Author's Note: Okay... This is going to mystery-esque now. I think Milligan is the detective type. P.S thanks to VeeAmAy and DramaQueen69981 for being loyal reviewers! Seriously. Thanks:)

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Stonetown Cemetery was a step above the mausoleum, and Milligan wanted only the very best for Mary Wetherall. She was pronounced dead at Saint Peters Hospital at 4:43 pm, an accidental overdose. Milligan tried to tell the police what had happened, but they shook him off.

"You're delusional... knock on the head... poor guy... poor kid too." Milligan couldn't take the apologies and pity. He said he knew where the base was, that he knew who ran it. The chief just shook her head.

"Mr. Wetherall, I'm sure you had a drug-induced nightmare, and I'm sorry for your loss, but we checked the location. It's a dud. Been vacant for years." Milligan tried to explain what the bald man had said to him, but was met with "Crazy... Government gone and screwed him up... Maybe the kid should be put in foster care... poor guy, poor kid."

He couldn't walk down his street without someone pulling him aside, offering help, a home for Kate. Milligan would insist he was fine, should be fine, could be fine. He could take care of Kate, he would be a good father. No harm could come to her if the best agent America had was her father. At least that's what he hoped.

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Six months went by, and before he knew it, Kate was talking. She would rattle off strings of words that wouldn't make any sense, than ask him, "Right, Daddy?" Milligan would nod, and say, "Right you are, Katie-Cat," and scoop her up into his big arms. He knew she would be a good agent too, some day. But he couldn't help but notice, that she beared almost no resemblance to her mother, save for her bubbly personality. She was just as curious, and energetic as Mary had been. She would have been proud of him, for raising her well.

But Milligan still couldn't let it go. Who was Mr. C? Was the bald man working for him? Why did they want him? He knew deep down that Mary was just an unfortunate obstacle. It was his fault that he couldn't protect her. Poor guy, poor kid, he thought. He loved her with all his heart. He wouldn't let some crook get away with this. Get away with murdering his wife. With leaving his only daughter motherless. It was then he decided to pursue them. To figure it out. To get revenge. For his Mary, and for Kate.

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Rick Epstein just wanted to finish his sandwich. Perched on the i-beam of the lot on 21st Street, he had opened the shiny package, and was just about to dig in, when a man with slicked back brown hair, and shoulders like a the bumper on his truck approached him.

"Er... ya know yer in a restricted area, right sir? This is a construction zone." He knocked his hard hat with a fist as if to make this clearer.

"The question is, however, is whether it's my construction zone, or yours." Rick sat up quickly, knocking over his lunch box.

"Y-Yer Mr. McCracken?" The man nodded, and looked him over with an apprehensive look. "And you are?'

Rick stuck out his hand, consciously wiping mustard on his overalls. "Rick. Rick Epstein. Sir."

McCracken smiled. "Welcome to my crew, Rick. I'm sure we'll get along fine."