Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
The warehouse. Conference room.
"The basic idea was that Guerrero informed you about a … situation… that's come up and then escorted you here", Chance told a still fuming Emma.
"He didn't tell me about any situation. The blow totally came out of the blue", she snarled.
"Well, there was a hard way and an easy way to get you here." Guerrero smiled, showing his incisor teeth. Chance had been wrong. He wasn't still pissed with her because she had disarmed him in the jungle. Shit like that happened – she was a well-trained agent after all. No, he was still pissed with her because she had refused to help Ilsa and Winston when they needed a Washington contact in the context of the stone plate issue. Her ridiculous behavior had put them at more risk than necessary and that, in his book, was a no go.
"You knocked me out!", she complained.
"Yeah, I chose the easy way."
Emma's face actually changed colors, he cheeks sporting a deep dark murderous red now.
He knew she'd love to wipe the smirk off his face with a swipe of her painted claws. Too bad she knew he'd retaliate and retaliate thoroughly. Instinctive self-preservation was the only thing that kept her from lashing out and he truly enjoyed yanking her leash.
Self-preservation. That was probably what put him off about her so much.
Emma always put herself first and then, if it suited her, considered the others, too. Yeah, she had run back into that building with the bomb to save the Chinese delegate, but he'd be damned if she hadn't at least vaguely in the back of her mind calculated what impact a successful rescue would have on her career.
Guerrero realized that not too many years ago he'd have asked "And? What's wrong with that?" The reason the same type of behavior made him angry now, at least when it affected … his people … was sitting right across from him and offering Emma a cup of tea.
Dude, you're in serious danger of losing your bad ass status.
The tea Chance was offering her smelt slightly fruity, strawberry with a hint of lemon, one of her favorite mixtures, very hard to come by. Still staring daggers at everyone Emma took a sip from the cup and couldn't help but let out a contented little sigh. Ah, the really good stuff you couldn't get unless you had the right contacts… wait..
"This Guerrero's tea?"
"Glad you like it."
SPLASH
She hadn't quite managed to drench his face, the son of a bitch moved backwards too fast, but the pink spot on his shirt was quite satisfying.
"Hey, Even Steven from here on you two, okay?" Chance wrested the now empty cup from Emma's hand and shot Guerrero a warning look. "Emma, this is serious. Someone made contact with us and told us he knew the Blue Ridge Mountain Killer is not on the loose anymore because you killed him. He also knows that we helped you to hush it up."
He told her about the murders the caller had tried to frame Ilsa, Winston and Ames with. Apparently they were dealing with someone who could not only talk the talk but also walk the walk. "He wants money in exchange for his silence, delivery this evening."
"But that's impossible, how can he…?"
Guerrero, who had, while Chance had been busy explaining, taken a look at some of the documents Emma had collected regarding the Blue Ridge Mountain Killer, snorted and pushed a single sheet towards Chance.
"Is this from one of the boxes in my apartment?", Emma asked, highly alarmed.
"I just took the boxes, didn't snoop around, I swear", Ames assured her. "And I'm really sorry about that vase."
"You broke into my house?"
"You've done a great job renovating it." Ames tried a tentative smile.
"You are my one and only. We complement each other perfectly. You are my eyes, I'm your hands. I can't wait till we get together again", Chance read from the sheet Guerrero had pointed out to him. He stared at Emma for a long moment. "This was sent from prison to the Blue Ridge Mountain Killer."
"Yeah, so he was gay and his lover was in prison and wrote him love letters, what's the big deal?" Emma replied, puzzled by the grave expression on Chance's face.
Winston grabbed the sheet of paper, glanced over it, stared at her: "Don't you see it?"
"See what?"
"You are my eyes, I'm your hands… Emma, they might have been lovers, but more importantly, they were partners in crime. The Blue Ridge Mountain Killer had a partner who was in prison when you murdered him", Chance said.
Emma hissed through clenched teeth. Damnit, of course! Now it made sense – the change of BRMK's MO in the last few murders, the twofold profile… they had been dealing with two killers and hadn't seen it… "What are we going to do now?"
"He asked for you to hand over the money. We'll be there and back you up – Guerrero with a shotgun in a tree, Ames in a car should a pursuit be necessary, Winston in the van, I'll be hiding close by to step in should things get physical."
"Wait a second…", Ilsa said.
"So we're going to pay him off?", Emma said, completely ignoring Ilsa.
"No, we'll try and get our hands on him. Money won't put a stop on this." Chance looked uncomfortable. No surprise. Blackmail cases like these had practically only one solution. A very final one. Emma and Guerrero had already practiced it with Dean Robinson. Chance wasn't sure he was willing to let that happen again, there had to be another option, but for now all that mattered was that they caught him.
"What about me?", Ilsa asked. "What will I do when you try and get a hold of that man?"
"You go home and catch some sleep", Chance replied and the tone of his voice made it very clear that this was not up for debate. "There is nothing you can do on site. Now, I know you've proven yourself lately, you've done really well, but this evening you stay at home. This is not for you."
The look of disappointment on her face was almost too much for him. He wanted her safe, but seeing her so crestfallen… "Not yet for you", he added.
That was a little better.
It felt strange, leaving the team behind for a job, but if she was honest with herself, deep down Ilsa knew she wouldn't be of much help and she was tired.
Chance watched her step into the elevator and frowned. He should be relieved, having her out of harm's way for a change. But something didn't feel right. The letters the partner had sent to BRMK from prison were glowing with love, no surprise Emma had mistaken them for simple signs of affection. A partnership as deep as this, partners in crime, soul mates... And then the surviving partner asks for money in exchange for forgetting everything?
It sounded like a trap. They needed to be extra careful.
A/N: The beginning of this chapter was devised by PocketSevens. Big THANK YOU for your input!