The part of New York that Pete and Myka had just arrived in was not the busy, cluttered streets. It looked like any other small town. Houses were somewhat spaced on the U shaped street. The house they were looking for was an olive green house with white trim around the windows and doors. Pete and Myka stood on the porch, and Pete knocked on the door. The resident opened it.
"What do you want?" he asked with a cigarette in his left hand. He had a lot of wrinkles on his forehead, and thick, dark stubble covering his face. He was wearing a used-to-be-white sleeveless shirt and boxers.
"Secret service," Pete said, he and Myka flashing their badges. The guy reluctantly let them in, his eyes going up and down as he checked out Myka.
"So, what do ya want?" he asked. He had a gap between his two front top teeth, which were all yellow and rotting.
"We're searching for something we believe was stolen, so we have to search the homes of all people convicted or accused of stealing that live in this area," Myka said. "We need to search your house."
"Do you have a search warrant?" the guy asked, feeling accomplished. He could finally get the agents to leave.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, we do," Pete declared, handing him the warrant. The man's smug smile disappeared. "Name, please."
"Derek Danielson. What's important about it?" he asked.
"In case we find it, then you're going to be in some trouble," Pete replied. As they investigated Derek's house, they found several ashtrays full of cigarette butts and overflowing with ashes. Some were still giving off smoke.
"I'll take the basement," Pete said, heading down the wooden stairs. Myka searched the ground level, being shadowed by Mr. Danielson.
"What's in here?" Myka asked him. She turned around to face him.
"Nothing," Danielson replied. He leaned against the wall, watching Myka enter the room. When she got to the centre of the room, Danielson came up behind her and shoved her against the floor. He grabbed her by her hair and smacked her head against the concrete floor several times, until she was unconscious. He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. He went to the hall that led to the doorway, right by the basement stairs. Pete came up from the basement.
"Where's Agent Bering?" Pete asked.
"She left. One of the houses next door," Danielson lied. As Pete left, an evil smile came across Danielson's face. He closed the front door.
"Hi, Secret Service. Did a woman come to this house?" Pete asked. He showed her his badge. "She would have had the same badge as this."
"Nope, you're the only person that came by this week besides the mailman," the resident informed him. She was holding a little baby. Pete waved to the small baby and started to leave.
"Thank you for your time!" He said, not looking back at her. Onto the next house, he thought.
Myka awoke on the concrete floor. Her head was bleeding from a small cut on her forehead. She rolled onto her back, hearing footsteps outside the door.
"Pete? Is that you?" She asked. Then, the door opened. It was Danielson. He walked in.
"It's gonna hurt, but it'll all be over soon," Danielson said. His hands were shaking and he looked like he was crying. He pulled out a kitchen knife that looked like he attempted to sterilize it. Myka started backing up using her elbows and rear end. Danielson held her down using his left arm, pressing it against her shoulders and upper chest, where the neck attached to the torso. He thrust the knife into Myka's abdomen and pulled it out quickly. He pulled something out of his pocket that was round and resembled a coin. He shoved it into the wound and Myka yelled out, hoping someone would hear her. Then, when Myka opened her eyes, the room changed. It looked like a quaint little house that a middle aged couple that just married would buy.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Danielson asked Myka. He helped her up. "Go change. We have a wedding to get ready for."