Two Days Later

The gymnasium wasn't as full as Walker hoped it would be and he had to thank the flu epidemic that has been sweeping through the schools. He hoped his children would stay clear of it, but Ray appeared to be coming down with something. That's all he needed was a sick four year old kid at home. He took a deep breath then nodded at his lead instructor to finish the classes.

As Toby Henderson took the students through the end of class drills he made his way to the back of the gymnasium. Here, he grabbed a towel from his gym bag, wiped his face then turned his attention to the class.

"Bow to Mr. Walker!" The students turned in unison and bowed to him, which Walker returned, his heart swelling up with honor at his students' smiles. "Turn, bow to me and to the flag!"

Once class was bowed out, the students quickly dispersed to the bleachers to pick up their gym bags and other belongings. Walker threw his towel back into his bag just as student, Gabby Gonzalez came running up to him.

"Mr. Walker, something has happened to your truck!" She led him to the gym door, pushed it open and pointed to his truck where spray paint had been sprawled all over it. "Sorry sir, didn't see who did it, Tommy saw it when he went outside."

Walker nodded his head, thanked the young girl then walked to his truck to see the local gang graffiti sprawled all over it. "Not again." He rubbed his hands through his hair as he went to the front of the vehicle to see they had egged it as well. "Dang it!"

Toby came up to his side, his face showing his anger. "It's the Hillstreet Mafia." He glanced around at the graffiti which decorated the neighborhood. "Those little punks…"

"Toby, it's okay." Walker blew through his lips then turned to the teen. "I'm going to go in and call the police. Get this on record." He patted Toby's shoulder. "Why don't you change into your street clothes? I'll get someone to take you home today."

Later that day Walker stepped into C.D.'s still furious at what had happened to his truck. That would make it the third time the Hillstreet Mafia had tagged his vehicle since he began teaching at that school six months ago. Unfortunately it came with his line of work and he knew it will happen again. Wonder what Alex would say about the vandalism?

He walked to a booth in the back then sat down wearily, his face buried in his hands. Judy, the waitress handed him a glass of water then asked him what he wanted. He told her the usual and she left with a smile. Within minutes he was soon greeted by Trivette and Billings who sat across from him with heavy sighs.

"Are you ready to meet Williamson?" Asked Trivette.

Walker's head snapped up. "That's tonight, isn't it?" He groaned then shook his head. "As ready as I can be." He smiled as his wife stepped up to him with Ray asleep in her arms. "Hey, Alex." He stood up, got their son from her then gently laid him against his shoulder. Ray stirred slightly, his head lifting up with a confused look on his face. "It's okay, little guy. Just go back to sleep." As his son's head fell back onto his shoulder he slowly sat back down.

Trivette sighed heavily as he checked his watch. "Williamson should be here in about twenty minutes. Do you want us to be here or nearby?"

"Nearby, don't want to scare him off if he is involved." He stroked his son's back as the nerves kicked in. "Did you figure out the identity of the officer who was found this morning?"

Billings nodded. "Detective Jose Gonzalez." He sighed heavily as he shook his head. "We have word that Marcellinio found and now has Manny Calone hostage." He turned to Trivette then sipped at his water. "Why Calone, I don't know? Unless he knows something that you know. And if that's the case, Marcellinio might be after you."

Walker gently handed his son back to his wife. "It's about that time." He took a deep breath as Judy handed him his meal. "Thanks, Judy."

Judy smiled. "No problem, Walker." She gently rubbed Ray's back. "Will he have chicken nuggets tonight?"

Alex gave a nod. "Not so sure, he's not feeling too good. I'll have my usual though. We'll be sitting over there." She pointed to a booth closer to the front door where it was a bit more quieter. "Have fun, cowboy."

Walker kissed his wife then took a deep breath. "Definitely, should be interesting."

The bar was located down in the Fort Worth Stockyards which appeared to be more of a tourist trap than anything else. There appeared to be several buildings and other events that seemed to scream the old west. Jarod Williamson parked his car a ways from the bar, in a communal parking lot and slowly made his way down the crowded street. It was evening on a weekend and he could see several people stumbling around obviously drunk. What would drive somebody to eat or even hang out here?

As he stepped into the bar he instantly saw the Ranger's wife and kids sitting at a booth by the door. Walker's wife glanced up, her mouth instantly dropping open at the site of him. He smiled at her then glanced around the bar till he spotted Walker sitting closer to the back. As he glanced around the bar he made sure he remembered where Trivette and Billings sat, along with Gage and Sydney with their two year old daughter. Once he committed there locations to memory he made his way to Walker's booth.

Walker quickly stood up and smiled at Williamson. "You must be Isaac Smith." They shook hands and Williamson was rather surprised at the Ranger's grip. "Please, sit down."

As he sat he took a good look at the man before him, his brain going through the many injuries Walker had suffered because of Brookdale. He could easily see the scars that traced the man's face, especially a deep one on his left cheek. There was also his right eye which appeared almost smoky in appearance. Wonder if that was because of the damage done to it? It also drooped slightly which gave the Ranger a slight drugged or worn out look. Then there was the circular scar on the man's throat where a breathing tube had to be inserted to keep him alive. Man, Brookdale really did a number on this man.

His attention went to the man's right wrist where he saw a thick, pink scar running vertical on both sides of the arm. His photographic brain remembered the Ranger had to have a steal rod put in after the final fight with Brookdale. He almost laughed at how Brookdale managed to injure the Ranger numerous times.

Walker took a deep breath then laced his hands on the table top. "I know you're not Isaac Smith." This didn't draw a reaction from Williamson, instead he leaned back into the booth's vinyl seat and waited for the Ranger to continue. "You're an officer from Galveston named, Jarod Williamson. Use to be a detective for homicide."'

Williamson applauded then leaned forward, a smile on his face. "I see ya friend, Ranger James Trivette is on top of things." He sighed heavily as he shrugged his shoulders. "Had to change my name in order for ya to see me. I've been all over the papers and knew with ya history, that you may have suspicions about me."

"That I do. And I hope you understand." Walker took a drink of his tea then turned his head to look at his wife and children. "What do you really want with me?"

"Listen, my intentions are noble." Williamson took a piece of paper out of his jean's front pocket and slid it across the table. The adoption statement he just handed Walker was legit. It was the only valid evidence Williamson had of his blood family. "Unfortunately, it doesn't say much."

Walker picked up the letter and began to read it slowly. Williamson knew he had problems reading, so he waited patiently as Walker's finger traced the page. After a few minutes he put the paper down and motioned for Ranger Trivette to come to their table.

Trivette patted Walker's shoulder as he picked up the paper. "It's all legit. Doesn't say much, just states his family was from Choctaw, Oklahoma and that they gave him up for adoption. There's some legal stuff mixed in, but it's just a statement, nothing else."

"Thanks." When Trivette left Walker shook his head, his face slightly pink. "I have problems reading." He sighed heavily as he handed the paper back to Williamson. "My family isn't from Choctaw, sorry."

Williamson faked a frown then slowly nodded his head. "I see." He folded the paper and put it back into his pocket. A small part of him had hoped that Walker was indeed his brother. He has spent too much of his life being alone and in a way he wanted to be comforted by the fact that he could possibly get to know his blood family. "Can we do tests anyway? Ya know, to make sure?"

"Couldn't hurt." Walker smiled. "It would be crazy if we were brothers. That would make another part of my family that I never knew about." He let out a slight chuckle then sipped his tea. "If you want, we can go to the Company tomorrow and do the tests."

Williamson sipped at his water. "Will do." His voice faded as he saw Walker's eyes glaze over. He glanced around him to see if anybody else spotted it then turned his attention back to the Ranger. "Walker?" This had to be a seizure, thought Williamson as he watched the Ranger's hands twitch ever so slightly.

Walker's hands finally stopped twitching as he rapidly blinked his eyes, but it didn't take away the puzzled look. Williamson glanced up as Trivette walked up to the table with a smile.

"It's just a small seizure, he'll be okay." Trivette patted Walker's shoulder. "Hey buddy, you know what happened?"

"I had a seizure, right?" Walker's voice showed his confusion as he grabbed his head. "I'm going to lay down." He glanced up at Williamson to show eyes that held not physical pain, but more of a deep, emotional pain. Wonder what it was like to be inflicted with epilepsy? "Sorry about this. I'll call you tomorrow, to let you know when I'll be at the Company."

Williamson nodded. "Will do." He stood to his feet and stopped Walker as he tried to do the same. "Just rest. I'll see ya tomorrow."

Next Day

The strip club was rather busy as Marcellinio made his way through the building towards the warehouse. As he stepped in, Howard nodded his head and smiled at him. Marcellinio returned the smile then proceeded down the long hall till he got to the stairs. From here, he did his usual routine which lead him into the large, underground warehouse. Once inside he went down a short hall till he reached the room. Even before he opened the thick, steel door he could hear the man whimpering inside.

As he unlocked the door, a man greeted him with a rifle. "Oh, it's you boss." Gordman opened the door wider and waved for Marcellinio to come inside. "Great timing, I think he's about to crack." He turned his attention to Martin who had apparently shocked the man numerous times with a cattle prod. Marcellinio could see the bright, red blotches that covered the man's chest and arms. "I think you should hear this boss."

Marcellinio went to a folded chair by the wall, grabbed it then sat it in front of Calone. He straddled it backwards so he could rest his chin on the chair's back piece. "Calone, Calone. You know why you're here, don't you?"

The older man whimpered as he nodded his head. "Yes, but I swear I only talked to Walker that night." His voice shook from pain and fear. "You gotta believe me." He screamed as Martin shocked him in the shoulder. "But, I did give him something." Calone looked up, a grin spreading across his bruised face. "You know that two million that went missing? And the warehouse that I told you existed, but you could never find? Walker knows where all of it is at."

This got Marcellinio so angry he swiftly stood up and threw the chair to the side. "What are you trying to tell me?!" His voice echoed in the small room. "You were behind the missing product! Why! What was your motive!"

Calone chuckled. "Walker, told me that if I proved to him that I was on his side I wouldn't get jail time. We talked on the phone briefly and that night, I showed him the locations of all the goods. He didn't need a map, said it was too risky. So, he committed it all down to memory." He began to laugh even more. "He knows where every one of your warehouses are, Marcellinio."

Martin shocked the man in the neck which made him twitch violently. As he pulled the cattle prod away, he shook his head then slammed the handle into the man's face. This broke Calone's nose and it began to bleed uncontrollably.

"I told you what I know! Now, just kill me!" Calone screamed out as he pulled at his restraints. "Just get it over with, Marcellinio! I'm not going to talk!"

Marcellinio rubbed his face as he was faced with a serious dilemma. This man knew of the locations of the missing loot and Marcellinio knew, no matter how much he tortured Walker, he would never get the information from the Ranger. But he couldn't keep this man alive. He had to make an example out of this man, to show that if anybody did talk they would suffer greatly for it. After several minutes of pacing he waved at Martin then left the room.

The door opened behind him letting out Calone's screams of anguish as Martin finished the task he had started. Gordman closed the door then dug into his suit's coat pocket till he found the packet of sunflower seeds he had just in case Marcellinio got a cigarette fix. He thanked his guard, quickly took the bag and ripped it open.

He had quit smoking three years ago when his uncle Bobby died from emphysema. His uncle laid in a hospital for weeks, suffering from pain and literally coughing up pieces of his lung. He didn't die an honorable death which made the mafia criticize the Marcellinio family. Vinnie didn't want that to happen to him and he quickly dropped the smoking habit. But it left him cranky and sometimes downright bitter, especially during stressful situations.

Gordman shook his head as they walked towards his office. "Walker should get the pictures today and Smokes' plan is moving forward." He glanced behind him as Martin stepped out of the room, his shirt splattered with blood. "I'll get the body out of here."

Company B

It always pained Walker to walk down the halls of the Company, but he was always greeted with smiles and even sometimes hugs. This time around his visit was to Daniel Newborn, a chemist for the Texas Rangers. Daniel had taken samples of DNA from both Walker and Williamson and it will take about three days to get a result. Till then Walker will have to wait patiently for the news. Part of him wished that Williamson was indeed his brother, but another part of him still didn't trust the man. For some reason he sill got a strange feeling about Williamson.

"Dad!" He turned around as John came running up to him, a large cardboard envelope in his hands. "I was at your house to pick up some sparring gear that I had left and saw this had come in the mail. Thought you might be interested in it."

Walker took the envelope from his son to see that it didn't have a return address. Curious he ripped the tab then slowly opened it, unsure of what laid inside. He could see photos and judging by the graininess they weren't taken with a good camera. As he pulled them out, John moved to his side to get a better look. Both of their mouths dropped at what they saw.

John quickly turned his head and spotted Gage walking down the hall. "Gage! Come here, quick!" When their friend approached them John showed Gage the pictures. "What are these?"

Gage snatched the pictures from John, his eyes going wide. "Where did you get these?"

"They came in the mail for dad. Whose that man with my father?"

"A suspect." Gage sighed heavily then turned his attention to Walker. "Walker, do you remember meeting Calone?"

Walker shook his head. "I don't remember any of this." He flipped through the photos, his face showing his confusion. "What are they trying to say?"

John took the envelope, peered inside and saw a small note on the bottom. "There's something in here."

Gage took the envelope, went to a desk then shook the contents out. Once on the desk he used a pen to turn the paper around so he could read it. "Walker knows something. Calone talked to him that night. We need to know what." He shook his head. "That's it." He turned to Walker to see him still confused. "You have no idea, do you?"

"No, I don't." Walker glanced at the photos to see a part of him long gone because of the attack. These pictures were the last images of him as a Texas Ranger and it made him angry. He didn't know when the attack on his life had happened that night, but surely it wasn't that much after this meet. "Maybe I should go back to the alley? It could jar something."

Did that just come from his mouth? Walker quickly put the pictures down as his hands began to get clammy. For the last few years just the thought of going back to that alley always got him to panic. He didn't know why, but he was too embarrassed to talk about it. After all he was Walker, a man with no fears, who always faced anything that came to him with a positive attitude. If only people knew that ever since his return from the hospital several years ago he fought off depression almost daily.

Trivette stepped up to them, lifted the pictures then turned to Walker. "When do you want to go back down there?"

"I didn't know you were here." Walker's voice betrayed him and it showed his nervousness. He swallowed hard then slowly nodded his head. "Yes, but I don't want Alex to come. She's been through enough, I don't want to put her through anymore."

Sydney approached them with a smile. "Got word from Dallas, P.D." She patted Walker's shoulder. "Mike finally passed. He's SWAT now, as a sniper." Her attention went to the photos which were sprawled on Gage's desk. "Who took these?"

Gage shrugged. "Not sure, Walker got them in the mail today." He sighed heavily as he put the photos in evidence bags. "This is big, Walker. We might be able to break your case with these. That or move ahead."

"That's good to know." He took a deep breath then rubbed his hands through his hair. His nerves began to take over and if he didn't calm himself down soon, he will began to visibly shake. "Guess I will go to the alley sometime soon," He took a deep breath. "If I need to."

Trivette placed his hand around Walker's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Walker nodded his head. "Yeah." He smiled at his friend. "I'm okay, just thinking. Let's go to the alley." He took a deep, shaky breath. "Before I change my mind."