Head notes: Okay so, I'm sorry if Quinn is a little out of character in this chapter. My justification for it is that every time John and/or Harold say "So-and-so would kill anyone in order to blah-blah-blah," one or both of them end up almost getting killed by that character.

Chapter Seven

Quinn didn't know what to make of this man. Hawkins held up his head with an air of intelligence that screamed 'I know what you did.' He almost wanted to laugh despite the intensity of his gaze. Even if Mr. Hawkins knew the first thing about him and HR, he wouldn't be able to prove it. By wasting his time talking to him instead of the police, Mr. Hawkins was ensuring that he would end up dead before he could prove it. Pretending he didn't notice Mr. Hawkins' anger, he returned the angry glare with a small smile. An identical twin of the one he had given carter earlier that day.

"Mrs. Jones said you wanted to talk to me," he said conversationally.

"I would like to speak to you about your organization," Hawkins began. "The one commonly referred to as HR."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Quinn said, deciding to play dumb so that he could figure out just how much Mr. Hawkins knew.

"There's really no point in denying your involvement, Mr. Quinn," Hawkins said. "My associates and I have been paying very close attention to you."

"Your associates," Quinn repeated. "So you work with the Man in the Suit." It wasn't a question. Quinn grinned at himself. This man was showing all of his cards. When this man was done talking to him, he would know exactly who he needed to kill to keep HR secret. Starting with this man, of course. His mind was already coming up with a dozen possible scenarios.

"You really should be more concerned about yourself than me, Mr. Quinn," Hawkins said.

"I figured out why you murdered Detective Szymanski and the assistant district attorney," he continued.

"I did not kill anyone." Quinn denied.

"You and I both know that you killed them," Hawkins repeated calmly. "And I know why."

"So tell me," Quinn challenged. "Why would I kill anyone?" The sooner Hawkins revealed what he knew, the sooner HR could kill him.

Mr. Hawkins leaned forward in his chair slightly. An act that demanded attention.

"Your organization was decimated after Agent Donnelly got a hold of the HR ledger that Zambrano kept," He began. "You needed money. Elias was obviously out of the question seeing as he doesn't quite trust you anymore. So you contacted Elias' rivals, the Russians, to make them a deal. But they were only interested in one thing: freedom. So you tried to frame Detective Szymanski. But when that didn't work you couldn't take any chances. You knew he would testify if he got the chance. So you killed him and the assistant District Attorney. The Russians got off the hook and you got the funding you needed."

"That is quite a story," Quinn said.

"Yes it is," Hawkins returned, the glare growing far colder than Quinn had ever seen before. "Unfortunately it doesn't end there."

He placed a picture in between them and Quinn recognized his godson, Cal Beecher staring up at him. Quinn looked up to meet Hawkins' gaze.

"What is this?" he demanded, trying to remain cool.

"That is your best friend's son who you murdered," Hawkins said coolly, anger and disgust seeping into his voice. "You weren't there, but you killed him all the same. When he started asking questions about Detective Szymanski, you knew it would lead him to you. You had no reservations about killing the one person who had trusted you his entire life."

"I assume you have a point in telling me all this," Quinn said.

"My point, Mr. Quinn," Hawkins began. "Is that although you have gotten away with almost everything your entire life, I am going to ensure that you will never hurt another person."

"Oh, really," Quinn laughed, amused. "What can you do to me?"

"I'm glad you asked," Mr. Hawkins said, putting his briefcase on the desk and flipping it open.

He pulled out a laptop and put the briefcase on the floor. He tapped on the laptop for a few minutes and then turned the screen so that Quinn could see it. He immediately recognized the numbers on the computer. They were his bank accounts and they were quickly draining. His face paled as he realized that the man in his office had remotely accessed his bank accounts. Trying to act like it didn't bother him, he looked up at Hawkins. He had clearly underestimated this man.

"You might not care so much about money," Mr. Hawkins began. "But not even you can deny the fact that you need it to run your organization. So, I'm taking it from you. Oh and since the Russians are the ones who provide the funds, I took the liberty of accessing their individual bank accounts and emptying them as well. As well as every single member of your organization. I also took all the evidence that we uncovered about you and your organization and sent them to the FBI by means of an anonymous tip. I think you can expect to be arrested sometime tomorrow morning."

Dropping the act, Quinn gave Hawkins a glare that would have made Simmons shrink.

"I have good lawyers, Mr. Hawkins," he assured him.

"Oh yes, and they would be so willing to work for a crook who has no money," Hawkins replied sarcastically, returning Quinn's glare with one of his own. "You only have money that you have on hand, and I'm supposing it's not much. Most people don't bother to use cash. Preferring to use easier methods of payment. What they don't realize is that it also makes it easier for people like me to steal their information."

Hawkins broke eye contact just long enough to pack up his laptop and put it in his briefcase. Then he stood and delivered one more scathing look before turning to walk out of the room.

Quinn sat numbly for a few seconds. It had just been a matter of minutes and this Mr. Hawkins had taken away everything he cared about. Anger rose in his chest like he'd never felt before. He wanted this man to die. Normally he would contact Terney or some other higher official that he trusted and they would take care of it. But they didn't have a few days to get the job done. He was going to be arrested in the morning and he could only assume that the others would be arrested soon after. He realized that the opportunity would be lost forever if he let Hawkins walk out of his office now.

Standing up, Quinn raced after the little man, his fingers closing around a letter opener on his desk. Hawkins sensed movement at the last second and the briefcase dropped from his fingers. Mr. Hawkins cried out in pain as his back crashed into the bookshelves against the wall. But he recovered quickly enough to catch Quinn's wrist as the blade on the letter opener flashed down toward him. Quinn could feel Hawkins' pulse quicken as he pressed harder against his throat, and felt some satisfaction at the panic building behind Hawkins' eyes.

XxXxXx

Special Agent Donnelly arrived at Quinn's office with a few other agents. He'd been a little skeptical when John had told him that Quinn was the head of HR. Pointing out to John that he had arrested the head of HR, Landon Walker. But after a few minutes and a lot of good points, he felt that Quinn was at least worth looking into. He'd been reluctant to bring anyone with him thinking it might give away his affiliation with John. But John had promised that he wouldn't be anywhere near Quinn's office. So he had selected a few other agents to accompany him.

Well, okay he wouldn't call it affiliation. He'd interacted with John in order to save his daughter from Stanton, but they still weren't exactly friends. But even so, if the Bureau ever found out that he had worked with him, regardless of the reasons, he would be fired, if not arrested for treason. He shook himself, forcing himself to focus and flashed his badge to the receptionist at the front desk.

"Special Agent Donnelly, I'm here to speak with Alonzo Quinn." And possibly arrest him if John's anonymous tip is right, he added to himself.

"He's meeting with someone, but you could probably meet with him after." The receptionist replied, gesturing at the chairs.

Donnelly didn't take a seat. Whenever meeting with possible suspects he never wanted to waste time sitting down. What if something happened? What if the suspect tried to run, or attack him before he could question him? If something like that happened, he always wanted to be prepared to move. The logical part of his brain always questioned this habit. But it was the one thing he always held on to.

All of a sudden, he heard a dull crash coming from Quinn's office. It wasn't very loud but he heard it. Ignoring the receptionist's protests, he drew his gun and burst into the office, vaguely aware of the other agents following him.

Quinn had a man pinned against the wall of his office. He was choking the man with one hand and trying to attack him with a letter opener with the other hand. The other man had a grip on Quinn's arm and was doing his best to keep the blade away from him. He was doing a fine job of it, but if the panic in the man's eyes was any indication, Donnelly knew it wouldn't last long.

"FBI!" he announced loudly. "Drop the weapon!"

Quinn heard him, but didn't drop the weapon. Instead, he forced the man in front of him and held the letter opener to his throat.

"I will kill him, Agent Donnelly," Quinn said.

Donnelly scowled at the cowardly move. Hiding behind a hostage was usually something a suspect did out of desperation, as a last line of defense. When he knew he was going down but was determined to resist his arrest as long as possible. Still, Donnelly knew what it was like to be a hostage and he would do his ultimate best to ensure that this man lived.

The man struggling in Quinn's grip looked at him in fear. At first, Donnelly assumed that the man was simply afraid for his life. But looking at him again, he noticed that at least part of his fear was toward him. Realizing this, he lowered his gun slightly, confused. Quinn took this as a sign of retreat. He grinned.

"Now, Agent Donnelly," Quinn began, his voice cool and calm. "You are going to let me leave with this man."

"I don't think so," Donnelly said, stiffening his arm. "I'm not letting you leave this building, and you are going to drop the weapon and release the hostage."

Quinn shrugged and raised the letter opener, malicious intent glinting in his eyes.

"Alright," Donnelly shouted before Quinn could stab the man. He laid his weapon on the floor, despising Quinn even more. He heard the agents behind him dropping the weapons too.

"Now, move aside and let me leave with this man." Donnelly suddenly regretted not having John here. From what he'd seen personally, the man could probably solve this with a head-shot. But he couldn't let Quinn leave with this man. If he could do nothing else, he had to distract him long enough to come up with a plan.

"Why," Donnelly asked.

"It's not your concern," Quinn said. "Just step aside and we will go."

Donnelly shook his head.

"I can't let you leave with a hostage." Donnelly said, positioning himself in front of the door.

Quinn suddenly dropped the 'nice guy' facade and became livid.

"You think this is a game, Agent Donnelly?" Quinn shouted. "I can assure you, it's not. Step aside right now or I will kill him."

Donnelly couldn't believe what he saw next. The man struggling in Quinn's grip suddenly raised his thumb and jammed it in Quinn's eye. Donnelly was saved from having to decide whether to laugh or not by Quinn's pain filled scream. Quinn dropped the letter opener and threw the man to the side as if he were a rag doll, reaching up to massage his eyes.

While Quinn was thus distracted, Donnelly quickly scooped up his gun and fired a round into Quinn's shoulder. The same shoulder that had just finished healing from the previous gunshot wound. Donnelly strode over to Quinn and forced him onto his feet, taking out his handcuffs.

"Alonzo Quinn, you are under arrest." he said, snapping the handcuffs around Quinn's wrists. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." He handed Quinn over to his fellow agents. "Make sure he doesn't get away." Quinn flashed Donnelly a cold glare before being forced out of his office.

Donnelly looked around and found the man Quinn had threatened still sitting on the floor.

Normally, Donnelly would have processed Quinn's arrest without a second glance at the hostage. But unlike his former self, Donnelly knew from experience that it was one thing to walk away from a life threatening situation. Walking away psychologically unscathed was a different matter altogether.

There were days when he would close his eyes and feel the gun to the back of his head, or see Stanton pulling out her cell phone to activate the bomb on Julie's chest. There were days he would come home late at night and hear Julie wake up screaming from yet another nightmare. Sometimes the aftermath of such a situation was more damaging than the actual thing.

He made his way to the man on the floor and held out his arm to help him up.

"Are you okay," He asked the man.

"As well as can be imagined, I suppose," the man answered, grabbing his hand and standing up with a painful grimace. He was surprisingly calm for having narrowly escaped death. But maybe that was just his way of dealing with a stressful situation.

"What's your name?" Donnelly asked. The man paused for a second. Donnelly got the impression that he didn't like sharing his personal information. And he was still well aware of the man's nervousness.

"Norman Hawkins," the man finally answered.

"Well, Mr. Hawkins, your composure was commendable," Donnelly said. "If you could wait here a moment, I will be back shortly to take your statement."

XxXxXx

End Notes: Yes, Finch is nervous about Donnelly seeing him for a good reason. That will be explained in the next chapter.