"Whit, come look at this!" Daniel knelt beside one of the guns, "It looks like this one was shot!" He looked around, "Judging by the position, it was shot out of his hand by someone in front of him. And here, there was another person right behind him. And one more standing near where we entered; cutting off his exit, it looks like," Jones went over beside Mr. Whitaker and examined the young man, who, Jones mentally confirmed, was indeed Richard Maxwell. "Hm. He's holding a cell phone," He put on a pair of rubber gloves, then picked up the phone and turned it on. "Well, look at that!"

Whit looked over Jones' shoulder, "What?"

"Nothing! Nothing on it what so ever. No contacts, no recent activity, not even any games. Everything's been erased! And what sort of person would erase Angry Birds?"

Whit sat back, bewildered, "Erased? Why would he, or someone, erase everything?"

Jones started examining Richard. "Huh. A bullet hole, right through his jacket. Wait," He examined him more closely, "Yeah, the bullet missed it's target, it looks like. Hit his collarbone. Probably broke it, too. But- wait! He's still alive?"

Whit looked over, and was suddenly very aware of Richard's chest rising and falling. It was very faint, but he could still see it. "We've got to get him to a hospital, fast!"

Richard woke up in a hospital bed, wondering where he was. He was still groggy, but he could hear two people sitting nearby, conversing in hushed tones.

"...find out what's going on. I need to talk to him."

"But he's in no condition to be interrogated. He needs rest, and being grilled with questions isn't going to make him heal any faster. If you want to know what happened, you can wait at least a couple more hours."

"Oh, fine! But you need to call me as soon as he can explain without passing out!" There was the sound of one of them standing up and walking out of the room.

"Is he gone yet?"

Someone chuckled, "Richard, how long have you been listening?"

He opened his eyes, and saw the familiar face of Mr. Whitaker. "Wha-? How'd I get here? What happened?"

"Well, Inspector Jones, who just left, was hoping you could tell him that. He's been waiting for you to wake up ever since you were brought in here. When we found you, you were unconscious in an alley. You apparently were shot."

Richard winced, "Oh...yeah. Vesp- What were you doing there, anyway?"

Mr. Whitaker leaned forward, "Well, I was following Jones. He had planted a tracking device on you and was following your trail. The signal led straight to an alley, and, like I said, that's where we found you. So, what were you doing there?"

Richard started to say something, then stopped. He frowned, like he was trying to remember something. Then answered, "I was... meeting a, uh, friend."

"A friend that brought four guns? And I don't think a friend would try to kill you, even if you disagreed on something. What were you really doing?"

"I-," Richard sighed, "I can't tell you. At least, not until I get clearance."

"What? Clearance? From whom? And, if you don't mind me asking, what are you talking about?"

There was a knock at the door. Richard called out, "Come in."

A woman with curly red hair and huge glasses poked her head in, then said to someone behind her, "Yeah, it's the right room." She was followed by a man with equally hideous glasses and a beard. The woman pulled off her hair, which was actually a wig, revealing long reddish-brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. She removed her glasses as well, and so did the man behind her. He then pulled off his fake facial hair, and walked more to the center of the room. The woman, who looked much younger without her disguise, stood at the foot of Richard's bed and said, "Look, Maxwell. That was either the most bravest of the most stupidest thing I've ever seen!"

Richard sighed and rolled his eyes, "Yeah, nice to see you again, too, Amy. You know, considering I'm not dead. How can you stand living with her, Dan?"

The man (more like boy) grinned, "Well, being a trained Madrigal I'm kinda used to it. You know, torture?"

Richard started to laugh, then winced, "So, what are you guys doing here?"

The girl, Amy, walked around to the left side of the bed, "Why do you think, dummy? We came to see if you were alright. When we picked up the Vespers we thought- I- I thought- We were worried."

Richard stared in to space, his mind drifting away to a memory that was slowly coming back...

"Ah. Calling for help? It won't do any good."

"Sending coordinates-"

"Put. The phone. Down."

"No way."

"Richard? Is that Cheyenne?"

"Well, if it isn't Dan Cahill himself. Dan, hang up the phone and disregard everything you've heard or I'll blast Maxwell here so hard he'll stick to the wall."

"Don't do it Dan! She's bluffing."

"Really? Do I look like I'm bluffing?"

A gunshot. The sound of a tazer going off. Blinding pain... Dan's voice..."Richard? Richard!"

"Mission...accomplished."

"Richard!"

"Richard? Have you heard a single word I've said?"

Richard shook off the memory, "What? Sorry. I was...sorry."

Amy sighed, "Richard. This is how you got into this in the first place. By not listening. To me, specifically."

"I was given clearance!"

"But not by me."

Dan cleared his throat, "Um, Amy? I was the one who gave him clearance."

"Dan! I told him he couldn't!"

"But it was a good plan! A little risky, but it worked!"

"Dan," Amy was trying to stop herself from either strangling him or breaking down in tears, "It worked, yes. But at what price? If Richard had- I don't think I could- We thought you were dead, you idiot!" Amy kicked Richard's bed to emphasize her point.

Richard started to sit up, "That was kinda the idea. If you guys had worried about me, You would've forgotten to tell the rest of the Cahills to monitor any suspicious activity, Vesper-related or otherwise."

"Wow, Amy. He's got you nailed."

Amy pushed Richard back down as he started to groan at the strain, "Shut up."

"Um," Mr. Whittaker interrupted, "I don't want to bother you, but what is going on here?!"

Richard glanced at Amy, then struggled to sit up again, "Oh, yeah. Mr. Whittaker, Amy and Dan Cahill. Amy and Dan, John Avery Whittaker. Um, please don't erase his memory or anything, Amy. He's one of my closest friends. He can be trusted."

"I'm sorry, but what are you talking about? I though this was an attempted murder/gunfight thingy, and now your talking like something happened the police don't know about!"

"Actually, that's exactly what happened."