Author's Note - Sorry about the delay, been very busy lately. This segment of the story is turning out to be a lot longer than I expected though the finishing touches are coming along. About the suggested cast, some of them appear in the next episode instead as we will get more into Brody's new world as well. Obviously her world and Pride's will collide again toward the end of the series. Katie Stevens appeared on American Idol and several MTV shows but I cast her here based on her performance in the music video for How Not To with Dan and Shay. As mentioned in the beginning, the New Orleans storyline will be interspersed with Meredith Brody's story in her new job. The two storylines will converge and diverge repeatedly.

GUEST STARRING

Cliff Curtis as Ettore Carozza

Tony Plana as Tommy DiMartino

Katie Stevens as Kellie Ann Matthews

MARRIOT METAIRIE LAKEFRONT HOTEL - METAIRIE

The team made sure their flashing lights were off as their vehicles turned off Metairie's Causeway Boulevard into the large parking complex attached to the large sprawling convention hotel property on the Lake Pontchartrain shoreline. Pride flashed his badge at the front desk as he went through the tastefully decorated modern lobby.

"He's in room 954," Pride said. "LaSalle, you and I are going to do some door knocking. Sonja, stay here in the lobby and watch the elevators. Gregorio, watch the perimeter."

The team acknowledged their instructions as Pride and LaSalle stepped into the elevator. The ninth floor elevator lobby and hallway were thankfully clear of any civilians at this time as Pride looked at the signage and pointed to the right in the direction of Room 954, one of the hotel's luxurious lakeview Jacuzzi suites.

LaSalle knocked on the door. "Mr. Franz Guttmacher! NCIS! Federal agents! Open up now! We have a warrant."

They were met with only silence. "Mr. Guttmacher, this is your final warning!" LaSalle shouted again. "We're coming in!"

Pride touched the keypad with the electronic key the hotel provided and slid open the door, both men entering a room that appeared empty, though there was a suitcase and other belongings on the floor and some half finished wine glasses on the table. Suddenly, they heard a bang and rushed forward, seeing that Guttmacher had kicked down the door to the adjacent room and was escaping through it.

"I've been compromised, I need extraction!" Guttmacher said quickly in German into a phone as he dashed down the hallway, knocking a housekeeper to the ground and trampling over her.

Their suspect was quicker than Pride and LaSalle had expected and was already at the end of the hallway, entering the stairwell that led down toward the swimming pool area.

"Gregorio! Sonja! He's at the east stairwell. He's making a run for it, he's heading down toward the pool."

"Got it!"

Guttmacher pushed past a room service waiter in the stairwell, sending plates of food crashing to the ground as he continued down, jumping down several landings and kicking open the door and emerging in the pool area. Sonja overrode the controls in an elevator as it descended rapidly back toward the mezzanine level where the pool and fitness center area was located, then ran down a long corridor for the pool.

Sonja saw Guttmacher exit the stairwell onto the pool deck and tackled him and the two slid across the slippery surface and into the hot tub. Sonja quickly grabbed Guttmacher by the neck and slammed his face under the water. She held it there for twenty seconds and his difficulty breathing added to the bubbles in the hot tub. Gregorio approached with her weapon drawn and yanked his head above water as Sonja maintained her hold on him. "Franz Guttmacher, you're coming with us back to NCIS. If you resist, I'll shoot you. Is that clear?"

"Ja, ja, I understand," the German said shakily.

Sonja made him stand up and put the cuffs on him. "Already off to a bad start. Got my hair all wet because you couldn't just come with us nicely. You know how long it took for me to do my hair this morning?"

Gregorio looked at her. "Only took me two minutes to do mine."

Sonja rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I can tell. I forgot you're not a Southern girl."

Gregorio was just about to say something back when Pride and LaSalle also entered the pool area with their weapon drawn. "Let's get our suspect to interrogation ASAP," Pride said.

NCIS INTERROGATION ROOM

Franz Guttmacher continued his haughty glare as Gregorio and Pride walked into the interrogation room and sat down.

"What is the meaning of this?" Guttmacher demanded in his thick German accent. "I am a foreign citizen from the European Union. You have no right to treat me this way. I demand to speak to the nearest German consulate at once."

"What's the matter, Herr Guttmacher? Why such the standoffish attitude? You pissed that our Andouille and boudin is so much better than that bratwurst crap back home?" LaSalle asked, trying to get under his skin.

"I demand to speak with the nearest German consulate immediately so they can provide me a lawyer," Guttmacher repeated himself, then added, looking at Pride, "Given you are already not very well liked in Washington, its probably best that you not be the cause of serious problems between our two countries."

Pride took a deep breath. "We haven't even really begun our conversation yet, and you're still acting more guilty than anyone we've ever dragged in here. Why is that, Herr Guttmacher?"

"I am not a fool, Special Agent Pride," Guttmacher replied. "Yes, I know you and your ways. I know you have no respect for rules, not even those of your own government, your own agency. So forgive me if I feel somewhat skeptical of your intentions. Besides I wouldn't be here if you didn't think I was guilty."

"You're being detained as a person of interest in the murder of Eddie Prescott, a US Navy Reserves sailor which of course makes it NCIS jurisdiction. We have power over the FBI, and as you should be the nearest German consulate is all the way in Houston, and they're closed now, so we got plenty of time"

"I have never heard the name Eddie Prescott before," the German scoffed.

"That's a lie," Gregorio replied, removing several photos of Guttmacher from her folder and scattering them on the table in front of him. The pictures showed Guttmacher walking into the building housing the Antifa offices, him talking to Little Willie's crew on an inner city street and parking his car in front of the Tlaib Hussein Mosque. "You want all these different, um, factions as you might put it, gunning for him and raising suspicions, when in the end its you yourself who killed him. So who really hired you for the job and why?"

"Do you have a warrant for these pictures? Again as a European citizen being detained on your soil I demand diplomatic representation from my country."

"Like I said, the German consulate is closed," Pride said wryly. "I wouldn't want to disturb the consul's staff unless its an emergency. We can keep you in this room until they open in the morning, and even then, I don't know what a lawyer can do to help you when you're not even being charged with a crime. At least not yet."

"Your consulate will not be notified," Pride said. "But you'll be spending the night here unless you start talking."

"The German government will notice my absence, and you will regret this, I swear, and my people have almost as many friends in Washington as we do in Berlin." Guttmacher said as Pride closed the door behind him.

RIVERFRONT STREETCAR LINE / INTERSTATE 70, OHIO - THE FOLLOWING MORNING

Sonja took out her phone as she walked down Esplanade Avenue toward the Mississippi River and the Elysian Fields streetcar stop, the final stop on the Riverfront Line. She had to scroll down for a bit before seeing Meredith Brody on her call history list. At least unlike the others on the NCIS team, she was the only one who had maintained contact with Brody after her quick departure from NCIS. Brody had finally reached out to Sonja after over a year. She had made Sonja promise she would say nothing to anyone else, particularly Pride, as she battled her personal demons after everything with John Russo and how her she blamed herself for almost taking the entire team down.

"Sonja?" Brody asked as he heard her ringtone, one of the jazz hits she had learned in New Orleans through Pride's bar. She grabbed her phone from the passenger seat.

"Hey! How you doing, girl?"

"On my way to work now, got a big meeting with the interagency task force this morning."

"So I'm guessing the investigation's going well?"

"Seems never ending, honestly. Drugs are still flooding into southern Ohio, though we might be bringing down on of the pill mill doctors pretty soon. Now I know what it was like for you posing as a junkie."

"That's what they had you do? Jeez!" Sonja said as she got on the streetcar, watching the muddy waters of the Mississippi River pass by.

"Yeah, going into all these small towns, and here in Columbus too. So what's up?"

Sonja was the only one that she had kept in touch with after her sudden departure from NCIS. She needed time off and booked a solo cruise to the Caribbean. One her final day at sea, sailing across the Gulf of Mexico, she had a breakdown and decided she couldn't face Pride again after what had happened with John Russo and how it almost brought the entire team down. Above all, she felt she wasn't at the top of her game anymore.

"I was actually thinking maybe you can help us look into a suspect that might have also been involved in a professional hit up there in Ohio, St. Clairsville to be exact."

"That's several hours from Columbus, in the other direction," Brody said, pretty sure Sonja wasn't that familiar with Midwest geography. St. Clairsville was all the way to the east, near the West Virginia state line. "But send me the info, I can see what we can do."

"I'm sending it now," Sonja said, switching screens on her phone. "But the victim was a lawyer in Cleveland with ties to the Carozza crime family by the name of Michael McAndrews, who closed his law firm several years ago. What he was doing in St. Clairsville is a mystery, but we believe he was killed by an international assassin who also killed a victim here in Louisiana that we're investigating. The former consigliere of the Cleveland Mafia paid the lawyer a visit the same day he was killed."

Sonja didn't mention any more specifics, as he didn't want Brody or any of her colleagues to jump to any possible conclusions.

"Michael McAndrews? That's one of the highest profile cold cases in the northern part of the state. There's rumors circulating that the mob put a hit on him but the Carozza family is defunct for all intents and purposes according. Ettore Carozza decided to live the quiet life after he got out of prison." Brody said as she merged onto Interstate 670 via a massive flyover interchange, heading toward Third Street, one of the exits leading into Columbus's downtown core. "You think they have connections in New Orleans?"

"Don't really know what to think, but hey, I'm at the old stop," Sonja said, getting off the streetcar near the French Market. Brody heard the mix of jazz musicians and brass bands that always played around there and had another whiff of nostalgia for the Big Easy, but knew that she wouldn't be going back anytime soon. This was her reality now. "So you like your new team?"

"Just very different than you and Pride and everyone down there," Brody said, "Thinking about New Orleans, it's still all like a dream to me, but one that just had to end." She stopped at a red light and glanced around at her surroundings. Here the streets were cleaner and better paved, and the buildings more modern, but it was New Orleans's many imperfections that gave it its charm and set it apart from the rest of the country, even from the rest of Louisiana.

"I'm sure you got some great people on your team. Columbus office's profile has become much higher given its coverage of the opioid crisis in the Tri-State area."

"I focus mainly on work, honestly, Sonja," Brody said. "With this task force, I feel caught in the middle. You go ten miles into the suburbs and the locals don't trust you, many of them downright hate the federal government, now imagine the small towns at the edge of the state. Even my own law enforcement partners seem to resent me. They think I'm just a government stiff like the people running the office."

"Oh, so you're like Agent Isler to them, I get it," Sonja said with a slight laugh. She truly missed seeing her old friend every day and strolling the charming streets of New Orleans together. "You'll manage to find your place, Brody, I know you always do! Now I know you don't want to talk about the past, but you need to open up to me sometime. I'm here for you, remember that."

"I know, Sonja. I know I'll never be able to repay you. Anyway, I just parked, need to get ready for my meeting."

"Hear from you soon," Sonja said, walking into NCIS herself.

DEA FIELD OFFICE, COLUMBUS, OHIO

Brody hung up the phone and began the walk across the parking lot to the Bricker Federal Building. If New Orleans was the city that stood out in the South, then maybe Columbus was the one that stood out in Ohio. In a state known for its crumbling Rust Belt factories, shuttered coal mines, and rolling cornfields, the capital was a sleek, modern city surrounded by the kinds of massive freeways, office parks, and planned suburban communities that would be more at home in the South or West.

"Who was that?" asked Ohio State Trooper Richard "Ricky" Parsons, who had followed her in his State Police SUV after spending the previous night at Brody's apartment that she got for the time she actually spent in Columbus, which wasn't that much considering most of the investigation was center in Ironton and nearby areas of far southern Ohio, a two and a half drive away. Instead of being kept awake by jazz musicians and brass bands, she had to contend with the noise coming from drunk neighbors hanging out at the swimming pool.

"An old friend from NCIS New Orleans," she replied.

"Cool, nice to see you still keep in touch with your old team. I'm still good buddies with some guys from Lawrence County, especially because of Amber," he said, referring to a fellow officer on their task force. "Still some of them resented me for going to state police, like I felt I was better than them."

"Well you gotta go where the opportunities are," Brody said.

"Guess that's what I've been doing. Remember I went down to Ironton cause that's the first place I would find an opening, now I'm back up in Columbus, but this work's bringing me down to Ironton again."

"What about you? I hear NCIS is a great outfit, and now you come back to the Midwest? Maybe you consider DEA a step up, I don't know." Parsons didn't like dealing with the Feds, but it was a necessary evil.

He didn't know much about this new hire from NCIS New Orleans. He didn't even think New Orleans had a large enough military presence to justify having an NCIS office at all. She came across as somewhat cold and arrogant but not extremely so, probably it's the Southern living rubbing off on her for a few years. Maybe it was just her personality. He didn't deny that she was somewhat attractive, but she was hard to read in his opinion.

As for Columbus, he had spent some wonderful years here at Ohio State but was glad to be working mostly back in his Appalachian hometown, among his own people. He did miss the urban excitement and cultural offerings of Columbus sometimes too though and it was nice to come up once in a while, though this was happening more and more often now with work, and with more suspected criminal links between the metro area and the rural hinterlands.

"Guess this is as close as I can get to home for now," Brody said. Parsons knew about her experience with the NCIS Chicago office. Prior to that she was originally from Akron in Northeast Ohio, so if this was her trying to home back home, it kinda made sense, though he always imagined New Orleans to be an amazing posting.

Brody had been back in Ohio for a little over a year now. She was the DEA's liaison in an interagency investigative task force involving both the Ohio State Police and several local county departments in southern Ohio, an area hit hard by the opioid crisis.

"Hey, been wondering where y'all were!" a young female officer in plainclothes said, jogging over from her Ford F150 pickup truck. Her accent sounded almost Southern, with a much stronger twang than many people Brody had encountered during her time in Louisiana.

"Hey Amber!" Parson said pleasantly. The young woman was Deputy Amber McKenna from the Lawrence County Sheriffs Office, her small department's representative on the task force. Barely 25 years old, she had just graduated from the police academy a year ago. She was following her dream of joining the law enforcement community in her hometown of Ironton, all the way on the Ohio River directly across from Eastern Kentucky in the heart of Appalachia.

Half the truck was covered in mud, evidence of a fun weekend back home in Lawrence County, where most of their investigation was based. "Off roading, I guess?" Brody said, trying to make conversation though Amber had always kept a distance from her. She greeted Parsons a lot more warmly with an excited smile.

"I wish! Was just watching some high school buddies of mine race on the dirt track. Parked a little close and the wind was really blowing!" As their made their way through the lobby and into the elevator, Amber showed them a video of her in a much more casual look, wearing a baseball cap with her hair tied in a ponytail, holding a 16 ounce can of Coors Light and wearing a sports jersey from South Point High School.

Brody could tell Amber wasn't even trying to hide that she only wanted to talk about the weekend with Ricky. This was an even tougher adjustment than going to New Orleans from NCIS Chicago. Down there, she had her guard up and took time to warm up to Pride and the other team's welcome. Here, she could sense the resentment toward her, and it didn't have so much to do with her personally, than with the fact that she represented the Feds, which was never popular in these parts.

Special Agent in Charge Ryan Church was short on pleasantries as he opened the meeting. He pulled up a list of doctors and pharmacies they were investigating as possible pill mills. "So anything new, people? Washington is impatient for results, and unless we give them something soon, they're threatening to dissolve our task force."

The meeting was also attended by Brody's direct superior, Special Agent Marcus Ramirez, who spent much more time in the office than in the field, and it seemed he preferred it this way.

Brody got up and displayed a map of the area falling under the jurisdiction of the Columbus DEA field office, stretching from the Columbus metropolitan area all the way down to the West Virginia and Kentucky borders, including most of Ohio's Appalachian counties. "We believe the primary heroin trafficking route into this region originates from Detroit and Chicago. Mexican drug cartels like the Sinaloa Cartel are contracting with urban gangs based up there to drive their product into the southern counties. At this current time, however, prescription narcotics are a much more prevalent issue."

Ricky continued the presentation. "In addition to the rural communities, we're seeing more of these pills being diverted right here in the Columbus area. But the main source remains pain management doctors scattered throughout our district, whom we believe are in cahoots with local criminal organizations. There are a number of suspected crime families whom we believe are in communication with pill mills. Brody here has taken the initiative to investigate one of these doctors on her own." He nodded at Brody and she stood up, walking to the front of the conference room. Parsons was a little warmer to Brody than Amber was, but still nothing like Pride or LaSalle.

"I believe I got something on Ankur Sarodia," Brody said. "His office is in Pataskala but is always flooded with patients who live three or four hours away. His official specialty is family medicine but he's the third highest prescriber of opioids in the entire state and many of his prescriptions are identical, over 100 tablets of Percocet, with diagnosis codes for unspecified pain disorders, loves prescribing Xanax as well. I got a judge in Licking County to sign off on a warrant for a quick undercover operation. Instead of doing the drug addict act like in Portsmouth I posed as a college student abusing ADHD controlled substances, which are DEA Schedule II drugs in the same category as narcotic pain medications."

She played the tape for everyone gathered in the room, including when Dr. Sarodia mentioned the pharmacy. "We do have Miller's Pharmacy on our radar, a lot of people from outside the immediate area also happen to use it though not to the extent of some of the pill mills right down there in Ironton."

"So we've proven Dr. Sarodia and Miller's Pharmacy are dirty, so what? So does this help us in looking at the big picture?"

Brody and even her colleagues looked at him incredulously. "That should be enough to take action against them."

"Yes, we'll take action against them, and notify the Board of Pharmacy as well, we may be able to get Miller's Pharmacy's controlled substance dispensing license suspended, if at that. We don't have them involved in any kind of conspiracy, Dr. Sarodia directing his illegitimate patients but it's not enough to shut that pharmacy down for good. Above all, that doesn't link either Sarodia nor the pharmacy to the opioid traffic heading into Lawrence County. And no, finding some of his prescription bottles down there doesn't exactly count."

"It should be enough to have Sarodia's medical license revoked, isn't it? That recorded conversation leaves no doubt about what's going on."

"So what are we going to do?" Church asked impatiently. "Arrest him for inappropriately writing an Adderall prescription, cut him a deal where he admits to being an accessory in narcotics trafficking?"

"That's when we also pursue the investigation from the Lawrence County end," Parsons spoke up, "But at least Ankur Sarodia's office will be closed and we'll have cut down on the amount of fraudulent and inappropriate prescriptions flooding the streets. And if the dealers start gravitating toward other doctors we can track that too. If anything, losing Sarodia will force the traffickers in Southern Ohio to rely more on local doctors again."

"But the main point is to target the traffickers," Church said. "If we go after the doctors and drug companies the pushback will be intense. What our media relations department in Washington wants is high-profile raids, not some boring hearing at the Board of Medicine in some flyover state"

"They also want a clear show of Federal power in rural America," Ramirez said "Optics are important. And our media relations department is in regular contact with CNN and the rest of the mainstream media."

"Basically you want to show them hillbillies down there whose in charge," Ricky said pointedly. "To you that's more important than arresting a sleazeball like Ankur Sarodia, at least keeping some of those drugs from killing people."

Ramirez threw his hands up. "I'm just saying what we're getting from DEA headquarters. Yes we'll get Sarodia's clinic shut down and track the drugs leaving from there, but this is only the beginning."

"Sir, with respect, I think it's a good start," Brody said.

Church was expressionless. "I need more than this, you people, and remember we have other cases besides Lawrence County."

BRICKER FEDERAL OFFICE BUILDING, COLUMBUS

"Sir, if you have a moment, there's one thing I'd like to talk to you about very quickly," Brody said, knocking on her supervisor's door later that day.

"Come on in," Special Agent in Charge Ryan Church said from his corner office with an enviable view of Columbus, including Ohio's unusual looking state capitol building, which seemed to be purposely missing its dome. "What is it?"

Church was the typical soulless yet smug federal bureaucrat and Washington stooge straight out of central casting, the polar opposite of Dwayne Pride. Brody had heard he hadn'In fact Brody found it impossible to picture Ryan Church outside his suit or anywhere outside work, except maybe sipping a fancy Frappuccino at Starbucks.

Brody quickly went through the request from NCIS New Orleans to look into the St. Clairsville murder.

"It's actually interesting that you mention that," Church said. "I'm looking through some of Deputy McKenna's notes, nothing presented at the official briefing since it's only hearsay and she was waiting for my approval to pursue it further, but according to police records in Lawrence County, a suspect claimed that some of the drugs he was apprehended with came from a group calling it the Carozza Outfit."

"The Mafia never had much of a presence in southern Ohio, if at all, and Cincinnati would be the closest crime family to Ironton. We've always thought the Mexican drug cartels were the major suppliers down there. They've carried out a number of high-profile killings in the area including that homestead massacre last year."

"Which is why I do want you to head up to Cleveland and have a word with Don Carozza. Cleveland field office, which still isn't happy with the fact that I no longer work for them, will want to be involved, but St. Clairsville's our jurisdiction. I thought I had done everything I can in Cleveland and that it was time to move on, but we'll see what games the Carozzas might still be playing."

"And you can set this up?" Brody asked incredulously.

"Let's just say Ettore Carozza and I are intimately acquainted with one another. I'm one of the biggest reasons he went to prison, and he still gloats over how he never served his full sentence."

NCIS OFFICE

Pride walked back toward the interrogation room the next morning and Gregorio followed him. It was clear Franz Guttmacher didn't sleep too well in that dark prison cell like room. Yet his arrogance was still there as he hear the agents approaching.

"I just want to smack that ugly smirk off his face," Gregorio snapped.

"I know," Pride said calmly, "But maybe this isn't the right approach. Maybe we give him the benefit of the doubt."

"This mercenary scumbag doesn't deserve the benefit of the doubt."

"At least make him believe we're giving him that. It's not an emergency for him, but it is for us. I don't know if he knows that depending on the level of his involvement."

NCIS INTERROGATION ROOM

Pride walked back in with Gregorio. "Maybe you're not pressed for time, maybe you're enjoying our hospitality and spending the night in this quiet, climate controlled room….."

Guttmacher uttered some anti-American bullshit in German.

"We know that you're not at the top of the conspiracy. We're simply interested in knowing who's calling the shots and why they wanted Prescott dead and who hired you. Did it have something to do with his work with Wiesbaden or was it one of the gangs?"

"You already assume I am a criminal. You know nothing about me," said the German.

"I know about your history, how you would be prison back home if it wasn't for your intimate connections within the German establishment. I know about how you went rogue and cost the lives of your team, and somehow you made a name for yourself in industrial espionage, then who knows why you got further corrupted."

"I AM working for Wiesbaden Polymers!" Guttmacher said, his voice rising. "Like I said, you know nothing about me. This is part of an operation I am running, an operation with the full endorsement of the German government. I don't officially work for BND anymore but I still have contacts there."

Pride scoffed. "I don't know why I find that hard to believe. Unless Wiesbaden is connected…."

"It is a German company, hence these are German economic interests. Unlike your country which sells out your workers for global interests, good for us of course, we take care of our businesses and make sure they are treated fairly abroad. But…..this is a private investigation and I will say nothing more."

"So you're doing all this dirty work for Wiesbaden Polymers. Murder? What did Eddie Prescott do or know that caused someone to want him dead?" Pride asked.

Guttmacher smirked again. "I still don't know what you are talking about, Herr Pride."

"We really can hold you here for a few days," Gregorio said with her mean face. "We could tell your consulate you were sick and couldn't talk or something. Or you can cooperate with us."

"I can tell you the minimum if it means you will leave me alone, but first I demand some water and food. I expected better from America, the cradle of democracy, you call yourselves?"

Pride motioned at the one-way window and LaSalle came in with a bottle of spring water from Kentwood, Louisiana and slammed it on the table in front of Guttmacher, who gave him the nastiest look until LaSalle left the room.

"So now are we done playing games?" Gregorio snapped.

"These pictures you see, I was carrying out my investigation."

"You just found the most unsavory characters in New Orleans to spend time with, all of whom have a motive to kill Eddie Prescott. What is the nature of your alleged investigation?"

"Eddie Prescott might not have been the hero you and so many people in this city believe him to be. Kellie Ann Matthews, the private security guard at the Wiesbaden chemical plant, whom I'm sure you're also familiar with, is also a subject of this investigation. We believe she and Prescott are part of a larger conspiracy."

"And yet there's no notification of local authorities, including my office given Prescott's military status. Nothing with Louisiana State Police, Ascension Parish Sheriff's Office, nobody." Pride himself had way too many experiences with that, with his own government running ops in his backward without the courtesy to give him or any local law enforcement a heads up.

"We did not know who we can trust. We are operating far from home."

"Why are you investigating Prescott and Matthews?"

"We believe that Prescott's relationship with Matthews is to take advantage of her security position to access more sensitive parts of the facility than his own clearance as an outside consultant allows him to. We do not know why he is doing this, whether it's a simple case of industrial spying, to steal secrets and chemicals for a larger plot, or to assist in a possible attack on the facility itself."

Pride was silent for a while. "Why would a drug dealing crew, Antifa, or Islamic fundamentalists be interested in Wiesbaden Polymers?"

"I see I have your attention now, Special Agent Pride," Guttmacher commented. "Some of the materials found in our plant can also be misused in the production of illegal drugs, and I understand CJ and LaShawn and their BGF crew is concerned about their drug source as additional security measures have been implemented at the Mexican border. And I'm sure I don't need to explain what Islamic terrorists would do if they can access the plant. Antifa, too, as they've become more violent over the years."

"And go you went all over to these groups trying to gather intel on Prescott and Miss Matthews and their alleged misdeeds." Pride stressed the word alleged. "You find anything?"

"No, but the possibility that you've explored, that the street gangs are not happy with Prescott affecting their recruiting efforts, that could still be the motive."

"So you just wasted our time discussing you investigation? So after everything you've done, you claim you're back to where you…no I started?"

"That is possible," Guttmacher admitted. "You had demanded the truth, Special Agent Pride. The truth is, I really suspected Prescott was up to no good, and we had to be extremely thorough, leave no detail untouched. That is the German way."