So this chapter got changed quite a lot. And by quite a lot, I mean there is basically no semblance between this and what it used to be. I much prefer this writing because I was able to bring in a character that I was really upset I hadn't been able to bring in in the first round. So if you're skimming the rewritten portions, please be sure to fully read this chapter and the next as they have fully changed!

Disclaimer: Neither Now You See Me, its characters, or the song belong to me.

Waiting in New Orleans

Life doesn't discriminate
Between the sinners and the saints.
It takes and it takes and it takes
And we keep living anyway.
We rise and we fall and we break
And we make our mistakes
And if there's a reason I'm still alive
When so many have died,
Then I'm willin' to
Wait for it.
~Wait for It by Lin-Manuel Miranda

They drove straight through the night, only stopping for gas, food, and bathroom breaks. Even then, they kept the stops to a minimum and only stopped when absolutely necessary. They had quickly fallen into a pattern, with Dylan driving to one stop, then Jack would drive to the next, and so on. For the most part, the two drove with nothing but the radio to break up the silence. It was frustrating for both of them to have to drive the speed limit when all either of them wanted to do was push the pedal to the floor and speed to New Orleans as fast as humanly possible. But with their faces plastered on every news station in the country, they couldn't risk being pulled over.

It was late in the evening when they finally reached New Orleans, and both men were glad to finally be there and out of the car. Of course, they had to find a motel out of the way, so they didn't go into New Orleans proper, but stayed just outside of the city. Dylan had a talent, Jack realized, of finding the most out of the way motel that was sketchy and clearly not the place the average person would stay in, but that wasn't the absolute worse, at least from the outside. A light rain was beginning to fall as Dylan pulled into a parking spot and turned the car off. Pulling the keys out of the ignition, he went to open the door, but Jack threw a hand out and stopped him. Dylan looked at him in confusion.

"What?"

"Maybe I should get the room."

Dylan looked at him as if he had grown two heads.

"Why? I have the cash."

"And a face that has been on every news channel for the past two days."

"And you haven't?"

"I'm also dead."

Dylan frowned, but he knew Jack had a point. Reluctantly, he reached for his wallet and pulled a wad of cash out. Jack eyed him curiously, but Dylan made no motion to explain why he just happened to have a large amount of money on him. Shrugging, Jack took the money and left Dylan alone in the car. Jack made his way inside the office and eyed it hesitantly, not sure he wanted to know if the green in the corner was mold or just decoration. There was no one at the desk, but Jack could hear high pitched laughter coming from a back room.

"Hello?" he called. Then, a bit louder, "Anybody here?"

"Marcus, stop! I have to go!" A woman laughed and the door was opened.

A middle aged woman in a tank top and short shorts bounced out of the back room bleached hair a mess. Her cheeks were flushed, but she beamed at him as she leaned over the counter.

"What can I do for you sweetie?" She asked and Jack nearly gagged at the alcohol on her breath.

"Just a room for the week, please." Jack said politely. "Two beds, if it's possible."

"You're in luck." The woman tapped the computer keyboard a few times. "We got one two bed room left. I just need a name."

"Gene Wilder." Jack answered smoothly, fingers crossed.

The woman typed the name in, before looking back at Jack and cocking her head.

"Wilder? You wouldn't be related to that dead magician by any chance would ya?"

"Yes, actually." Jack replied. "He was my cousin."

"It's a shame." The woman took him at his word and Jack breathed a sigh of relief. "He seemed like a good kid. I thought you were him back from the dead at first, but on closer look your face is a little bit rounder then his."

"Yeah, Momma always said me and Jack should have been brothers." Jack chuckled nervously and changed the subject. "How much for the room?"

She named the price and watched him closely as Jack carefully hid how much money he had and pulled out the amount plus a little. The woman's smile grew larger at the sight of the cash. She hit the cash register drawer and handed him back his change and then produced two room keys. Thanking her, Jack turned his back and started for the door, when the woman stopped him.

"Oh, and Gene?" He turned and she flashed him a sly grin, "If you need anything, my room is 202."

She winked and made her way to the backroom where the high pitched squeals quickly started up again. Jack shuddered and hurried out the door. Climbing in the car, he handed Dylan back the money and motioned off to the right.

"Room 115." He said and Dylan quickly pulled the car down in front of their room.

They grabbed two of the backpacks and the duffle bag before locking the car and making their way into the room. Jack was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the room. The beds looked sturdy, and the locks on the door were in good shape. The definite mold in the back corner was concerning, but overall it wasn't as bad as he had been expecting. He had definitely stayed in worse.

"Any problems registering?" Dylan asked as he locked the door behind him.

Jack closed the shades and collapsed on the bed closest to the window.

"Nope."

"They didn't recognize you? That woman seemed to be eyeing you pretty closely."

Jack blushed. "Sure, but she had me mixed up with my poor dead cousin."

Dylan gave him a confused look and Jack quickly explained what had happened, leaving out the woman's final offer. There was no reason for Dylan to need to know about that.

"Gene Wilder? Seriously, Jack?" Dylan stared at the younger man incredulously.

"What?" Jack asked innocently. "I thought it was pretty good."

"Next time just register as Willy Wonka why don't you."

"I was thinking more of Jim from Blazing Saddles."

Dylan shook his head and pulled out his phone as he sank onto the bed. He frowned as the phone flickered to life for a moment before shutting off as the battery died. Placing the phone back in his pocket, he turned to Jack.

"Mind if I borrow your phone? Mine's dead."

"Knock yourself out. I'm going to take a shower." Jack tossed him the phone and grabbed an extra pair of clothes out of his backpack and made his way to the bathroom. "Don't read my messages!"

Dylan rolled his eyes and quickly dialed Alma's number. It was early morning her time, and he wasn't sure she would answer, so his surprise when she picked up after the second ring was genuine.

"Dylan? Oh my god, are you all right? What about the others? Are you safe?" She broke off into French and Dylan smiled despite himself.

"Alma. Alma, calm down. I'm fine and as safe as can be for the time being." He hesitated, not wanting to worry the Interpol agent but knowing she would kill him if he didn't fill her in. "Jack is with me, but Atlas, Merritt, and Henley have been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped? By who?"

"Thaddeus Bradley." Speaking quickly, he filled the woman in on all that had happened in the past few days.

When he had finished, there was silence on the other end of the phone. When she did speak, it was quietly and he could hear the worry in her voice.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Not yet at least. But I can't let Bradley get away with this."

"No, of course not." Alma agreed. "What can I do?"

"Nothing." Dylan replied quickly. "I don't want you involved."

"Try and stop me."

"If anyone were to find out that you were even in contact with us…"

"Tell me what to do, Dylan, or so help me I will be on a plane today."

Dylan sighed.

"We don't know what we're up against. All we know is that Bradley has the Horsemen and the location he sent me."

"What location?"

"What are you going to do?"

"What I am best at: research."

Dylan smiled slightly and gave the address from memory. He could practically see her mind working as she started planning where to begin.

"I'll call back when I have something, ok?" she said. "And Dylan?"

"Yes?"

"Be careful."

"I will."

"Prenez soin de mon détective homme."*

"Bien sûr ma chère." **

Jack had chosen that moment to exit the bathroom and he gave Dylan an odd look before shaking his head and pulling his shirt on the rest of the way. Running a hand through his damp hair, he turned to Dylan.

"How's Alma?"

"She's fine. Currently researching Bradley."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you're letting her help at all."

"You try telling her no."

Jack shrugged and grinned.

"Good point. So what's the plan?"

"Rest for now. We wait and see what Alma turns up and then we go to the location Bradley sent us." He paused and met Jack's eyes. "How good are you at scouting?"

"I guess we'll find out."

"I guess we will."

With that, Jack laid back and was asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. Dylan chuckled at the man and grabbed his clothes for a quick shower. When he was done, he checked the door one more time. Satisfied it was locked, he returned to his own bed and turned the light off. Leaning back and closing his eyes, Dylan forced himself to try and get some sleep. The easy part was done, but the hard part was yet to come.

*Take care my detective man.
**Of course, my dear.
(If these translations are wrong, blame Google Translate. I don't know French.)