tada! I really have nothing to say about this...other than that I'm posting it instead of writing a DBQ...yeah that's basically it...
"Ugh." Gus groaned as the two men stepped out of the airport, dragging their suitcases behind them, and were hit with the full force of the mid-day sun. Gus was looking slightly green, and was clutching at his stomach with his free hand. Long plane rides always made him sick. Shawn, on the other hand, was looking like a 2 year old with a lollipop, practically bouncing as he thought about all the fun things they could do in New York City.
"If I don't eat something soon I think I'm going to be sick." Gus moaned, clutching at his stomach with both hands this time. He looked around, in search of a place to eat.
Shawn sighed. Real life always had to encroach on fantasy, he thought sadly as he too looked around for a suitable restaurant. "How about that place?" he asked, pointing to a questionable looking bar and restaurant across the street from the airport.
"Alright, fine." Gus agreed immediately. "He must really not be feeling good." Shawn thought idly, watching his friend as they crossed the street. "He normally would never agree to go to a place like this when there are so many nice restaurants around." He finished his thought as they entered the restaurant.
The two men looked around them. The restaurant was pretty crowded, despite its appearance. Or rather, because of its appearance. The crowd in here seemed to be doing some less than legal dealings. However Shawn's sharp eyes spotted a circular booth towards the back of the restaurant that only had one occupant, who looked fairly normal. He was wearing an expensive looking suit and his tousled hair was covered by the fedora perched on his head. Overall he looked pretty classy.
Shawn nudged Gus, and inclined his head toward the booth, before he started walking in that direction. Gus followed closely behind him, shooting furtive glances at some of the more violent looking patrons.
As they reached the table Shawn immediately plopped himself down, opposite the man, ignoring the annoyed glare that was shot his way. "Hello there!" Shawn greeted the other man, who was looking around anxiously. "I'm Shawn, and this is Gus!" Shawn introduced them. Gus was looking decidedly less queasy, but very uneasy. The man opposite them was mumbling something that sounded like "We have a problem Peter."
"Who are you?" Shawn prompted, when it became apparent that the other man wasn't going to offer an introduction of his own accord.
"Nicholas Halden." The man offered in a preoccupied voice, still looking around himself anxiously. Shawn's detective training was kicking in. there was something off about this guy. Shawn pulled out his phone to send a text to Gus, informing him of his suspicions, when the phone slipped out of his hand and fell to the floor, the sound muffled by the carpet. He slipped under the table, unnoticed, to retrieve it.
It was then that he noticed a faint green light coming from where Nicholas was sitting. Shawn unlocked his phone and used the backlight to see where it was coming from. It was coming from an electronic device attached to the man's ankle. Shawn didn't know much about police equipment, seeing as how he didn't technically work for the police, but he knew enough to know that this was a tracking anklet. And an expensive one, by the looks of it.
"But why would he be wearing a tracking anklet?" Shawn wondered as he came up from under the table. Now that he was on the alert Shawn noticed something else that was suspicious—Nick's watch. It wasn't obvious. Only someone trained to see things like that would have noticed it. The hands on the watch weren't moving.
"It must be an audio recording device." Shawn thought, the years of training with his father kicking in. Gus seemed to have noticed his friend's newfound wariness towards the man, and was looking anxiously between the two of them.
"Hey Nick," Shawn started, sounding nonchalant. "Care to explain why you're wearing a tracking anklet?" he finished, letting a note of suspicion creep into his voice. The man paled, and seemed even more nervous than before.
"Keep your voice down." He commanded in an authoritative whisper. "Damn it Peter, I told you…" he added, muttering to himself.
"And I also couldn't help but notice that your watch really isn't a watch at all." Shawn continued, disregarding Nick's command to talk quietly. Quite a few people were staring at them now. The man became even paler, and said in a whispered voice laced with fear "You don't know what you're getting into here Shawn. Shut up and leave."
"I don't think we will." Shawn said defiantly, though Gus looked like all he wanted to do was to listen to the man, and get the hell out of there. "You see, back in Santa Barbara we work for the police—"
"Shut. UP." Nick said in a louder voice now. "You're blowing my cover, you idiot."
"What cover?" Shawn asked, looking thoroughly confused. "I've seen a lot of police officers and detectives, and you look like neither." He added. He obviously couldn't grasp the fact that there were people higher up than detectives out there. Nick ground his teeth together in frustration. "Just leave. Me. Alone." He ground out. He was on the verge of his breaking point, a place he did not enjoy being.
"You know what Gus?" Shawn asked, looking over at his terrified friend. "I think we should call the police."
This was the final straw for Nick. Threatening to call the police on him—like that would work. He was a world class criminal, albeit a reformed one. And these dolts thought a couple of police officers could catch him? He was on his feet before his mind could process what he was doing. "I'M WITH THE FBI YOU IDIOTS!" he screamed. As soon as it was out of his mouth he realized what he had said. In a matter of seconds they were surrounded. "Shit." He said, looking around at the circle of men, who more than likely didn't share his aversion to violence.
Two men grabbed his arms and dragged him, too stunned to fight, into a room at the back of the restaurant. Shawn and Gus sat open mouthed in the no longer crowded restaurant. No one else seemed shocked at the events that had just transpired. Shawn turned to Gus still shocked. "We just blew an FBI agents cover." He said in a detached voice. Gus nodded and looked towards the door that the man had been dragged through a moment before. "Should we do something?" he wondered aloud, at the same moment that a squad of armed FBI agents burst through the front door.
"Jones" the lead agent barked out over his shoulder. "Detain them." He said, nodding his head towards where Shawn and Gus were sitting.
One of the agents broke off of the group, and walked over to where they were sitting. "Follow me." He said in a voice that implied he didn't like them too much. As they stood up to go the agents rammed through the door to the back room and rushed in, guns at the ready.
"Well this is shaping up to be an exciting trip." Shawn said as they exited the restaurant, earning glares from both Gus and the agent.