St Louis, Missouri, Fairview Inn, 2019

Adrian finally made it back to his hotel room at around 6 p.m. His body ached and his mind craved rest. But before hitting the hay, he needed a shower.

He chucked his car rental keys; and emptied his pockets, including his federal badge, on the coffee table. Then flipped off his shoes without bothering to undo the laces, ignoring the internal voice of his mother chastising him for it.

The socks followed the shoes and he padded across the carpet to the bathroom, where he reached over to turn on the taps. The showerhead shuddered into life, pipes screaming for a minute until the pressure stabilized. While the water warmed up, he strolled back into the bedroom to change out of his suit.

He was now more than certain Mayer was still getting help from Grimaldi. But the FBI spent a day turning the Grimaldi mansion inside out yielding not one scrap of evidence implicating Snyder's old man. And to make matters worse, Grimaldi had somehow managed to shake the car Adrian had tailing him. Adrian shuddered to think what the man was up to, especially after hearing the morning's news about Snyder.

Adrian sighed as he removed his gun holster strap, laying it on the bed before undressing; tired fingers fumbling lazily at the buttons on his shirt. Two minutes later, he was naked and on his way back to the bathroom. But not before slipping his 40-calibar handgun out of the holster and taking it with him. After years of close calls and flying bullets, his gun went everywhere he did.

He spent a few minutes examining his body in the bedroom's full-length mirror, sighing and frowning at the imperfections brought on by age; and wishing for the physique he had in his 20s.

By the time he entered the bathroom, the mirror was totally fogged over. Steam hung below the ceiling like a cloud. He placed the gun on the stone surface next to the sink and stepped over the edge of the bath and under the heated water. It felt marvelous; better than he'd hoped. The water was just the right level of force and heat to massage deeply into his sore shoulders. Some of the tension, guilt and strain he felt over this difficult case began to melt away.

He closed his eyes, sticking his head under the flow so the water cascaded down his face.

Sound was muffled in this wet world. But not so much that he didn't hear the distinct cocking of a gun.

He pretended not to have heard it. Keeping his eyes closed, he feigned reaching for the soap, and then lurched quickly for the vicinity of where he'd left his gun. "

Don't!" Noah warned, taking aim at Adrian's temple. "Keep cool and move back."

Adrian was frozen in the stretch position. "

Don't think I won't shoot you," Noah coolly said. "Trust me… right now I'd like nothing better than to blow your brains out."

Noah's distinctive eyes, which Adrian had come to know well from photographs, were no longer their usual ocean blue. They had turned black and blank.

For the first time, Adrian truly understood the look he'd seen on Snyder's face during their interview, when Luke voiced his fear of Noah being forced to kill. Standing before Adrian now was not a civilian, not even a fugitive. Standing before Adrian now was a full-bodied, 100 percent soldier - a machine - trained to channel raw emotion into energy and complete his mission no matter the cost.

The look on this man's face was enough to petrify Adrian into submission. He nodded at Mayer, holding up both his hands and moving back as requested.

"Good," Noah nodded. "Now turn off the water."

As Adrian followed these orders, Noah reached over to grab a folded hotel towel, which he chucked at Adrian.

"Cover up," he commanded.

As Adrian caught and then wrapped the towel around his waist, he felt like hitting his head against the bathroom wall. He was being held hostage by his own gun. What a classic mistake! Annoyance building courage he asked, "What do you want?"

"How's my son?" Noah's voice wobbled for the first time; his large Adam's apple bobbed.

For a moment, Adrian was at a loss. This man was already unstable. The last thing Adrian wanted to do was add fuel to a forest fire by admitting they'd lost young Leo. He tried defiance. "Just who do you think you are barging in here like…"

"I know who you think I am. You probably believe I did all that shit they say I did. Nothing could be further from the truth. But if you believe it, then you must have some idea of how pissed off I am right now! So don't fucking mess with me!"

"He's doing great," Adrian lied. Telling Noah his son was missing would be a deadly mistake. Instinct told Adrian that.

Noah released a shaky breath. "Does he know?"

Again, Adrian's mind spun with how much to tell him. But Noah read the way Adrian broke eye contact to mean yes; and his shoulders sagged under a heavy weight. Sadness became obvious over Noah's features now, the mask he wore slipping slightly.

Adrian tried to use that to his advantage. But as he moved, his foot slipped.

"Don't!" Noah demanded, his finger pressing the trigger part-way down, making Adrian focus on the barrel. "Don't be fucking stupid, Williams! I'm only just holding it together here! And I really, really want to hurt somebody right now!" Noah's nostrils flared, his eyes flashing with a thousand emotions.

It was terrifying but oddly beautiful to watch how this man swallowed the grief and pushed it down until all that remained was the same soldier, who'd first entered the bathroom.

"Sit!" Noah yelled.

Adrian didn't question it. He sat down on the wet porcelain bottom of the bath; as sure as anything that Noah had almost killed him. And that thought seemed to have scared Noah just as much as it scared Adrian.

A full five minutes past without either one of them speaking.

"It's getting kinda chilly in here, Mayer. I mean, it's a pretty stupid place for you to come, if all you planned on doing was sitting in the same room as me for no reason."

Noah chuckled without any humour. "Yeah. I guess it is kinda crazy. I guess… I guess I am kinda crazy now."

"So… Why are you here?"

"I figured I… I've got one shot at this and… I need to trust somebody. You're that somebody."

"Why me? I'm not sure if you've noticed but I'm the one trying to apprehend you."

Noah leaned back against the vanity counter, trying to give his gun-wielding hand a break. He took a moment to speak, and when he did, his voice broke through the sentence. "Luke is…" saying the name made Noah sway as though drunk. "Luke…" He breathed in a wheezed breath; fighting back tears. He made a small pained sound but eventually got control back. "Luke was always good at reading people. He… um… he told me he didn't think you knew."

"Knew what?" Adrian asked.

"The truth."

"Snyder already told me this so called..." Adrian lifted his fingers to write the quotation marks in the air, "…'truth'… I'll tell you what I told him… I don't believe you."

"So…" Noah continued. "That's it? Luke and I were so angry at my dad for rejecting me that we stormed a military base; and murdered a bunch of people just to get to him? Even though neither of us have violent histories?"

Adrian shrugged. "It's not about what I think, Mayer. It's about what the evidence showed. I mean, if you're so innocent, why are you only fighting your case now? Why have you waited?"

"Do you remember what it was like to be 19 years old, Agent Williams? I mean, really remember? Put yourself in our shoes at 19, assuming we were innocent and framed for something we didn't do. Then add a couple of adults yelling and screaming at you and telling you about lethal injections, and the court system and how things were gonna to be! God! We just wanted to be together! We just wanted it to all go away!"

Adrian squeezed his eyes and asked, "Just what is it you want from me?"

"I've been thinking about it," Noah told him. "And Charles... I mean… Senator Marsden couldn't have done all this by himself. He had to have had help from inside law enforcement! It's the only way they could have planted the evidence. I'm sure there were a lot of people on the senator's payroll. But somebody high up, maybe even an FBI official, is holding the controls to this game."

As Noah spewed his conjecture, Adrian's investigative mind, already filled with a small seed of doubt even before he heard Prisoner Snyder's story, germinated. He couldn't help but see how this puzzle somewhat fitted together. Noah was staring at him. Adrian wasn't sure how long things in the bathroom had turned so quiet.

"You see it, don't you?" Noah softly asked. "You don't want to believe it. But no matter how you try, you can't paint over it, can you?" Adrian remained silent as Noah leaned forward. "All this case needs..." Noah told him, "...is for somebody on the inside to look at the evidence from a different perspective. One where you can see what's right in front of you rather than what you're expected to believe… Think about it." Noah was halfway through the door when he stopped and swung on his heels. "Oh, by the way? I was hiding in the closet, when you came in and... you don't have anything to worry about… you're in pretty good shape for a man in his mid-40's."

Adrian couldn't believe it, but Noah's comment made him blush. He felt the heat rise from his toes to his forehead and it temporarily stunned him. By the time he'd shaken himself loose and stumbled from the bath, Mayer was long gone.

Quickly he reached for his phone, intent on calling in the dogs, only to pause at the very last minute. Instead, he powered up his laptop resting on the room's writing desk.

Using his Level 1 security clearance, he accessed the old FBI case files; something he'd done over a dozen times that long week. This time, however, he knew exactly what he was looking for and he found it quickly.

A phone number.

He dialed and waited.

A sad and tired voice answered on the other end of the line.

"Good evening, Sir," Adrian said. "Am I speaking with Holden Snyder?"