Yeah, sorry, but I couldn't help myself.
If you get what I mean, not need to explain, if you don't, don't bother trying to understand.

Chapter 5

John McClee was in his living room, watching TV while Mary disconnected the phone to stop all further attempts from her brother to contact her, when the news shifted to a new subject.

At first, John didn't react. He didn't know the man's face all that well, to be frank. There wasn't much to be surprised about in this. The tv screen, so far, was only displaying images of a police intervention, which, admittedly, was John's area of expertise. But it wasn't his case.

All he could see, for now, was a man being led away from the journalists by an uniformed officer and a man in a suit whom the detective couldn't recognize. The first man was tall enough, black haired, and from the left profile John could distinguish, a large bruise on his jaw, two cuts over his eyebrow, and several bandages on his body.

John could say he hadn't ever met the guy. He looked vaguely familiar, though.

The detective looked up as Mary came back front the entrance of the house, a scowl on her face.

"Still insulting you for living with me?"

"My brother won't ever learn, John. That's what being indoctrinated usually entails."

John had met Mary during the investigation after the shooting at the spice and tea shop. It was her who had tried to stop the klaustreich, her own brother, who had started threatening Bud Wurstner. Her brother had dropped off the grid after the incident, and she had given up on stopping him.

Her efforts had then shifted onto making John McClee comfortable with the idea of a hidden world. Kehrseites weren't supposed to know, but when one did, it was better for everyone to put them at ease, unless the wesen community wanted a popular uproar to try and off them all. The community had learned from its mistakes and its slaughters, thank you very much; Black Claw was the last refuge of those who couldn't get that, in this time and place.

Strangely, their relationship had evolved from that into something much more intimate, and, at the beginning of the week, Mary had moved in. John didn't care if she was wesen, Mary didn't care if he was kehrseite.

Moreover, it was always a good thing to have one or two law enforcement people who could tell when there was something more behind a crime. So far it hadn't been a problem in Portland, but almost every wesen officers had been either transferred to another city by the mayor, when they didn't agree with Black Claw, or killed by Nicholas Burkhardt when they had raided his house.

Almost four months had passed since then, and John hadn't heard a thing about Burkhardt or any of his friends. There were rumors, out there, supposed sightings, yes, but nothing concrete.

In other words, Detective John McClee was probably the only policeman left who knew about wesens. The wesen community had been adamant that he should be treated well, to prove to him that not all wesens were barbarians like Black Claw.

Mary had been happy to contribute to that effort.

She sat down on the couch next to him, and John went back to looking at the news. He hadn't paid much attention to it during the last seconds, and perhaps that explained why he almost choked on his beer when the voice over actually named the man whom the journalists were still trying to get on camera.

"... infamous after the North Precinct slaughters from weeks ago, Nicholas Burkhardt is back in Portland. The authorities are going to interrogate him, but despite everything, it doesn't seem as if the police detective is going to face any kind of charges. In fact, when he walked in the Providence Portland Medical Center this morning, he was accompanied by two government agents from a still-indivulged agency..."

Mary tapped her boyfriend in the back to prevent him from spluttering any more of his beer, but she too had her eyes riveted on the TV.

"Either he's been found, and in this case he's going to be killed off very soon, before it's all covered up, or he came back on his own... John, if that's the case..."

"It means Black Claw has been ended."

John's thought wandered back to Farley Kolt, Annie Parker and "Alexander". He had since been told what Hadrian's Wall was, and he really hoped that the two government agents seen at the hospital were from that group, and not from Black Claw. Because, as Mary had just said, if Nick Burkhardt was seen in public, and not operating from the shadows anymore, it could mean only two things; either Black Claw had won, and they'd soon see the changes, or Hadrian's Wall had succeeded in bringing down the terrorist group.

The journalist joined the new police captain of the Central Precinct and a men in a black suit, black tie, black sunglasses, whom it wasn't really difficult to peg as an agent of one agency or another. Even Parker and Kolt hadn't been that obvious. Perhaps it was the point, here, though.

"... is there anything you can tell us about the fate of your former detective, Captain Blake? Or, at least, if you have any clues as to where he was hiding during these four months?"

"Nicholas Burkhardt still is a detective of the Central Precinct, and he will remain so unless he is proved unfit for duty. He has been through some rather traumatic situations lately, none of which were his fault. I cannot say anything more for now."

The captain turned to look at the man in a suit standing next to her, who took off his sunglasses and stared at the camera instead of at the journalist. John kind of felt the urge to take a step back under the scrutiny.

Mary sighed as she recognized the way the man was staring past the obvious.

"You know, grimms are able to see a woge even on a video, it's really creepy. Burhkardt would be able to tell you what that guy is without a problem."

"So, a wesen. Still doesn't tell us if he's Black Claw or Hadrian's Wall."

"Well, I'd say he works for the government, so, logically, Hadrian's Wall, but as I'm pretty sure there are a few corrupted officials in Black Claw, it doesn't really mean anything..."

"...most of what happened with Burkhardt is confidential. But I am allowed to tell you that a terrorist group had infiltrated the Portland Police, and for reasons I cannot disclose, taken him as a target. He worked with us from that point on to shut down the terrorist cell here in Portland. Yesterday the mondial network was disbanded, and now things are going back to normal. Detective Burkhardt's work is done, and he isn't in danger anymore. He is not to be held responsible for the lives he was forced to take."

"Are you saying he is a hero?"

"As much as any of those who fought to maintain your rights in this battle, miss."

Mary and John waited for a moment for more information, but what followed was only about the journalists' speculations over the "confidential" part of the man in a suit's statement. Mary turned the TV off, and they stared at each other.

"This... sounded like Hadrian's Wall, right?"

"Well, they surely were defending the grimm... So, unless he switched sides, it seems like it..."

John's cellphone rang at that moment, and the detective closed his eyes before standing up to get it.

"Please be it a confirmation that no wesen extremists have risen to power... Please tell me it's not the sign that everything is going to hell..."

He didn't recognize the phone number, but really, it wasn't surprising. The only one who could have called to talk about that would be Bud Wurstner, and it was unlikely that the eisbiber had more information on the matter than John and Mary did. If this phone call was about the latest piece of news, it couldn't come from someone he had in his phonebook.

"John McClee."

Though it could come from someone he knew, even if he didn't have their number.

"Annie Parker speaking. Remember me?"

It was more than a bit reassuring to hear the agent's voice right now. Not only did it tell John that indeed, the topic of this conversation would most likely be Nick Burkhardt, but it also told him Hadrian's Wall was still standing. Meaning, Black Claw had almost certainly fallen.

Parker didn't sound particularly anxious or anything else. It could only be good news.

"How not to? You kind of brought me into a world I didn't even suspect existed in the first place."

"Be fair, you were already working on that case before Farley and I got there. Anyway, did you see the Portland news, Detective McClee?"

"Yes, and I almost choked on my beer when I realized who the guy was. Speaking of which, what happened to him? If I was finally allowed back in my old life after being on the run from a terrorist organization, the hospital wouldn't have been my first stop. I think I'd go to the police station first, just to get the facts straight about what happened with the North Precinct."

John could almost hear the wince in Parker's voice, even over the phone.

"Burkhardt is an excellent... Let's say fighter. He didn't only provide us with information, and so got wounded in the process. A hundjäger tried to get a bite of him last night, before he inconveniently... lost his head."

John mouthed hundjäger at Mary, who raised her eyebrows and went to look for an illustration. Since John was just the usual kehrseite, they had chosen that method for him to learn about wesens, as wesens didn't usually go around in full woge, visible to all.

"Did you just say that hund-whatever lost his mind after biting into Burkhardt? What is it, grimms are toxic to wesens in top of everything else?"

Mary came back with a sketch of the hundjäger, and John took a step back at the sight, because the sketched wesen didn't look nice at all.

"Lost his head, not his mind. As in, beheaded."

"Say no more, I don't want to know. What can I do for Hadrian's Wall?"

The detective was almost certain he heard chuckling from the other end of the phone call.

"You did your homework, I see. Then again, I suppose that going out with a wesen did help on that point, didn't it?"

"Are you monitoring me?"

"The point of this conversation, Detective McClee, concerns Burkhardt's future. Hadrian's Wall will not disclose anything about wesens, obviously, but now that the threat has been destroyed, it would be unfair to keep him from his old life. Moreover, Black Claw's activities didn't go unnoticed, and we need to explain some events with as few lies as possible. The more the lies, the highest the danger of discovery. The official version will only include the existence of a large and extended terrorist network, without their exact motivations; and Burkhardt's part in its take-down, which is actually the truth of what happened. As a result, though, the Portland police did ask for Burkhardt to be evalued to see if he's still fit for duty."

John noticed how Parker hadn't actually answered his question. Maybe he liked not knowing better.

"That seems acceptable... I mean, considering he was supposedly stuck fighting against an underground terrorist cell after having killed a good number of people who should have been his colleagues. Normal people wouldn't take it easy. Besides, he could actually be traumatized..."

"We're talking about Burkhardt, here."

Parker had said that as if it was enough to explain that no, there was no point worrying about whether or not Nick Burkhardt could deal with his actions, because the answer was obvious.

"He's a grimm, I know. Natural born hunter of the supernaturally wicked with a true warrior instinct, whatever it means. But most people don't know that, and they don't know the complete story behind the 'large and extended terrorist network'. It's normal for him to be evalued."

"It's still a problem, because Burkhardt can't exactly go and tell a psychologist what really happened during the last months. The government has special people under secrecy for that, but even they wouldn't listen to his story without being convinced he did go insane."

"Doesn't Hadrian's Wall has its own people to take care of that?"

"One. She will do it, of course, but the locals will want her decision to be backed up by someone who's not part of our organization. And that's where we need you."

John frowned at nothing, since Agent Annie Parker wasn't here with him to be frowned at.

"I'm... not sure I follow."

"Well, we need a few people in-the-know to supervise the evaluation, amongst whom one must have a position in law enforcement. And it just so happen that every wesen in law enforcement in Portland is either gone, dead, or on the run. The few other kehrseites in the police who knew about the truth are unavailable, because involved. You're the only one left."

John didn't comment that it wasn't following procedure, because really, was there anything in this story that was described anywhere in the rules to follow?

"Basically, you want me to listen to everything that happened, from Burkhardt, while he's being looked at by a shrink, and after that to say everything was by the book and yes, the detective can go back to arresting bad guys?"

"You'll only be there for the last session, in which nothing but Burkhardt's actual state will be talked about, and you'd be on the other side of an one-way mirror. Really, it's just to avoid suspicion in case someone'd wonder why it had to be our psychologist, and not a Portland PD psychologist."

John didn't see why he couldn't do it, even if he felt they were making things more complicated than they were supposed to be. After all, what did he know about secret agencies policies and how to keep the wesen part of the world a secret? Not much, really, and he wasn't going to pretend he did. Most of the time, things were as they were, even if it didn't seem logical, for a reason. Because he couldn't see it didn't mean this reason didn't exist.

So he agreed.

It was supposed to be a secret, but well, Mary was a klaustreich, and she already knew about all that. When she asked him what the phone call had been about, John just answered truthfully, though without going into details. Honesty in a couple was what made it work, yet some things were better left unsaid, if only because they weren't supposed to be said by their very nature.

Mary did ask him to bring back Burkhardt's autograph as a joke.

Or, at least, John thought it was a joke.

Two weeks later, Annie Parker herself went to collect him from the East Precinct and to an undisclosed location for Nicholas Burkhardt's last session. From what John's gathered out of the agent's comments on the situation, Burkhardt and his team had been kept away from journalists and other inquiring pests for the duration of the psychological evaluation and mission debriefing, just in case. With the concerned people's agreement, of course.

John tried not to look overly curious as he entered the premises, but he might not have made much of a job of it. He was used not to show his surprise or curiosity too much, as a detective, since being an open book tended to inform your suspects a bit too soon. But he had also spent four months and a half, roughly, wondering what exactly was happening to Nick Burkhardt.

He couldn't help it. He was curious. More than a little bit curious.

The first time he had heard of Nick Burkhardt, it had been with the man, a fellow police detective, as the main suspect in the slaugtherw of Portland's North Precinct. Then it had all gone to the dogs from that, and John had left the investigation right at the point where Burkhardt had been revealed to be alive and wanted by a secret terrorist group. Everything after that told John McClee that the story had only gotten more interesting from then on, though the detective wasn't sure how exactly it could become more interesting.

So yes, John might be a bit more than just a little bit curious and slightly excited to finally see Nick Burkhardt, because so far, he had only heard the man's voice over the phone, just before Agent Parker, Agent Kolt and "Alexander" had walked off into the sunset, letting him to wonder whatever the hell he was going to say in his report.

For four whole months.

He kind of felt entitled to see the real deal, now.

And, if he could get a sight of the people Burkhardt had worked with during the latest top secret, confidential events, it would just be a bonus.

Alright, John McClee was feeling a bit like his child-self, right now, because it was totally as if he had walked, again, right into the superhero / spy movies from his childhood.

Parker showed him through a common area. A discreetly pregnant woman, and who he assumed to be her husband, were talking quietly next to the fireplace. The sergeant Wu, whom John had seen on a couple of occasions during cases, was watching TV. A woman, younger than the others, was squinting at a disassembled gun; John just had the feeling she could make it assembled again in less than fifteen seconds. Another woman was reading a book next to a window. Lastly, Hank Griffith, whom he easily recognized from a jurisdiction problem three years back, was relaxing in an armchair; his left leg was in a cast, and John did not wish to know why; he was perfectly content with the wry smile the other detective gave him when he looked back up at the man's face.

None of them looked quite as bad as Burkhardt had looked the other day on TV, though. The guy had been pale, bloody, and if not terribly wounded anywhere, his body had been lightly wounded about everywhere. Then again, Burkhardt had probably been the only one used as a chew toy by a hundjäger.

Or, John hoped so. Death by hundjäger bite wasn't on his wish list, and it would never be, not after having seen the picture of a hundjäger, the one Mary had shown to him.

Not that John wished to die, but, you know, if he was offered a choice as to what his death would be, he wouldn't pick death by hundjäger bite.

The detective wondered if Burkhardt looked any better, now that he had had time to recover...

John followed Parker to a private room with an one-way mirror, a little further in the building.

He was surprised to see Farley Kolt there, as well as two other people he didn't know, but whom hecould tell were civilians, even if in the know. One of them seemed a bit anxious at the very idea of spying on Burkhardt's last session with the shrink. John couldn't say he didn't feel a bit uncomfortable at the thought either, but he didn't think that was the reason the man was this fidgety.

If he had to guess, from Kolt's long-suffering glances at the man, the stranger was a wesen who knew just a bit too much about the guy on the other side of the mirror.

Well, John surmised, surely it was for fairness. Not everyone participating in this should be on Burkhardt's side from the beginning, after all...

Kolt glanced at Parker, then at the detective, and did not look back at the anxious man.

"Detective McClee. Fancy seeing you here."

"Really? I was under the impression you knew exactly what I'm doing at all hours of the day."

"Niet, we don't bother with monitoring the time you're actually with us, obviously."

"Obviously."

"Boys, if I can remind you why you're here...?"

"No sense of humor, Annie."

"You already told me that a few hundreds of times, Farley. Now be sweet, and shut the hell up."

John turned to look at the one-way mirror.

The man in the other room, who totally knew that the mirror on the wall wasn't just a mirror, because, Hello, police detective?, was Nick Burkhardt.

After searching for him for almost a week, after wondering if the man was still alive every day for four months, after imagining what this moment would be like for two weeks, John McClee was finally able to put a face on a name.

Sure, he had seen the man in pictures, and even on TV. But it hadn't been him, not really. It had been only a fragment of Nick Burkhardt. And it really hadn't done justice to the man.

There was something about him, that immediately caught John's eye. The detective didn't even bother looking at the psychologist on the other side of the table, too busy watching the man he had almost obsessed over for quite a time, always wondering. It wasn't that the guy radiated danger, or was particularly striking, or couldn't keep the charm off, no, nothing like some of the suspects John had interrogated over the years.

Nick Burkhardt was a handsome man. He could be sympathic if needs be. He did feel like someone to take into account. But it wasn't overwhelming, it wasn't obvious. It was...

It was just there.

As if it was so intrinsically him that it concealed itself on its own, without even trying, without pretending either. John could feel the slightly dangerous, slightly agreeable atmosphere around the man without problem. Only, had he not searched for it, he wouldn't have made a big deal of it. He wouldn't really have noticed.

This man, he thought, would have no problem going back into a more normal life. Or, as normal as a grimm's life could be. Because what had happened out there, and was redacted in Hadrian's Wall's confidential files, it hadn't changed the man one bit. Nicholas Bukhardt had always been that unassuming, perhaps a bit underestimated, but really dangerous man. Only, until now, he had never needed to show it.

This, John McClee thought, this was a man who would never be thanked for saving people who didn't even know they had needed to be saved.

So... That's it. We're done with The curious case. Hope you enjoyed.