Chapter 4: As events unfold

"There's daggers in men's smiles" – William Shakespeare

It had been a long day for Chase, he met his new partner, solved his first case, and even had his first shooting. He thought about the images he saw in his near-death experience, and there was only one thing they had in common: Marshall was in them. This made him realize that he truly loved the dally, more than he'd ever hold possible. Silvex had just dropped Chase off at his house and continued back to the precinct to work on finding the missing pup. Chase wanted to help, but Silvex insisted he needed some time alone. Silvex, of course, had no clue that Chase wasn't alone at home. As Chase opened the door, he was greeted by a smiling Marshall who hurried out of the kitchen.

"Hey babe, how was work?" Marshall said as he leaned in and kissed his mate. He immediately backed away though, after smelling the gunpowder on his fur. "What happened?" With that one question, Marshall unleashed a flood of emotion erupting from Chase:

"I SHOT someone! I had to take a life!" Chase screamed as he started crying. Marshall proceeded to hug him, trying to comfort his mate.

"It's okay, I'm sure you had no other choice. I know you wouldn't just take a life without cause" Marshall said as he took his mate to the couch. "Now you better cheer up, I made us dinner"

Chase didn't resist as Marshall put him down on the couch. The dally turned on the TV and gave the remote to Chase before heading to the kitchen. Marshall stayed away for quite a while, but Chase didn't really notice. He kept reliving that moment when he pulled the trigger. How he felt the kickback, how he heard the gun ejecting the shell casing, how he heard said shell casing landing on the floor, how he smelled the smoke coming from the barrel, and most of all, how Marcus stumbled back with that look of complete surprise in his eyes. But then his subconscious heard a name he hadn't heard in two years. Being in his deep state of thoughts, his mind went back to simpler times, when the name of that company, Moon Enterprises, was the only thing a certain mixed breed could talk about. Well, actually, there was something else he wouldn't shut up about: How awesome Zuma was. It was clear as day how Rocky felt about the lab, it was like what he felt for Marshall, only he faked a crush on Skye to cover it up. He snapped out of his thoughts and looked up to the TV, the source of the aforementioned name.

"During the press conference that ended mere minutes ago, we have received confirmation that Moon Enterprises CEO Lewis Night is retiring." the news reporter said

"Moon Enterprises, isn't that the company Rocky was obsessed with?" Marshall said, nearly giving Chase a heart attack. Marshall had returned when Chase was focused on the TV, so he hadn't noticed his mate's return.

"Yeah, I wonder what became of him." Chase said as he relaxed again.

"We will now go to Ronald, our man at the Moon Enterprises HQ." the news reporter said. The screen then changed, showing a man in a raincoat with an umbrella standing in front of a huge office building. After a brief silence, the man spoke:

"Thank you, Angela. Yes, I am at the HQ of Moon Enterprises, and we have just seen Mr Lewis leave the building for the last time, after shaking the paw of his replacement. Yes, the new CEO is indeed of the canine species. Because Mr Lewis doesn't have an heir or any remaining family he would entrust with his company, he left it to his second in command, the CFO, Rocky Greene" Ronald said

For a minute, both pups' brains froze as they tried to process this news. Marshall was the first to react to the news:

"ROCKY IS THE NEW CEO?!" Marshall yelled

"Wow, he really arrived, to say the least." Chase said, grinning as he shook his head.

"Well, I'm happy for him. But I'm even happier to be here, with the pup I love" Marshall said as he kissed Chase. They kissed for a while until the dally broke away for air. "Come on, dinner's ready"

It was yet another rainy day in Rotterdam, and the mixed breed didn't like it one bit. In fact, he hated water, and in Holland, there was certainly no shortage of it. But he stayed here anyway. Maybe it had something to do with the Dutch people taming the sea and creating land where water once flowed freely. He was loyal to Night's company, which had just become his. Yet, he still saw it as Night's company, and part of him thought that's why Night left it to him. Moon Enterprises was the leading expert in most fields, from medicine to military hardware, and now he was put in charge. His predecessor had offices build around the world, and it's net worth quickly reached up high into the billions. And now it was all his.

Just yesterday, he was promoted CEO after his predecessor retired. And now, he had it all, wealth, power, influence. But there was one thing missing in his life: a mate. Preferably a certain water-loving Labrador pup. It's strange, the only one Rocky has ever had feelings for, loved the thing Rocky was most afraid of. He'd tell everyone that he doesn't like to smell like wet dog, but that's a lie. Sure, he didn't like the smell, like any other dog. But unlike most dogs, every time he got wet, he would get flashbacks to the worst time of his life. Just thinking about it made Rocky's knees tremble and his face twitch.

"Uhm, Mr Greene?" Rocky snapped out of his thoughts, awakened by a voice coming from the intercom on his desk. Rocky walked over towards it and pressed the button that allowed him to talk back.

"Yes, Trisha?" Rocky answered. Trisha was his assistant, and one of his best friends. She was a good looking female golden retriever, but their relationship was one of friends and co-workers. Most would think an assistant like that would at least be sleeping with her boss, but their relationship was different. In fact, Trisha was the only one in the company who knew Rocky was gay, and she protected her boss' secret with her life. Being the first living being Rocky trusted since the end of the PAW Patrol, he had told her about his crush on Zuma one night after a few too many drinks. Rocky didn't remember most of what happened in that bar, but what he did remember was Trisha offering to help him in any way she could. And last week, before Rocky knew he would become the new CEO, or even that the old one was retiring, Rocky had asked her to look into Zuma, to see where Rocky's crush ended up.

"I managed to find Zuma, he's working as an NCIS Special Agent." Trisha said

An NCIS Special Agent? Why does that sound so hot all of a sudden?

"Do you know where he is stationed?" Rocky asked

"For as far as I can tell, he moves around a lot." Trisha said.

"Do you know where he is now?" Rocky asked.

"He's currently staying in a hotel in Boston, but I doubt he'll stay there for long." Trisha said. "According to his file, he is actively tracking a serial killer."

"Wait, isn't NCIS personnel data highly classified?" Rocky wondered out loud.

"Not if you're the personal assistant of the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company that employs a virtual army of hackers." Trisha answered, which made Rocky grin. "His target is known as the Port to Port killer, or PtP for short."

"Do we know where this killer strikes?" Rocky asked If we find the serial killer, we'll find Zuma!

"Well, as his name suggests, he kills one victim in a port before moving onto the next port. We know Zuma is in Boston, and we know the serial killer kills once in the port of each major city on the east coast" Trisha summed up "So if we take all that into account, I think it's safe to say Zuma will be in Coastal City somewhere in the coming weeks"

"Coastal City, are you sure?" Rocky asked with a noticeably surprised voice

"Yes, is that surprise I hear? What is so special about Coastal City?" Trisha asked. "Have you been there?"

"No, I have never been there, but some of my former teammates have. I have been tracking some of them, and for as far as I can tell, Marshall, Chase and Rubble are all in Coastal City" Rocky said as he was browsing through his computer's files. "Ah, found it!" Rocky opened a folder of digitally saved newspaper articles. "Chase was recently promoted to the rank of Detective, Marshall is the chief of the fire-fighter station and apparently," Rocky then quoted the headline of the article about Rubble: "Rubble Wreckage, aka Trubble, was arrested for 43 counts of second-degree murder"

"Rubble's nickname is 'Trouble'?" Trisha asked

"No, it's just his name with a 'T' in front of it, quite clever actually." Rocky said. "Do we have any offices in Coastal City?"

"No, sir" Trisha replied instantly, with full confidence. Trisha was the kind of assistant that knew everything about the company, which is one of the reasons Rocky chose her.

"Then I think it's about time we do, let's see what we can find there." Rocky said. "Is there anything on your list of prospects?" Rocky asked, referring to the former CEO's list of companies and initiatives that seem to either have the potential to improve the world or make a big profit. This list was compiled by Mr Night himself and left to Rocky, who gave it to his assistant.

"Only a small research group named BlueWater. But it was shut down two years ago." Trisha replied. "Huh, that's weird. Apparently they were government-funded, but there's nothing about them online."

"Can you tell what Mr Night's interest in them was?" Rocky asked.

"It would seem he acquired some of their research after the government shut it down." Trisha answered. "I'm sending you the file now."

A slight ping on his computer informed Rocky that he had received a new message, along with a file, named 'Project Homicidam Donari'.

"In the file, you'll find everything there is to find about BlueWater group, but there isn't anything about the project itself, other than that the government deemed it too dangerous and disbanded the research group. But according to Mr Night's notes, he believed that the BlueWater purge was flawed and that the research wasn't entirely destroyed." Trisha reported. "But I can't seem to figure out what they were working on."

"Keep looking into it." Rocky said "If Mr Night was interested in it, then so should we be. In the meantime, let's look into the option of setting up an office in Coastal City"

"Should we contact Mr Night about the project?" Trisha asked

"No" Rocky's answer was firm and clear. "He just retired and left the company in our hands. We should be able to handle a little investigating. Please prepare a list of potential ventures in Coastal City for me, and gather everything we have on that project."

"I'm on it" Trisha replied "Good night, sir"

Silvex didn't know what to do, he had looked at everything. There was not a single piece of evidence in the disappearance of Jessie, except for the bullet in the dead guy's head. But it would take forever to get the bullet looked at by the forensics department, and Silvex didn't have that kind of time. He was out of options, there was only one thing he could do, and he sure didn't like it. Silvex got up from his chair, instinctively having his tail between his hind legs. And with that cowardly position, he walked straight for Captain Xavier's office. When he reached the door, he hesitated. He didn't like or trust Captain Xavier, and asking for Xavier's help went against almost every belief that Silvex had. He was about to turn tail and go back to his desk when he remembered why he went to ask for help in the first place: the life of an innocent civilian was in his hands. So, after swallowing a combination of anger, resentment and fear, he knocked on the door and awaited a response.

"Come in" Captain Xavier's voice came from inside the office, upon which Silvex did just that.

If Captain Xavier's office had to be described in one word, it would be 'spartan'. It was a spacious room with a desk, two chairs in front of it and a desk chair behind it. There was also a couch without any decorative pillows, as well as several filing cabinets around the office. Those cabinets no doubt hid a lot of police files, as well as a hidden bottle of something strong. Behind the desk, there was also a window overlooking the precinct's parking lot.

Silvex closed the door behind him and took a seat at one of the two chairs. He was clearly uneasy being there, and he had no doubt Xavier would be able to tell. Xavier, on the other hand, was noticeably surprised to see him.

"Sir, I know we haven't exactly been friendly towards each other, but now there's too much at stake to let a petty rivalry stop us" Silvex started saying his mentally written and practised speech "I need your help. We have a missing canine, and I need to find her."

"Is this about the Jeremy Griffin murder?" Xavier asked carefully, to which Silvex replied with a nod, before continuing to ask: "What do you need?"

"I need you to make this case a priority in the forensics department, there's a bullet waiting to be processed there." Silvex said. "It is currently the only lead we have."

"I'll make it happen, is there anything else you need?" Xavier asked as he took his phone from his desk.

"Nothing other than a rush job on that bullet." Silvex said as he got up.

"You'll have the results within the hour." Xavier said as he too got up. "I hope we can work together in the future, and that we will see eye to eye" he walked towards the door and opened it for Silvex. "I'll tell Rachel to give the results to you directly"

"Thank you, Captain." Silvex said as he walked out. When he heard the door close behind him, he sighed.

This won't end well…

Early in the morning, something happened in a port in the vicinity of Boston. A murder. And not just a regular murder, but a brutal one. To make matters worse, the victim was a Navy SEAL. Those elite soldiers are some of the best in the world, yet this one was cut down with ease. Just like the other victims of the feared PtP-killer.

Because the first victim was an officer in the Navy, NCIS had full jurisdiction over the case, but that meant that they also had the responsibility to catch the PtP-killer. Which is why they sent one of their best agents to investigate. This agent just so happened to be a certain chocolate-brown Labrador.

Zuma had tracked the PtP-killer from the very beginning, but it was only after the third murder that he managed to determine the serial killer's pattern. Ever since he's been trying to beat said serial killer to the ports, but each time he failed. He came real close to catching his target in New York, but he somehow got made before the killer struck. He still wasn't sure how.

But this time, following the pattern, Zuma made his way to Boston, only to hear on the police radio that a body had already been found. After hearing this, he quickly made his way to the port, hoping that the cops were either mistaken or that it didn't fit the MO, but upon looking at the body, he knew he had missed the PtP-killer once again.

"Well, that makes eight" Zuma thought out loud. His eyes had quickly traced the specific wounds the PtP-killer always inflicted: a deep cut to the throat and the clawed-out eyes. At first, he wasn't sure about the order in which those wounds were inflicted, but after seeing how ruthless his target was, he had no doubt that the eyes would be clawed out while the victim could still feel it. If that was before or just after the throat-cutting, he didn't know, but he suspected the latter.

Looking around, he saw that none of the cops guarding the yellow tape had noticed him yet, even though he just sneaked onto a high profile crime scene.

I should make a note of that, not that it matters much.

"Excuse me, who are you?" a man asked as he walked up to Zuma. He was wearing a cheap suit and had a detective badge on his belt. "And just what the hell are you doing at my crime scene?"

"I'm Special Agent Zuma Shade." he said as he flashed his badge. "I was tracking a serial killer here when I heard you call this…" Zuma said, pausing as he gestured at the body surrounded by a massive pool of blood. "…mess in. It looks like my guy has come and gone"

"My apologies, sir, anything you need." the detective said as he backed away.

"Don't worry, I'm done here anyway. Tell your CSI teams to search for evidence, but I doubt you'll find anything" Zuma said as he turned around in the direction of the port's parking lot where his car was parked. "He's far too good for that"

Zuma started walking to his car, while several thoughts passed through his mind.

I can't believe I missed him again. If I hadn't been delayed in New York I might've gotten here in time. Speaking of New York, how the hell did he know I was there? Could I be compromised? Does he know my identity? And if so, why didn't he take me out?

Zuma then suddenly stopped in the middle of the pathway, his eyes wide with realization.

What if he only kills people in uniforms? It would fit with every murder up to this point. First, there was the Naval officer, who was uniformed. The most recent victim, the Navy SEAL was also wearing a uniform. As were all the victims in between. I need to write this down.

He quickly continued walking down the pathway, albeit a whole lot faster than before. When Zuma arrived at his car, he opened it with the remote he had in his backpack, before quickly taking a seat in the driver's seat. He then took his tablet from the glove compartment and unlocked it by letting it scan his paw. The first thing he did was write down his new theory and immediately synced the file with the cloud-based version. It may not have been standard NCIS protocol, but should something bad happen to him, a scenario that isn't too farfetched when one is tracking a serial killer, then he would want someone to be able to catch up quickly.

The next thing he did was pull up his tablet's navigation app, on which he looked up the next major city on the PtP-killer's probable route.

So far he's killed in every major port along the east coast, and if the pattern continues, it would put his next victim in… Coastal City. So that's where I'm going.

Zuma then put his tablet back into the glove compartment and started his car. After a quick glance at his car's fuel gauge, he drove off, heading north.

Silvex, being the workaholic that he is, was still at the precinct. He may have been waiting for ballistics, but that didn't mean he just sat there doing nothing. Whenever he found himself without leads, or in this case, waiting to hear back on one, he would always investigate the victim or victims themselves. How to do that? By cyber stalking them. Since Jeremy Griffin didn't have much of a social media presence, Silvex quickly moved onto his sister's profile, which was filled with posts and pictures about basically everything.

Most of those pictures and posts didn't give him any useful information, but thanks to her profile he did learn that she was unemployed and currently enrolled in an online course to become an electrical engineer.

"Beep-Beep-Beep" Silvex's phone started ringing.

"Hello, this is Silvex." Silvex said as he answered it, hoping that it was the ballistics department with the results he had been waiting for.

"Heya Silvex, it's Rachel." Rachel said on the other side, fulfilling Silvex's quiet wish.

"Ah, Rachel, nice to hear from you." Silvex replied. "What can you tell me about that bullet?"

"Well, the bullet is American" Rachel said "And it has been fired from a Beretta 96 Brigadier"

"That's great Rachel, thanks a lot." Silvex said as he ended the call. He quickly grabbed a pen and wrote the gun's name down in the file that was lying open on his desk.

A Beretta? Well, whoever it is, he knows his guns. Maybe he's a pro?

"Beep-beep-beep" Silvex's phone rang again

"Yes?" Silvex answered it, a little less attentive than the last time.

"I wasn't finished, Silvex." Rachel said

"Oh, my apologies then." Silvex said, quickly shifting his full attention to Rachel. "What else do you have?"

"Well, nothing important" Rachel replied sarcastically. "Just the name of who was once arrested with the gun that fired the bullet. So, do you want to hear it or should I just hang up?"

"Just say it, Rachel." Silvex said, he wasn't in the mood for games, and his voice made that quite clear to Rachel.

"Aw, you're no fun." Rachel said with a faked pouting voice, before switching back to serious. "There's good news and there's bad news. The good news is that you'll know where to find him. The bad news is that you put him there. The gun's previous owner is Rubble Wreckage. Enjoy your visit, Silvex" Rachel said as she hung up before Silvex could even process the sentence.

Oh crap, of course, it had to be him. There's no way Rubble will talk to me, not since I put him away like Rachel said. I'm the only reason he's been arrested

Silvex started to lose hope. But then he remembered a conversation from earlier that day, in which he and Chase had briefly discussed Rubble.

Maybe that if I bring Chase, he could convince his former teammate to talk. Or, judging by that look on his face earlier, torture a confession out of him.

Silvex laughed internally at his own bad joke, before picking up his phone and dialling Chase's number.

After the news about Rocky's rise to power, Chase and Marshall left the living room and went to the kitchen, where they enjoyed the meal Marshall had promised Chase earlier that morning, a time that seemed like ancient history by now, for so much had happened that day. But the German shepherd wouldn't let those thoughts ruing the meal that his boyfriend had worked so hard for. Their dinner may have been a simple dish of pasta, but due to either Marshall's cooking skills or the chance to eat away the stress of the day, it somehow tasted better than anything Chase had ever eaten. The dalmatian had used the perfect amount of spices, he cooked the pasta just long enough and he made the meat perfect too, all to make it one hell of a meal.

"So, did you like it?" Marshall asked his mate.

"No, I didn't. I LOVED it!" Chase said as he put his paw on top of the Dally's.

"So, how about desert upstairs?" Marshall asked as he winked at his mate with a naughty grin on his face, making his intentions quite clear.

"I would love that even more." Chase said as he got up from his chair.

"Beep-beep-beep" Chase groaned as he heard his phone ringing. Chase took his phone from the table and looked at who was calling him. "Three guesses who is calling." Chase said as he answered. "Hey Silvex, what's up?"

Marshall couldn't hear what Silvex was saying, but the look that spread across Chase's face told him enough. It was a look of surprise, concern and hatred. The latter emotion gave Marshall a pretty good idea of what was going on. Or rather, who was involved: Rubble. He was the only one who could bring that look of hatred on Chase's face. It was the look of a mentor or drill Sergeant when one of their recruits made a stupid mistake that would ruin their lives, as well as besmirch the reputation of everyone involved, including the institution they worked for.

"I'll be right there." Chase said before he hung up. "I'm sorry, babe, but I really need to go help Silvex."

"Has it something to do with Rubble?" Marshall asked.

Chase remained silent for a while, trying to find the words, before answering with a simple "yes."

"Then I'm coming with you!" Marshall proclaimed as he walked towards the door.

"Why would you want to see that traitor?" Chase asked.

"I don't care about him, only about you." Marshall said. "And besides, maybe two former teammates can do more than one."

Chase couldn't help but smile at that. He knew Marshall would always be in his corner. "Fine, we'll go together."

Officer Stillburg was driving through town in his patrol car, doing the usual patrol routes, when suddenly his phone rang.

"Beep-beep-beep" Stillburg picked it up and dropped it from shock when he saw who it was. He parked his car randomly on the sidewalk, which was actually against the law, but he was a corrupt police officer working for the biggest crime boss in town, so he didn't care. He quickly picked his phone back up and answered it.

"Hello, Stillburg here. What can I do for you, Bloodrazor, sir?" Stillburg asked

"Meet me at the pier in thirty minutes." Bloodrazor said, with a voice as dark as ever.

"I'll be there, sir!" Stillburg responded. Bloodrazor then hung up the phone. "I'll finally get to meet him, this is such an honour!" Officer Stillburg though out loud.

He turned around his car and drove straight towards the pier, ignoring a few red lights along the way.

The pier was basically a smaller copy of the Santa Monica pier in Los Angeles, it even had the same name. It wasn't as old as the original, but it was still a good 50 years old. During the day, the pier was one of the busiest places in the city, being filled with tourists and locals who wanted to go to the fair, and at night it was the centre of the nightlife. But during these twilight hours, between dinner and the children's bedtime, there wasn't a soul to be found. Out of security precautions, Officer Stillburg parked his car a good distance away from the pier, which did make him a few minutes late for the meeting, but he hurried to the meeting point none the less.

When he arrived, he walked onto the pier and quickly walked to the meeting point, roughly at the centre of the pier. He was quite nervous, but also a little scared. He may have been Bloodrazor's loyal servant, but it was still scary to meet him face-to-face for the first time. The dark shop windows and abandoned attractions from the pier didn't help either.

Upon his arrival at the meeting point, by the fountain, he checked his watch. His watch said that it was 19:17, which meant that Officer Stillburg was two minutes late. It also meant that Bloodrazor was either late and had yet to come, or that he had been on time and Stillburg just missed him.

"Hello?" Stillburg called out. "Sir? Are you here?"

Stillburg looked around, attempting to spot Bloodrazor, wherever he could be. It was that moment when Stillburg saw something moving in the shadows of a nearby shop.

"You there, identify yourself!" Officer Stillburg called out.

The figure that had been standing in the shadows slowly took a step forward, leaving the shadows and revealing his face with the utmost dramatic effect. As the shadows left the man's face, Stillburg couldn't hide his surprise when he recognized the man.

"Captain Xavier?! What are you doing here?" Stillburg asked

"I may be Captain Xavier, but I'm also known as Bloodrazor" He replied calmly. "And I believe we planned a meeting, one which you are late to"

"What. The. Hell?! Are you telling me that I have been working for you on both my jobs?" Stillburg asked as he was trying to get over the fact that his Captain, whom he was betraying, was the same person he was betraying his Captain to. "Ugh, this is just so confusing."

"I put you in charge of the kidnapping of Jessie Griffin, and you failed." Xavier said.

"How did I fail? I did as you asked, I kidnapped her and I've hidden her where Silvex won't find her" Stillburg said.

"Well, believe it or not, but earlier today, Silvex asked me for a favour. He asked me to persuade the forensics department to do a rush job on a bullet linked to the kidnapping, and so I did, solely to win his favour. But I also asked them to send me their results." Xavier said. "You used a gun from the Evidence department, didn't you?"

"Yes, so it can't be traced back to me." Stillburg said full of confidence. But deep down, a feeling of dread started to grow. In the back of his mind, he started to realize that Xavier saw something he didn't.

"But it can be traced back to the precinct. If Silvex wasn't sure there were corrupt cops around, he will be when he finds out where the gun went" Xavier said, but his voice had turned much darker, making it far more terrifying. Officer Stillburg was no longer talking to Captain Xavier, he was talking to Bloodrazor, criminal mastermind first class. "But don't worry, you won't fail me again. You won't get the chance to"

When the last word of that sentence left Bloodrazor's lips, Stillburg knew what was coming. He may not have been the smartest canine around, but he had learned how to read in-between the lines. Bloodrazor's words left no doubt in his mind. He was about to die.

Officer Stillburg knew he wouldn't survive. But he tried to flee anyway. He didn't get far though. He didn't even make it as far as two meters before he saw a flash of light from the corners of his eyes, accompanied by a loud noise. Immediately after the gunshot, he felt a sharp pain erupting from his chest. Before he knew what was happening, he felt his strength leave his body, and his paws could no longer support his weight. He collapsed, and the last thing Officer Stillburg saw was his Captain walking up to him, putting a gun to his head, and pulling the trigger, all while his face was decorated by a cold smile.