Note: Happy one year Crescendo anniversary! Thank you for all of the support we received in 2015, and here's hoping that 2016 will be just as wonderful. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated, and enjoy the first new chapter of the year!

Mako drove through the slums of Republic City as quickly as possible. He knew that a police presence was not exactly welcome, and he preferred not to add more danger to his current mission than was already readily available. Chen sat in the passenger seat, staring out at the downtrodden citizens roaming the streets. He was not entirely sure why Lin would bother sending him out into such a dangerous area of the city, but he did not feel worried. Both he and Mako had enough knowledge of the area to stay out of trouble. Then again, with Jackdaw waiting for them, he couldn't be too cautious.

"So why does Lin have such a bad history with this guy?" the pupil asked, scratching his jaw.

"She doesn't like to talk about it," said Mako. "Maybe you should ask yourself."

"Do you know?"

"Yes. I'm not telling it to you, though."

"Why not, sir?" Chen pouted. "I have a right to know if I'm going to go talk to him."

"You're worrying too much," Mako said calmly. "If Lin thought this job was dangerous, she wouldn't have sent you, right?"

Chen thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. "I guess you have a point there."

Mako grimaced. The truth was that Lin hadn't sent them on an assignment at all. It was his idea to hijack a squad car and carry on a personal mission. Chen was his backup, and his informant, given how he was the only one Mako knew would not blab to the others of their destination. Lin was gone for the day, with a mission of her own, one that required her full attention.

Chen had done it. It took many hours of hard work, but he finally tracked down the location of Valos Basteln, the man they called "The Tinkerer"; the very one who nearly killed the police chief with a nail bomb many days ago. Chen discovered that Basteln rented a small apartment in the upper west side, close to the outreaches. Upon hearing the address, Lin promptly wrote up a warrant of questionable quality, hobbled out of the station, jumped into a car, and sped away. Mako took Chen almost as quickly, fabricated some assignment about needing to pick up files (or something), and left in a car of their own.

Even as Mako pulled into the driveway of the small, wooden house, he felt uneasy. The structure had been completely rebuilt in the ten years since it was originally burned, and it stood proudly and white amongst the dark gray contrast of the rest of the slums. The air above it seemed cleaner as well, as if the dust and crude matter was scrubbed away with a thick brush. Chen noticed it too, for, once he stepped outside the vehicle, he took in a deep breath and looked around curiously.

"I've never seen this kind of wood before," said Chen, closely examining the foundation.

"That's because it only grows in remote parts of the Fire Nation," Mako explained. "It must have been pretty expense to import this much of it."

"How could he even get a hold of this stuff? Wasn't he under house arrest?"

"Well, the government was required to give him a house to arrest him in. But, they usually would have just made something cheap or rented a space for him. No one in their right mind would ever put this kind of effort into something for a criminal."

"Maybe they felt like being nice?" Chen suggested with a confused shrug.

"Yeah, maybe," Mako said blankly as he walked to the door. He knocked thrice, and called sternly, "Open up! Police! We want to have a word with you."

There was a loud crash from within the house, and a few moments later, the door slowly creaked open. Jackdaw poked his head out, a scowl on his face.

"You didn't say you were coming today," he sneered. "What do you want, pretty boy?"

"The Chief sent us," Mako said as forcefully as he could manage. "She wants to check on what information you've gathered."

Jackdaw looked Mako up and down, and then cast his glance towards Chen, who was waiting awkwardly by the vehicle. His tongue slithered out of his mouth, and washed over his pale lips. He smiled warmly.

"Well, if that's what Beifong wants…" He opened the door, revealing nothing but dark hallways behind him. Mako took a nervous step inside, trying to hide the tingling sensation running up his spine. The inside air was warm and heavy, and pressed down on the detective unnaturally. The floor creaked unceremoniously as he was led into a small living room, filled with clusters of empty bottles and discarded papers. A rugged sofa sat squarely in the corner, and after pressing his hand firmly against it to test its strength, Mako took an uncomfortable seat.

"Take a load off," Jackdaw said, almost as a taunt. The massive creature was only half-dressed, wearing dusty brown slacks and a tank top that clung to his moist, muscular form. Mako noticed a large tattoo poking out from beneath the shirt and dancing across his neck, although in the darkness he could not make out the specifics of its form. Chen casually took a seat next to him, causing the sofa to wobble momentarily before coming to a slanted rest. "Drink?"

"None. Thank you." Mako scanned the apartment, and noticed that the papers were made up in their entirety of old newsprint, with headlines ranging from the spirit vines overtaking the streets to celebrity engagement tales. "You seem like a big reader."

"Well, when you get locked up in your house and the only access to the outside world is the daily paper, you learn to adapt," Jackdaw chuckled from the other room. "You sure you don't want something to drink?"

"We'll pass," Mako repeated. Jackdaw reentered, this time with papers underneath his arms and a cigarette rolled firmly between his teeth. He tossed the papers into Chen's lap, startling the young man, and then brushed his fingers against the cigarette's edge, igniting the paper and sending a soft glow flickering onto his hard features.

"Those are the notes of everything I've found," said the criminal with the burning cigarette still in his mouth. "Every crook in this neighborhood that has the potential to be walking around as the new Jackdaw, or Hanzi Killer, or whoever it is you guys are searching for. I've come up with about thirty people who have the skills, personality, and resources needed to take my spot. Feel free to check back for more."

"This… this is a lot of information," Mako said, feeling the heftiness of the paper stack while Chen quietly recovered on the side. "How did you manage to gather all of this under house arrest?"

"Limited house arrest. The Chief gave me temporary parole until the Killer is caught. Besides, I have my sources."

"Would those sources happen to be the same people who bought you those cigarettes?"

Jackdaw smirked. "Nah. These were paid for by the same people who paid for this house."

"Fascinating," Mako said with irritation. Nothing. Not a single hint of any deception. He tried a different approach. "So, how did you manage to convince city officials to refurbish your house?"

"Charm," hissed Jackdaw. "I like to live under very specific conditions. They were more than happy to accommodate."

"It's an interesting place to live, I guess. Why don't you give us a tour?"

"I don't see why you'd be interested. There's not much to see."

"Uh, Mako, maybe we should leave now," Chen prodded his commanding officer, but was ignored.

"But I am interested," Mako pressed. "I haven't seen too many houses like this before. Just a quick look around wouldn't hurt anybody… neither would turning on some lights."

"Sorry, but I'm afraid you don't have permission to do that, officer," Jackdaw said, contempt buried in his voice.

"Technically, I do," stated Mako insistently. "The terms of your arrest claims that I can authorize a search of your property at any time, without future notice or warning."

"No, no, you mistake my words," Jackdaw said. He kneeled down to meet the detective at eye-level. "I do not give you permission to wander through my house. You wanted information, I gave it to you. There's no reason to waste my time rummaging through my house for something that does not exist. After all, I don't think Lin would ever condone such an action. She would be very disappointed to find out that my privacy was being disrupted during one of her operations."

At that moment, Mako realized that Jackdaw knew. He knew Lin was unaware of what he was doing. His invitation inside wasn't a commendation. It was a warning.

Jackdaw smiled wickedly, as the cigarette burned itself out and the darkness returned. "You don't want to prowl around the dark corners of my mind, pretty boy. There's things buried there that change a man's very spirit. Now, with all common courtesy… get out of my house."

Mako was stunned into silence. Jackdaw hovered mere inches away from his face, his smoky breath piercing into his nostrils. All at once, Chen yanked on Mako's arm, and began to drag the frozen cop back outside.

"Sorry for disturbing you, Mr. Kuzarov," he said with a nervous laugh. "Thank you for the files. See you soon!"

Jackdaw slammed the door behind them once they were back on the streets. Mako stared blankly at the white house, and a scream passed through his mind, its body unknown and irrelevant to him. Chen tugged at his arm.

"Hey Mako," said the student. "Did Lin really order us into that creep's house? Mako? Mako!"

"Huh?" Mako snapped out of his stupor. "Yeah, whatever. It's not important. Let's just… get back to the station."

"Um, okay," Chen agreed uncomfortably. "You want me to drive?"

"Can you?"

"Yes."

"Then do it." The two entered their vehicle, and started up the engine. As they drove out of the slums, they could see gang members lining up on the sidewalk, shouting at them.

"Stupid cops! Stay out of our neighborhood!" one yelled passionately.

"If I see your faces again, I'm gonna cut 'em off!" shouted another.

Normally, Mako would ignore their shouts of hate, but for some reason, their words bounced around his head in an endless cycle. They consumed his thoughts, and his reality seemed to faze in and out before his eyes. Something was wrong. He felt wrong. It was as if every fiber, every muscle, and every cell in his body were pulsing and twitching all at different frequencies, and he found himself short of breath and gasping for oxygen.

It was that house, but it wasn't. It couldn't have been. Nothing strange had happened. He sat down, took papers and left, so why did he feel the pulsating sensation in his brain, and the snap of his bones and the constant thumping of his heart in his ear? There was something unusual going on with that man and his home. Even if Lin had faith in the murderer, he did not. He believed that he saw something in that house, something that should not have had a clear name or face, yet clearly did. Within the house, and within its inhabitant, Mako saw evil.

Lin knocked lightly on the door to the small rental space. When it creaked open slightly, and a balding head came into view, she stepped backwards, and kicked the door down with tremendous force. The object was blasted off of its hinges, and the large man was blown to the floor. Lin stood in the doorway, her arm still wrapped in a sling, her shadow eclipsing the egg-shaped bomber that led quivering on the floor.

"Valos Basteln," she growled, "you are under arrest."

"Lin!" Valos panicked, hurriedly scrambling to his stubby legs. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"You got sloppy covering your tracks." Lin took a step forward. The apartment was cold and metallic as the man himself, with machine parts clustered together on tables and counters. She kept her eyes focused on the cowering Tinkerer however, and moved one step further. "I want to have a nice, long chat with you."

"Lin, really, you've got the wrong guy!" The Tinkerer reached behind and grabbed a screwdriver. He swung desperately, but his wrist was caught.

"Do you really think you can lie to me, Basteln?" She snatched him by the throat, and hoisted him off the ground. She may have been pushing sixty and heavily bruised, but she had strength to spare, and her rage was serving as one hell of an adrenaline boost. "Do you really think you can try to kill me and get away with it?"

"I didn't… try to…" Basteln gagged, his feet kicking the air.

"Bullshit!" Lin threw him against his workbench, sending metallic equipment flying everywhere. He sagged limply off the table. "The Hanzi Killer hired you to make a bomb. I saw it; I felt it."

"Please Lin, you're acting crazy," he wheezed. "You can't do this. You don't have the right. There's no evidence—agh!"

Lin delivered a swift boot to Basteln's ribs, and he rolled around in agony.

"That bomb had your signature. You probably hoped I'd be too dead to recognize it." The Chief slammed her foot into Basteln's gut, and he emitted a pained gasp. "Now… who's the Hanzi Killer?"

"You've got the wrong man," Basteln cried, his voice weak and shaky. Lin pressed her foot against his throat, and pushed hard.

"Wrong answer." She leaned in close. "I'll give you one more chance to tell the truth, and if you still don't cooperate, I'm going to snap your neck like a twig."

"You… you can't kill me," pleaded the Tinkerer. "You're a good cop. You have to arrest me. Please, arrest me."

"I'm not feeling very much like a good cop today," Lin sneered. "It probably has something to do with the shards of glass you lodged in my stomach. Answer the damn question: Who is the Hanzi Killer?"

Valos said nothing. His eyes darted back and forth, arms frozen in place by his side. Lin began to push further with her boot, and all at once, he let out a pain-ridden, tearful yell.

"I don't know!" he shouted, terrified. "I never saw his face!"

Lin immediately released her hold on the sobbing bomber. "Details. Spit it out."

"We… we only talked on the phone," Valos explained tearfully. "He contacted me… said he knew my record, what I had done… he said he would leak the records if I didn't do what he asked."

"You spoke to him?" Lin asked intently. "What did he sound like?"

"I don't… it's hard to say. He called three times, and every time it was a different voice. One time it was gruff, and then it sounded nice… the third time, he actually sounded like a kid. It doesn't make sense."

Unfortunately, it made sense for Lin. "Did the sources on the phone sound like they were forced?"

"Yes, why?"

"He's using his hostages as mouthpieces." Lin mentally cursed. Every time she seemed to be getting close, the truth was yanked further and further away from her. "There has to be something you know that leads to him. How did the Killer meet you? How did he know about your past?"

"I have no idea. He just called one day, and before I knew it was giving him weapons. I swear that I never meant to hurt anyone…"

"Stop your groveling," Lin snapped. "You're a pathetic, hopeless waste of a human being."

"I… I know," Valos sobbed. "I know."

Lin sighed, and then angrily threw a random piece of scrap to the floor. More endless chases. More dead ends. It seemed like she had been going in circles for ages. And there was nothing at all to help.

"Please," Basteln choked, "can you take me to prison now? I'm not safe here anymore. If he knows that I've been talking to you, then I'm as good as dead."

And then, Lin had a twistedly brilliant idea.

"No. You're staying right here."

"What?" Valos yelled in surprise. "B-but, need to go. He said that if I talked, he would do horrible things to me. I need to be locked up where that lunatic can't get to me."

"Oh no," Lin stated. "You are going to stay right here in this apartment."

"But that means that—"

At once, Valos understood, and his eyes went wide with fear.

"You're going to use me as bait? Are you insane?" Lin smirked, and hoisted the Tinkerer up by his collar.

"Maybe," she admitted. "But if the Hanzi Killer wants your blood spilled, who am I to try to stop him? After all, you did try to kill me. Makes sense that I'd return the favor."

Basteln stammered. "It w-will never work! He'll know something is fishy if you don't bring me to jail. He would never draw attention like that when it's such an obvious trap."

"True," Lin shrugged, throwing Basteln back to the floor. "Then again, I don't really have any better ideas on what to do with you at the moment, and I'm feeling a little desperate enough to try this."

Lin turned towards the exit. "I'll send a squad over and have them position themselves around the perimeter. If anyone so much as looks at this building funny, they'll be on the bad side of a dozen highly trained officers."

"Oh man, oh man," Valos muttered nervously, surrounded by piles of metallic waste. Lin opened the door and stepped outside. "Stupid Valos. Never should have planted those bombs for him. Now look what's happening."

Lin froze in her tracks. Her eye twitched, and she stormed back towards the Tinkerer, a fury blazing within her.

"Bombs?" she growled, snatching Basteln's throat once more. "You planted more of those things around the city?"

"You… you didn't already find them?" he panicked.

"How many more are there?"

"Just… just one," Valos said hurriedly. "I only installed it yesterday. I had to wait until the area was unoccupied to get in."

Lin spoke fiercely. "Where the hell is it?"

"Are you certain you can hold all of that?" Opal asked with an intrigued grin. Bolin strained under the weight of the groceries, which were stacked up to his neck and spilling their contents over the brim of the containers used to hold them.

"Of course," Bolin said gleefully. "It's just food. Also, how many steps left are there?"

"Twelve," Opal giggled. She had previously offered to help her husband carry the enormous amount of sustenance, but he had bravely declined, as it was the job of a gentleman to not put off excess work on the lady. She did not bother to argue; those packages looked very heavy. Even with Bolin's immense strength, it appeared like a great struggle as he heaved the food up the stairs and along the long corridor to reach their apartment. She gave credit to him though. He never complained about the struggle even as he hoisted the containers onto their kitchen counter, and breathed a heavy sigh.

"Okay, so this food supply should last for the rest of the month," he said observantly.

"I somehow doubt that," sad Opal. "I'd give us two weeks."

"Come on, I don't eat that much." Bolin pouted. Opal cooed, and lovingly took his hands in hers.

"Baby, you do," she said politely. "That's a lot of muscle mass you have to keep up. Besides, I'm already starting to get cravings."

"Yeah, that's a pretty good point." A sharp pain jolted through his arm, and Bolin yelped.

"Something wrong?"

"Cramp," Bolin groaned. "I probably should have stretched before lifting weights."

"I told you not to carry that all by yourself," Opal stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"It's not like you can do any heavy lifting," Bolin countered. Opal rolled her eyes.

"Take a warm bath," she instructed leniently. "I'll unpack everything."

"But—"

"No buts. You've been enough of a gentleman already."

Bolin threw up his hands in defeat, and gave his spouse a peck on the cheek before heading to the bathroom. Opal began reaching through the packages, and looked around the place she called home. The colors were warm, the air was rich, the furniture soft and comfortable. It seemed like the perfect place to raise a family. There was a good school nearby, and there was a plethora of activities and opportunities just outside her doorstep. She had made it out good, after everything she had been through. She considered herself very fortunate indeed.

Opal was halfway washing produce when the phone began to ring. She quickly wiped her hands dry on her pants, and picked up. The sound of a feminine, hysterical cry blasted from the other end.

"Please, pick up the damn phone already!"

"Uh, hello?" Opal asked curiously.

"Opal? Thank spirits I finally got through. I've been trying to reach you for hours."

"Asami? Is that you? What's going on?"

"There's no time to explain," Asami said, her words slurred and fluid. "Is Bolin with you? Are you two okay?"

"Everything is fine, Asami," Opal said, fear building in her gut. "Are you feeling okay? You sound really upset."

Asami moaned. "Forget about me. Look, you have to take Bolin and get somewhere safe. Lock yourselves in your apartment, and let no one inside. Don't trust anyone. Do you get that?"

"Slow down," Opal begged. "I can barely understand you. You're freaking me out."

There was a knock at the front door.

"Wait, hold on for a second. Someone's at the door."

Opal took a step forward, and then a bloody scream ripped across the phone line and drilled into her head. "Do not open that door! Whatever you do, do not open that door!"

The airbender stood frozen in place, overwhelmed by horror. The knock repeated itself, louder and more ferocious. Opal lowered the phone, and slowly, cautiously, approached the door to her apartment. She moved lightly on the ground, keeping her footsteps silent; being an airbender had its perks. The knock struck once more. Opal pressed one nervous hand to the door, and looked through the peephole.

Once she saw the figure's face, an instant sensation of relief washed over her.

"Asami, don't worry," she said calmly. "I'm pretty sure that this person doesn't have any intention of hurting us."

Asami protested loudly, fiercely, but Opal removed the phone from her ear, and unlocked her door. She opened it widely, welcoming the warm face of her visitor.

And then, there was a loud bang, the apartment was shaken by a violent blast, and Opal slammed into the adjacent wall, the force of the blast knocking her off her feet. Her head cracked against the bright red wood, and she fell limp against the carpeted floor. Before the pain even had time to register, a knife plunged into her stomach, and she was out cold.

The intruder checked the other rooms, and—satisfied with the work—left the apartment, leaving behind a bleeding airbender in the entranceway, a charred earthbender in the bathroom, and a helpless inventor screaming over the phone.