Ronalda yelled after David as the latter ran out of the room topless and barefoot.

Pinkie could see two assailants in the doorway, both of them armed with automatic weapons. He would have to be careful and time his shots if he wanted to make it out alive. The lobby of the lounge had cleared out with people screaming and running for their lives. The first assailant stopped to reload his weapon, giving Pinkie the opportunity to land a shot right between his eyes. The other assailant was smart enough to reload from cover and blindly fired into the security room.

David ran into the lobby to find it swarmed with gunmen. Less than David was used to facing with there only being six or seven assailants, but that still provided some trouble for the secret agent. David had the element of surprise as armed with his signature blaster, he managed to take out two of the gunmen immediately. This of course made him the target of some of the gun men.

Pinkie meanwhile, spotted a weak spot in the remaining assailant who had him pinned down. With precision aim, Pinkie kneecapped the gunman, causing the man to fall to the ground, blindly spraying his weapon. Pinkie ducked his head, but when the gunfire ended, Pinkie ended him the same way as his partner with a clean gunshot between the eyes.

Pinkie then ran out into the hallway where more gunmen were waiting. Pinkie quickly slid into cover to avoid more gunfire. Pinkie still had 8 bullets left in his pistol before he had to reload. There were only two or so gunmen he had to deal with, something that could be done with general ease.

Pinkie shot at a light fixture above the two assailants, sending shards of hot glass raining down upon them. The two gunmen hissed in pain as they were burned and cut from the falling glass, giving Pinkie the opportunity to take them down with a shot to their chest and stomach respectively. Not giving the men a chance to fire back, Pinkie proceeded to double tap them with a headshot to both of them.

There were now only two gunmen left, both of whom were contending with David. Thanks to his signature weapon, David was easily able to take down the assailants. Once the dust had settled, David and Pinkie were left standing in an empty club surrounded by the corpses of unknown attackers.


"I can't believe you were getting dirty while we were on official business," Pinkie scolded David as the two stood outside the Mile High Club.

"Hey, I was getting us some answers!" David defended himself.

"Is that how all the operatives at your agency get intel, Wood?" Pinkie quipped.

"Are you two okay?" Officer Lynn asked as she tended to Pinkie, noticing that Pinkie had sustained some minor injuries from the shootout.

"I'm fine," Pinkie replied. "I apologize in advance for all the paperwork you're gonna have to fill out for this crime scene."

"I'm fine with that," Lynn stated. "What I'm most concerned with is your safety. You know I worry when you get in situations like this."

"And again, I apologize," Pinkie stated calmly, "but this is the life I signed up for in hope of doing the world a greater good."

Lynn sighed and ruffled Pinkie's hair "You're too idealistic for your own good sometimes."

"Hey," Pinkie defended himself "you're no better than me given your line of work."

Lynn sighed, chuckled and admitted "Fair enough."

"Excuse me, Agent Wood, Detective Kane," Joslyne said, "I know this is a bad time, but can you care to tell us what exactly went down at this club?"

"We ourselves don't exactly know what happened," David admitted. "If I had to take a guess, I'd say it was related to our investigation, which means we're on the right path."

"Have you made any progress in the case?" Joslyne asked. "Any major suspects lined up?"

"That information is confidential," David told her. "We appreciate your enthusiasm, but we're not allowed to speak on current ongoing investigations."

"Understandable," Joslyne nodded her head. "Man, Luan is going to be mad that I beat her to this scoop."

"It is a bit odd that Luan isn't here," Pinkie thought to himself. "Normally she'd be all over a story like this."

"Detective Kane," Lynn called over to Pinkie. "You've got a call from the lab."

"Quicker than I expected," Pinkie remarked. "Tell the coroner I'll be right there."

"Remember what I told you," Lynn called out to Pinkie as he and David climbed into the latter's vehicle. "Come back in one piece!"

"Have I ever broken a promise to you, officer?" Pinkie called out before David sped off.

After a few moments of awkward silence, David spoke up "Okay, I know you're probably pretty miffed about what happened between me and Ronalda, but…"

"Oh, I'm over it," Pinkie replied, taking a sip from his thermos.

"I got some-," David said before double-taking "What?"

"I understand your profession as a federal agent," Pinkie said, "you probably have a variety of different ways to get information."

"Oh," David said, "well, I'm glad you understand."

"You might be pleased to hear that I might've found our prime suspect," Pinkie informed him.

"Is that so?" David asked. "Who are we looking for?"

"Monica Diaboli," Pinkie informed him.

"The toy developer?" David asked. "Why would she-?"

"Don't know," Pinkie answered, "but it's our job to find out why. It would certainly explain why assassins crashed the bar shortly after we got there."

"So in a twist," Pinkie admitted, "turns out your gut feeling was right."

"Told you not to doubt me," David gloated.

"I can acknowledge when I'm wrong," Pinkie admitted before taking a sip of his drink again.


"So what have you got for us, Ella?" Pinkie asked upon arriving at the lab.

"Well Detective Kane," Ella said as she pulled out Alan's body, "it turns out that you were onto something."

"Oh?" Pinkie asked.

"Turns out that our victim was indeed poisoned," Ella confirmed Pinkie's theory, "those scratches on his leg was all it took for the toxin to get in his bloodstream. I'd guesstimate that it took about two or three hours for the toxin to slowly shut down his organs and halt his breathing. I also found traces of cocaine and alcohol in the victim's blood, meaning that he would've likely written off the effects of the poison as part of his high. By the time he realized the truth, IF he ever did, it was far too late for him to seek treatment."

"So what kind of poison was it?" David asked.

"Still trying to figure that out," Ella said, "whatever it was, it was potent enough that a drop small enough to fit on a pin tip would've been enough to do him in. Given the amount I found in Montana's system, whoever killed him wanted him dead."

"Well we do have a suspect in mind," Pinkie informed her, "but as with procedure, I can't exactly divulge that information."

"Perfectly understandable," Ella said. "On that note, curse you once again Pinkie."

"What did I do?" Pinkie asked with the tone of a child who'd just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"I owe the commissioner money now," Ella replied. "He bet that you'd have a suspect within twelve hours of being assigned the case. I figured it'd take at least a full day."

Pinkie smiled at her and remarked "You should know better than to doubt me by now."

"I've never doubted you," Ella retorted, "just that you continue to surprise me."

"Hopefully we'll be back soon, Ella," Pinkie told the coroner, "with the perpetrator of this crime safely locked up behind bars where they belong."

Once they were back in the car, Pinkie asked David "I need you to hack into Senator Montana's phone," Pinkie handed David a slip of paper and told him "Here's his number."

"Do you just assume I have super hacking skills?" David asked, sounding offended, "Like seriously, how many movies have you watched? You think I can just get into any computer or electronic device in the world with only a phone number and email address?"

"Umm-," Pinkie said, dumbfounded.

"That I can just click a few buttons and," David said before saying in a mocking tone "TadA! It's open!"

"I apologize," Pinkie said, "I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't and you were actually right to think that," David said, pulling out his own phone and putting Senator Montana's number in, "but still, it's wrong to make assumptions."

"Oh," Pinkie deadpanned.

"How the hell did you even get the Senator's number anyway?" David asked.

"David," Pinkie deadpanned again, "this isn't the first time I've worked with the government. Truthfully, I know how to get practically everyone's number. I could have the President on speed dial if I wanted to."

"That's…" David said, "huh."

After a few seconds, David told Pinkie "I'm in."

"Thanks," Pinkie said, "Lemme see your phone for a second."

"What are you looking for?" David asked, handing Pinkie his phone.

"Already found exactly what I was looking for," Pinkie informed him. "Found a few emails between Montana and Monica Diaboli, spanning over the course of a year."

"What are the emails about?" David asked.

"Just your typical lobbying stuff," Pinkie replied, "plus apparently Miss Diaboli was trying to get a few trade embargoes lifted. For what purpose, I don't know."

"Report your findings to your boss," Pinkie instructed David, "take me to my house, I need to do a little further digging."

"I hope you're not trying to upstage me," David said.

"Justice never sleeps, Mr. Steele," Pinkie retorted.

"You really did just step out of Casablanca, didn't you?" David quipped.

"Just drop me off at home," Pinkie said, "and try not to get into any trouble in the meantime."

"Don't worry about me, Sherlock," David remarked, "I'll be just fine."

After a half hour drive, David dropped Pinkie off at his home before receiving a call.

"Hello?" Said the voice on the other line, "is this Phil?"

"Ronalda?" David asked in surprise.

"Our talk kinda got interrupted by the shootout," Ronalda said, "and since I'll be off of work for the next couple of weeks thanks to said shootout, I was hoping that maybe you and I could pick up where we left off."

"Sure," David accepted, "why of course."

"I'll send you my address," Ronalda said, "oh, and leave your stuffy partner behind. I don't need him getting in the way."

"Oh trust me," David said, "I had no plans on bringing that stick in the mud along. He'd just cramp my style."

"Glad we could reach an agreement," Ronalda said, "I'll see you soon."


Never missing an opportunity, David arrived at Ronalda's apartment in less than twenty minutes. Adjusting his bow tie and spraying himself with a small dab of perfume as he knocked on the door, David was surprised when he was greeted by Ronalda dressed in nothing but lingerie.

"Surprised to see me like this?" Ronalda teased.

"Maybe," David replied, "but I can't say I'm disappointed."

"I thought you'd say that," Ronalda replied with a wink. "Come inside, let me make you a drink."

"Shaken, not stirred," David said half jokingly.

"It must be tough being a big federal agent and everything," Ronalda said, making sure she stayed in plain sight as she prepared a drink for herself and David, "life always in danger, never having a day off, always having to look over your shoulder at every turn."

"Meh," David mumbled, "you get used to it after the first five years."

"I don't know if I could ever get over a life like that," Ronalda said, "it's just too high a risk for me. The stakes just seem like too much."

"I won't lie to you," David told her, taking a sip of his drink, "the job isn't all rainbows. Sure, it's fun sometimes and you look cool doing it, but you've always got someone who's after your neck."

"I don't know how you do it," Ronalda complimented him, "I mean, I still haven't gotten used to the leery eyes I get working at the Mile High Club."

"I'd imagine that would be rather troublesome for a beauty like you," David complimented her.

"You flatter me," Ronalda said, "but you're right. A lot of men like Al only view me as a plaything, something for their eyes and sometimes hands." Ronalda chuckled and remarked "At least the girls are gentle most of the time."

David nodded his head empathetically.

"Tell me," Ronalda said, "how did Al die? Was it painful for the jerk?"

"Poisoning," David revealed, "as for whether it was painful, I can't say for sure. The bloke was so high off his gourd, he probably didn't realize he was dying until his lungs stopped taking in air and his heart stopped working."

"Ugh!" Ronalda groaned, "It sounds too merciful for a man like him."

"If it's any consolation," David said, "from what I heard, given the type of poison it was, in Alan's last few moments, he undoubtedly felt more afraid than he'd ever been in his entire life. "

"That thought does bring a smile to my face," Ronalda replied.

"Well I can't say he didn't deserve it," David told her.

"No, you can't," Ronalda said, "but how about I give you what you deserve?"

"What do you have in mind?" David asked.

"Just picking up where we left off," Ronalda said, "if you smell what I'm cooking."

Grabbing David by his tie, Ronalda led him away to her chambers.


"How do all those boys at the station manage to drink so much coffee?" Pinkie wondered as he scrolled through Montana's emails and online database via his computer. "The stuff tastes so black and bitter."

"Maybe Luan was right," Pinkie thought to himself, "maybe I should see that doctor about my insomnia… but then again, this does help me with solving all the cases I'm assigned."

Pinkie switched over to his laptop to switch things up, having been roaming through Ms. Diaboli's emails.

"Nothing really here," Pinkie remarked, "most of the same messages as the Senator's. Lemme switch back to his info real quick, maybe I can- Whoa!"

"Looks like I found the real reason for Montana and Diaboli's relationship," Pinkie observed, "and I think I found the smoking gun that'll blow this case wide open. I have no doubt in my mind that Monica Diaboli is indeed the suspect we're looking for."

"Just to be on the safe side," Pinkie said, "let me just double check Diaboli's-," The private eye certainly wasn't expecting to stumble across the information he found, prompting him to exclaim "Holy cow…"

"I've gotta call Steele and warn him," Pinkie exclaimed, grabbing his phone and dialing David's number. David's phone rang and rang, but Pinkie got no answer as the device went to voicemail. Pinkie frantically dialed the number two more times, but got the same result.

Pinkie sighed and exclaimed "Dang it, Steele, I told you to stay out of trouble." as he grabbed his coat and headed out the door.

"Good thing I put his phone on my phone's find my phone app," Pinkie thought to himself, "I just hope that nothing bad happened to him."


"I've gotta say, David," Ronalda said, fixing her hair as she cuddled next to David in her bed, "you really know how to rock a woman's world."

"Thanks, I-," David said before double-taking, "What did you say?"

"I said-," Ronalda said before realizing her gaffe.

"I never told you my real name," Pinkie pointed out, "so how did you?"

Ronalda sighed sadly and explained "I'm sorry it came to this. In the short span I knew you in person, I really did come to like you. I feel we could've been something more."

"But why?" David asked, "scrambling to climb out of bed."

"You really fail to understand how big of a monster Alan Montana was," Ronalda explained. "Like I told you, management never did anything to stop him or hold him accountable. He was a rich and powerful man and he brought in a lot of money, so everything he did got swept under the rug."

Ronalda paused before revealing "Even after he put my friend Sidney in the hospital."

"Sidney?" David questioned.

"She's my coworker and a really close friend of mine," Ronalda revealed, "as much as Alan liked me, he really had a thing for Sidney. He wasn't just infatuated with her, he was obsessed with her. He just had to have her."

"Sidney's a sweet girl," Ronalda continued, "she could be a bit naive and overly trusting, but even she knew when to say no, even she knew how to get someone to back off. Al didn't like that… so one night he followed her out back and…"

Ronalda got choked up before continuing "He beat her senseless. The poor girl was left with a fractured orbital bone, two dislocated ankles and a broken arm."

Ronalda's distress turned to anger as she explained "Yet still, management refused to do anything about it. The cops swept the incident under the rug and made sure the commissioner didn't catch wind of it. That monster got away with everything again."

"That's when Monica Diaboli came in," Ronalda revealed, "she saw how Alan harassed me and the other girls. She'd been working with him for some time and she offered to make that particular problem of mine evaporate into thin air."

"So Diaboli really did kill Montana?" David asked.

"That's right," Ronalda confirmed, "she said it was her favor to me, but like every favor… it came with a price."

"And that price was killing me?" David asked.

"No," Ronalda replied, "the price was that I now owed her a favor in return. When Miss Diaboli heard that you and Kane had been assigned to the case, she figured it was only a matter of time before you visited the Mile High Club looking for answers. I was just supposed to distract you long enough for her hitmen to get the jump on you."

"So all of this was a lie?" David asked.

"No!" Ronalda insisted. "Like I said, I really did like you. No, I really do like you! I didn't want it to come to-,"

Ronalda didn't get a chance to finish before being interrupted by a hail of automatic gunfire.

"Get down!" David instructed her, pulling Ronalda to the ground.

"What's going on?" Ronalda asked.

"If I had to take a guess," David said, "I'd say that you've outlived your usefulness to Ms. Diaboli."

David pulled a dresser in front of himself and Ronalda as bullets flew through the door and walls, slowly chipping away at the two's cover. David had left his phone in Ronalda's kitchen and his signature blaster was on the other side of the room. He likely wouldn't be able to get to it without being struck by the gunfire. Being caught like this with his trousers down really wasn't the best look for him.

"Steele, you son of a-," Pinkie muttered as he arrived on the scene and heard the sound of gunfire.

Pinkie made sure he was not only equipped with his standard M1911, but with his backup Deagle as well as enough ammunition to help him out. Just like at the Mile High Club, residents of the apartment complex were fleeing for their lives.

"And he thinks I'm the idiot," Pinkie couldn't help but be frustrated at his partner's shenanigans.

Pinkie quickly scaled the multi story staircase, making sure to keep an eye on any resident that ran past him. He could never be sure that one of them wasn't working for Monica.

It didn't take long for Pinkie to find Ronalda's apartment. You really couldn't miss it given there were ten hit men clad in black posted outside the door, firing like madmen inside the apartment. Ducking down to avoid being seen, Pinkie got into a crouched position and lined up six perfect head shots.

"One, ni, tres, quatre, cinque, six," Pinkie counted the shots, directing the remaining four hit men's attention to him.

"Kill this idiot!" One of them yelled as they all simultaneously opened fire in Pinkie's direction.

Pinkie was too slow ducking to the ground and took a bullet to the arm. Pinkie hissed in pain as he struggled to keep his balance and fell back. The private eye caught himself as he rolled onto his stomach.

Meanwhile inside Ronalda's apartment, Pinkie's presence had provided a long enough distraction for David to scramble to the other side of the room and pick up his blaster. David quickly set his blaster to "electro-gun" settings and scrambled into the hallway, where the hit men quickly reset their sights on him. David was quicker on the trigger however and in the form of arched lightning, all eight hit men inside Ronalda's apartment were electrocuted and rendered to a charred crisp.

There were still four hit men stationed outside and they were advancing in Pinkie's direction. Things weren't looking good for the detective. Fortunately, David came to his rescue just in the knick of time, using his blaster to electrify two of the hitmen. That gave Pinkie a large enough opening to take down the last two hit men with two well placed shots.

"This is the second time today I've seen you half, or in this case, fully naked," Pinkie remarked, "I'm starting to become convinced that you could be trapped by a box held up with a stick that was marked "Free action here"."

"Nice to see you too," David replied sarcastically before telling Pinkie, "well I now have concrete proof beyond a shadow of a doubt that Miss Diaboli is the one we're looking for."

"So do I," Pinkie replied, "complete with evidence that can lock away Miss Diaboli for a long time."

"I suppose all that's left is tracking Monica down and taking her into custody," David said.

"Given how she apparently has multiple teams of hit men at her disposal," Pinkie pointed out, "that'll be easier said than done."

"I know," David said, "but it's not impossible." David then gestured to Ronalda and said "Also, we need to take her with us."

"Are you out of your mind?!" Pinkie retorted. "This woman led you into a trap and is working with the woman we're going after and you want to bring her along?!"

"Was working with Monica," Ronalda emphasized.

"Monica either decided that Ronalda had outlived her usefulness," David informed him, "or she decided that she didn't want to leave any loose ends."

"I can see that happening," Pinkie admitted before giving in, "alright, she can come with us, but for the love of God, could you please put on some pants now?"

"Right," David said, "I'm on it."

While David was retrieving his phone and getting dressed, Pinkie received a text from Joslyne that sent chills down his spine.

"Have you seen your sister? She never reported back to the Bugle and no one's seen her since this morning? Is she with you?"

"Oh no," Pinkie muttered, prompting Ronalda to ask "What?"

At just that moment, Pinkie received a phone call from an unknown number.

"Detective Pinkie Kane speaking," Pinkie answered the call, already knowing who was on the other side.

"You and your partner have done quite a bit of snooping as men in your profession tend to do," Monica said.

"I don't have time for games, Monica," Pinkie said harshly, "Where is my sister?"

"Oh, you men are all the same," Monica bemoaned, "your sister is just fine, but you and I have business to discuss."

"Well I'm here," Pinkie said, "What are your demands?"

"I know you've figured out that it's me who's behind the murder," Monica said, "and now that your idiot partner is dead, all that's left is dealing with you. Bring all the evidence you've collected and come alone to the aquarium. Be here within an hour, otherwise your sister will take a fatal dip."

"I'll be there," Pinkie promised, hearing Luan in the background yell "James, it's a trap!"

"I know," Pinkie said, "but I'll do anything in my power to keep you safe. I'll be there in thirty minutes, Diaboli."

"Hope to see you soon," Monica said before signing off.

Meanwhile inside Ronalda's apartment, David was finishing getting redressed when he heard a faint beeping. The agent's eyes widened in horror as he ran out of the apartment and quickly tackled Ronalda and Pinkie to the ground, yelling "Get down!"

Ronalda's apartment went up in flames in a massive explosion, destroying whatever was left inside. It was clear beyond a shadow of a doubt that now there could be no turning back. Monica Diaboli had to be taken in once and for all.


"So I've finally figured out this whole mystery," Pinkie said as he drove the trio to the aquarium.

"You mean why Monica murdered Montana?" David asked.

"That and their entire relationship," Pinkie said before explaining, "Diaboli is most well known for her toy company, making many of the market's best selling kids toys and accessories. That's not to say there haven't been some controversies regarding the testing of rather dangerous prototype toys."

"I think everyone knows that fact," Ronalda said from the backseat.

"True," Pinkie acknowledged, "but what you probably don't know is that many of those 'defective prototypes' weren't created by accident or defects at all. Because they weren't toy prototypes."

"What do you mean?" David asked.

"In addition to developing toys, Diaboli industry has secretly been building weapons and engaging in illegal arms trafficking by disguising said weapons as children's toys," Pinkie explained, "that made it easier to slip them past customs. Diaboli was being investigated for those suspicions, hence why several embargoes were placed on several of their products coming from overseas factories."

"Where does Alan factor into all of this?" Ronalda asked.

"Well an American company being accused of arms trafficking and war profiteering tends not to sit well with Congress," Pinkie explained, "so a federal investigation was launched. By moseying up and sweet talking our late corrupt Senator, Monica was able to somehow get him to shut down all the investigations into her company. Heck, she even got Montana to overturn some of the embargoes placed against her company."

"Of course," Pinkie said, "for a woman like Monica, people only serve as pawns and as soon as she has no use for them, as evidenced by the attack on Ronalda's home, she disposes of them like used tissue paper. While Montana certainly could've been a useful tool in the future, he was also a blabbermouth and a loose end at that. Anyone who did enough digging could uncover Monica's scheming. So she called the Senator up for a date."

"During which," David pieced together, "she brushed her stiletto heel against Montana's leg, injecting him with the neurotoxin with just a scratch and went about her night knowing the Senator was a dead man walking."

"Yep," Pinkie confirmed, "and with that out of the way, all she had to do was erase the last person who knew of her connection to the murder in the form of Ronalda."

"The lady's got charm," Ronalda admitted, "She tells you what you wanna hear and then snaps your neck when you're least expecting it."

"Indeed," David said, "but since she thinks Pinkie is the last of us remaining, it gives us the chance to get the jump on her."

"Speaking of Pinkie," Ronalda said before turning her attention to the private eye, "I've been meaning to ask, why do you seem so serious all the time? I mean, even at the Mile High Club, you barely cracked a smile. I thought that a place like that-,"

"I'm gay," Pinkie answered, immediately knowing what Ronalda was actually trying to ask.

"Really?" Ronalda and David asked in stereo.

"Yep," Pinkie replied. "Been married for six years to a lovely man named JP that I met while on a case."

"Huh," Ronalda said, "learn something new every day."

"So what's the plan?" Pinkie asked David.

"You go in to confront Monica," David laid out, "while me and Ronalda stay posted outside and keep an eye out for anyone we see trying to crash the party."

"Sounds good," Pinkie said, "I know this is a trap so keep an eye over me." Pinkie then handed Ronalda his Deagle and asked her "You know how to handle a piece?"

"I deal with creeps, perverts and bullies on a regular basis," Ronalda answered, "of course I know how to handle a piece"

"Alright," Pinkie said, taking off his trenchcoat and leaving it behind as he stepped out of the car. "We've come too far to fumble now."

"You're awfully nonchalant about potentially walking into your own demise," David commented.

"You and I are quite alike, Steele," Pinkie replied, "just like you, I've been in my fair number of life or death situations."

With that said, Pinkie marched towards the entrance of the aquarium, thinking to himself "Just that this is the first time someone's had the nerve to bring my family into this."

In a display of anger, Pinkie thought to himself "It is something that I'll make sure Monica pays dearly for."

As to be expected of an aquarium after closing hours, the building was dark and devoid of life. Of course, that didn't slow Pinkie down from finding Monica and her henchmen.

"No death squad to greet me at the door?" Pinkie mocked Monica as he stepped into view. Looking down on him from a high perch with a lone spotlight shining on her was the culprit behind this entire adventure. "Have you even read the villain handbook?"

"You'll be six feet under soon enough," Monica replied, flanked by four of her henchmen, "I want to savor this moment."

"Before we go any further," Pinkie said, "where is she?"

Monica rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers. The lights sprang to life, revealing Luan tied up and dangling upside down over a large tank of electric eels. The photojournalist was unconscious, causing Pinkie to seethe with anger.

"I'll hand it to you," Monica said, "you made it here before I got bored and decided to turn your sister into fish food, but now that I've shown you what you wanted to see, now show me what I want."

Carefully using his uninjured arm to reach under his vest, Pinkie revealed a USB drive and a dossier loaded with all evidence of the toy maker's evildoing.

"Here it is, Diaboli," Pinkie said, "all evidence linking you to both the Senator and his murder are on this drive and in this folder."

"Pat him down," Monica instructed two of her underlings.

Two underlings emerged from the shadows and approached Pinkie. The latter outstretched his arms as far as he could and allowed the criminals to pat him down. When their search found no weapons, one of the crooks snatched the dossier and usb drive from the detective and held them up for Monica to see.

"I really must thank you for your cooperation, Kane," Monica said, "but it's time for you to sleep with the fishes as well. Bring Mr. Kane up here so he can be close with his sister one last time."

With a gun pressed up against his back, Pinkie was led up to Monica's level.

"Tie him to his sister and dunk them in the tank together," Monica instructed her henchmen.

"You know," Pinkie said, gun still pressed to his spine as he held his hands on the back of his head, "destroying that dossier and flash drive aren't going to solve anything."

"What are you talking about?" Monica asked in confusion.

"Digital file sharing still exists, dummy!" Pinkie retorted before smirking at Monica, "Did you really think I'd come here without passing the information to every law enforcement agency I knew."

Partaking in uncharacteristic gloating, Pinkie proclaimed "You're done for, Diaboli! Even if you kill me, there'll be nowhere for you to run! I'll be waiting for you in Hell."

"Why you-!" Monica snarled, losing her temper and reaching for her own handgun to shoot Pinkie dead.

Before she got the chance however, glass shattered as the empty tank behind her fell apart, a wave of water washing over her, her henchmen and Pinkie.

"Show's over, Diaboli!" David proclaimed as he and Ronalda made their presence known.

"Steele?!" Monica exclaimed in shock. "I left you incinerated in that apartment! How did you survive?"

"You really are as stupid as you look, aren't you?" Ronalda quipped.

It was at this point that Luan started to come to. The photojournalist quickly realized the situation and called out to her brother.

"Pinkie!"

Ignoring Monica, Pinkie sprang into action, running towards the tank Luan was dangling above. Getting a running head start, Pinkie grit his teeth in pain as he leapt off the edge, grabbed a hold of Luan and, in one swift motion, used his injured arm to snatch off his fedora, revealing his pistol hidden underneath. Still in motion and having plenty of momentum, Pinkie shot the rope holding Luan, with aforementioned momentum allowing Pinkie and Luan to safely land on the other side of the tank.

"Are you okay?" Pinkie asked as the two of them sat up. The private eye began untying Luan's arms and wrists.

"I'm fine," Luan insisted before noticing Pinkie's injured arm, "What about you? You're literally bleeding."

"I'll be fine," Pinkie insisted. "I'm just glad you're alr-,"

That was as far Pinkie got before being shot in the back by Monica. The detective let out a short and pained gasp as he fell forward and lost consciousness.

"You b-!" Luan yelled before picking up her brother's firearm and unloading at Monica.

While none of the shots landed, it did provide David a chance to catch up with the villain.

"It's the end of the line, Diaboli," David told her, "try to at least lose with some dignity."

"If I'm going down," Monica declared, "I'm taking you down with-,"

David quickly kicked the gun out of her hand and retorted "You were saying?"

"Ha!" Monica scoffed. "Do you think I'm scared of you? Surely a gentleman like you wouldn't hit a lady."

"He might not," Ronalda said before knocking Monica's lights out with a straight kick to her face, "but I will!"

"That felt strangely anticlimactic," David commented before shrugging and saying "but I'll accept this as a mission accomplished nonetheless. Now I just need to call in some friends of mine to help clean up and take Diaboli into custody and I'll have wrapped things up."

"You might want to call an ambulance while you're at it," Ronalda said, pointing over to Luan who was crying as she cradled her brother's unconscious body.

"Mrs. Luan," David said as he approached the young woman.

Luan looked up, tears in her eyes as David reached down and checked Pinkie's pulse.

"Your brother's going to be alright," David assured her, "he's still alive and while the wound he suffered is quite severe, he'll pull through as long as he's treated fast enough. You don't have to worry about that as a team of paramedics are already on their way."

"You're…" Luan said, "how can you be so sure?"

"We met before, but allow me to reintroduce myself," David answered Luan's first question. "US intelligence agent David Steele and yes, I promise you that your brother's going to be just fine. I won't let anything else happen to him.

Luan was unsure, but nodded in understanding.


"Yes, it was a chaotic scene here at the aquarium," Joslyne reported as she typed up her story on her laptop, "as you can see by the swarm of police cars and unmarked federal vehicles on the scene. In a shocking revelation, toy maker and Chairwomen/CEO of Diaboli Industries, Monica Diaboli has been arrested and being held on charges of illegal arms dealing, fraud, racketeering, multiple counts of attempted murder and one count of first degree murder in the death of US Senator Alan Montana."

Joslyne looked over to her colleague, who still seemed shaken by the experience as she added "Miss Diaboli is also charged with the kidnapping of my coworker and fellow Bugle reporter Luan Stein-Crawford. In this time of grief, Mrs. Crawford asks for privacy regarding the matter. We wish her the best and hope to see her on the scene sooner rather than later. I'm Joslyne Curie and this is The Scoop."

"An excellent job once again, Agent Steele," L complimented David via communicator watch. "I see that gumshoe didn't slow you down at all, huh?"

"Quite the opposite actually," David replied, "he ended up being a huge help to solving the case."

"Interesting," L said, "never thought someone like him could help you, but I suppose it's not the strangest thi-,"

"What's his status?" David asked.

"Do you mean "Is he going to be alright?"," L asked to which David nodded.

"He'll survive," L informed him, "but it's likely he'll never be able to walk again."

"Dang," David muttered.

"However," L said, "since you reported that he was of good assistance to you, we'll make sure that his needs are met and his home is accommodated for his new handicap. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you'd taken a liking to Detective Kane."

"Don't be ridiculous," David scoffed, but his eyes told everything.

"Our agency may just have a place for him," L continued, "if he accepts our offer, he could make for a wonderful addition to our staff. Of course, his new job would be behind a desk and I don't know how he'd feel about such a change, but the offer will be on the table."

"And what about Ronalda?" David asked.

"She, Kane and Mrs. Crawford are gonna to have to be placed in protective custody leading up to and during Ms. Diaboli's trial," L revealed, "since Kane and Crawford are siblings and Kane, as mentioned previously, could become one of our new agents, they and their families will be kept together and assigned the same team. As for Miss Ronalda however…"

"What are you planning, L?" David asked.

"Since I know you've taken quite the liking to her," L said, "she and her friend Sidney will be assigned to your protective custody."

"Yes!" David muttered excitedly under his breath, prompting L to remind him "I heard that!"

"And Miss Diaboli?" David questioned.

"If convicted, which we'll make sure of," L said, "she'll spend the rest of her life behind bars. There is one thing that's baffling me though…"

"What's that?" David asked.

"Exactly how did Miss Diaboli stay under our radar for so long?" L pondered. "I'm aware that there was a federal investigation ongoing, but your bringing this to light was the first time we ever heard of this happening."

"So what are you thinking?" David asked.

"What I'm thinking is that Miss Diaboli is only one component of a web of deception," L replied.

"Whatever's going on," David said, "you know I'll get to the bottom of it."

The End?

"Boss, Ayo boss?"

"Yes, Clarence?"

"We've got some bad news."

"What kind of bad news?"

"Miss Diaboli got pinched."

"What?! You're kidding me!"

"I wish I was, boss, but it's in all of the papers."

"What did she even do to get pinched?"

"Something about trying to start an arms race and profit off of it, I wasn't really paying attention."

"And who took her down?"

"You've got three guesses, Boss."

"Alright… I see I've let this spiral out of control for too long. It's time we crossed paths face to face, Agent Steele. Clarence?"

"Yes Boss?"

"Schedule a few meetings for me. It's time I nipped this in the bud."

"Yes, Mr. McCann."

First complete story of 2022 and not to toot my own horn, but I don't think I did a pretty bad job. As mentioned before, this is the first of a three part trilogy set in Raven's new David Steele AU. Tried to keep it as PG as possible while keeping it in vein with the PG-13 spy thriller action/noir mystery movies that inspired this story. Work on a sequel has already begun and I hope that you, the reader, enjoyed this wild ride. Hope not to disappoint with the next installment. Until next time, y'all take care!