Wow, I am so sorry this took so long. I seriously thought I had posted this. So in the last chapter, we had Ed and Kenzi find out that she's to be on bed rest...and Ed gets to be a teddy bear!

In this chapter, I really wanted Taylor to feel the weight of what she's doing as she's figuring out who is behind the hit for Lockert bllod. Now's the time to start guessing!

Songs: "I Will Now Bow" by Breaking Benjamin
"Headstrong" by Trapt
"Side of the Bullet" by Nickelback
"Far Away" by Nickelback
"Sorry" by Buck Cherry

It had been two weeks since I've had to force Kenzi into hiding. Within those weeks, which felt like an eternity and a half, I've only found a few leads, and all of the ones I have found have ended up dead ends. Whoever wants Lockert blood was doing a fine good job of cleaning up. Either that or someone in the rank higher than mine was covering it all up. But who would be on the side of someone trying to kill a General no matter who it was?

I looked over to Roy, who looked more occupied with other things than his paperwork. Like I had ever expected that to change. By the look in those deep, onyx eyes, he was thinking about me in far less than the military uniform I was wearing. I couldn't help but to roll my eyes.

"Roy, work," I said with an authoritive voice as I peered over some records that might indicate who was behind the hit at least.

"I am."

"Then stop looking at me like you're eye-raping me," I said without even looking at him. I didn't have to even look at him to know that was what he was doing.

Roy turned in his desk after a small grumble, facing the pile of paperwork in front of him on his desk. He had no room to in the first place to grumble like that. He was getting lucky almost every night by me, which was making me think he was running on some other energy than what he was eating. He started more paperwork that seemed to reproduce like rabbits, not that Roy and I were much different. We screwed like rabbits.

I pondered over more records after finishing the ones that resulted in no possible leads. I had eventually found a name that stuck out: Eric Tatum. He was a known assassin with a record for getting the job done on his own terms. Much like Barry the Chopper; he took pleasure in killing. But unlike Barry the Chopper, Tatum liked to play with his victims. If someone wanted to screw with the minds of their victims, it was a good choice to pick Eric. The man was like a ninja in the military, letting most with reason to suspect that there was someone in the military helping him through weapons and/or funding. Someone who is highly-ranked enough to cut through the red tape and make sure he would somehow slip through the cracks. There was only one question: would would pull such a risky move?

"Hey, Roy, know anything about Eric Tatum?"

Roy lifted his head from his paperwork. "That hitman?"

"Yeah," I said as I nodded to him, finally looking to him.

"He's ruthless, torturous. I've been on a few missions in which he was involved. There is one time when he kidnapped his victim and used it as his own play thing for about a week, always moving at night, and just as frequently as the night came. Another was much like this case involving General Lockert and his daughter, McKenzi. Someone could easily take out the hit with the order to just take care of them, leaving Tatum to his own vices."

I felt ice from my freezing, plummeted heart form in the pit of my flipping stomach as bile started to rise with the mere thought of Tatum kidnapping Kenzi for the hell of it. It's been known that Kenzi is pretty, blessed with the good side of her parents' genes. That thought alone was making my blood run even more icy.

"W-What has he done?" I heard myself ask before I could think to stop myself. My voice already sounded like I was going to be sick. To remind myself, I made sure of where my trash can was just in case.

"What, when he kidnaps?" he asked. I nodded in response, unable to utter that three-letter word confirming what he asked. "Depends on the victim, and what he thinks of her. Usually, if he kidnaps, it's a female." Again, the bile rose in my throat, where my heart had already jumped and plummetted swiftly. "Normally, if he finds her attractive," much like he would find Kenzi, I thought quickly as he finished his sentence, "then he'd toy with her. Possibly rape her. Anything his mind could think of really." I think Roy was beginning to catch on because he asked, "Why?"

"Subject of interest."

Yeah, that's exactly what he is. Keep him under military terms so it just hurts less.

"You think he might be the one after General Lockert and McKenzi?"

I nodded, afraid to say it in fear that I would throw up everything that was in my stomach and then some.

"It's a huge possibility, but proving that it's him is going to take work. You have to not only prove to some of the higher-ups but Grumman as well," Roy said as he stood up and walked to me. He leaned close to my ear. "Don't let this stress you out too much," he said as he started to rub both my shoulders with his hands, digging deep into my tense muscles. Damn, he had magical hands that started to ease the stress away from my body slowly."Besides, for this kind of case, you're working rather quickly."

"I want my cousin back," I said as evenly as I could, and just as defiantly as I could.

I felt Roy smile. "I know you do. I see it in your eyes every day. You look at her picture like you miss her a lot, and it gives you more determination. Don't worry, you heard from her just a day or so ago. She's safe in the confines of Briggs, working in the kitchens, then staying in her room. You heard Olivier, she'd be a good soldier if she enlisted."

Kenzi as a soldier is something I couldn't see. She maybe following orders with Olivier, but Uncle Devon more than likely ruined any sort of respect she had for Generals like him. I could see it in her eyes. All the hatred that filled them. If the circumstances were different, Armstrong would really see the McKenzi Lockert I knew and grew up with. Kenzi wouldn't survive basic or the academy.

I shook my head. "General Armstrong doesn't know Kenzi like I do," I muttered, hoping Roy would leave it.

Roy's magical fingers dove deeper into my muscles, letting me relish in it for a moment before he stopped. I whimpered a little as he spoke. "I may not know her, but you're too tense. Don't worry, it sounds like you're on the right track to finding her. Tatum is a good lead to follow."

"I am sure he is. But, what I am having a problem with is if he's good at sharp-shooting. The one who shot me, and then at Kenzi in this office," I said as my shoulder throbbed for a moment, reminding me that I was shot at one point. At least the maintenance had come and replaced the window after a long talk with Grumman about it. I had to have it replaced before Uncle Devon knew about it.

God forbid Uncle Devon found out about the entire case. God knows what he'd do to fuck up the case.

I looked toward Roy, who had gone to his desk. "He's a sharpshooter," he said slowly and lowly like it was some repressed memory or something bad he had just remembered. Well, considering that it's about Eric Tatum, I am not surprised. "He had actually went through basic training for the military before he became a hitman. I was in basic with him. It was like he wanted the skills and the credentials that he was a military sharpshooter."

"Fuck," I uttered, knowing it was a great possibility that Tatum was the one that shot me and tried to shoot Kenzi on that day a couple weeks ago.

I needed to get away from the paperwork and the stress of learning more about Eric Tatum. I had left Roy to do his work, telling him that he wouldn't like it if he didn't get it done by the end of the day. I had hid myself in the military's workout room, finding myself drawn to the punching bags for my hand-to-hand combat training. I normally didn't have anyone to spar with, so the punching bag was my best friend. As of two moments ago, when I stepped into the workout room, it was my stress reliever.

I removed my uniform jacket and tossed it onto a chair before rolling up my sleeves and cracking my neck without using my hands. I had to relieve this stress and just sex wasn't going to do it. I tightened my fists before releasing them a few times, trying to get the blood flowing to my hands before I stared at where I was to punch the bag. All my frustrations came out in a single, hard right hook to the bag. After was a few kicks as the bag swung. It was like all the things that had made me angry or irritated was rearing its ugly face, making me push and punch harder, which made me even more frustrated and pissed off.

"You're a soldier, it doesn't matter what you think you're doing is wrong. When we have orders, we follow them regardless of what we think. Got that, Mira?" a commanding officer said in his deep voice during the Ishval war. His face was mere centimeters from mine, I could feel the spit landing on my face as he yelled at me.

"You better make sure she doesn't get herself kicked out of another school, or I'LL deal with her, Taylor," Uncle Devon's annoyed, threatening voice rang in my head as I punched the bag hard again, letting it swing back and forth for a moment.

More frustration rose in me, causing me to punch harder. My blood boiled as I tried harder to blank my mind of everything that decided to surface. But that didn't happen. Because the last voice I heard in my head was Kenzi's sad voice.

"Taylor, you're sending me away?" Kenzi's voice was just as sad as it was that day I had to send her away.

With tears in my eyes, I punched the punching bag one last time, leaning against it with mostly my head as hot tears of anger, frustration, and sadness washed over me. I held the bag in place as I punched it a couple more time slowly. Tears dripped from my cheeks and onto the mat the punching bag and the floor of the room.

"I'm so sorry, Kenzi," I whispered softly, trying to keep it down. I felt my knees give way, causing me to drop to my knees. I buried my face in my palms, trying to hide the shame of crying in a military facility that wasn't my personal quarters. "I'm so sorry."

At this point, I didn't care if my shoulder was throbbing or reopened. I could have cared less if the building was on fire. I just wanted my cousin back. I didn't care how I got her back, even if it meant shedding blood. I had to find out who is behind the hit so I could make the call to Briggs to tell Kenzi she could come home.