A/N: Thanks for the reviews again. Now this chapter will get pretty intense.

Chapter 28: There Are Always Bigger Fish

The one word that comes to Enjolras' mind when he sees Magnussen is poison; it is there in the newcomer's eyes. 'Nevertheless he has walked right into our sights,' he notes silently as he watches this newcomer slide into the office's one remaining vacant seat. "What brings you here?" he asks.

"A matter of my occupation," Magnussen says, looking Enjolras over. "I had thought you would be intelligent enough to heed prudent advice."

Bidault looks beseechingly at Magnussen. "They refused my offer!"

Magnussen holds up a hand for quiet, even as he shoots a warning glance in Bidault's direction. "It would be best to leave any question of Mr. Bidault's business practices to the proper authorities." He sneers at Enjolras as he puts a hand on the folders piled up on the desk. "The Ministry will conduct its own inquiry, and implement the appropriate sanctions."

It is all that Enjolras can do to keep a smirk from spreading across his face at this declaration. 'Magnussen may as well have shown this entire room the whiteboard at the office,' he thinks; every lead he's gotten from his network of friends only points to the Minister's part as a protector and arbiter. "If the question were one of administrative charges only, then you would be perfectly within your jurisdiction," Enjolras says calmly as he slides the papers away from Magnussen's reach. "The charges being brought up against Mr. Bidault are criminal, and therefore must also be heard and decided on in a criminal trial."

"Yes, in a court that knows nothing of economic matters."

"Which I am sure you are privy to-among other matters particular to persons in Bidault's situation."

"There is no certainty that the courts will grant you your desired outcome," Magnussen says, lacing his fingers together. "Oh I know of your reversals, Attorney, and those of your family. Your father's business. Your wife's records-thankfully she is bold about her indiscretions. You yourself had quite the learning curve during your first Port Town adventure." He smiles cruelly at Enjolras. "There are no saints in this room, no matter how handsomely they are styled."

'Those cases are on public record too,' Enjolras reminds himself even as he sees before his eyes again the darkened streets of that coastal city, the sneers of his first employers, and the disheartened looks of his clients from days gone by. The murmurs of the crowd draw ever nearer to his ears even as he looks from his friends' worried faces to the triumphant visage of his adversary. "You are right that there are no saints; here there are only helpful men," he says at length. "Your hand is in the public records and business annals. This has not been your first intervention."

A startled flicker plays across Magnussen's face. "I have done nothing save that which would be for the common good," he says slowly. "You persist with your game, you will bring about economic ruin. Thousands, maybe millions will be forced out of gainful employment when businesses close. Our industries will be leaderless. Then what will your justice say to that?"

"Justice would not consider exploitative labor, even if voluntary, proper employment. No business condoning such practices could be considered an industry." Enjolras sees Magnussen's face twist further with pure venom even as the murmurs in the crowd grow louder. "This then goes beyond the limits of the administrative sanctions your Ministry and its bodies are bound to implement, and into the reach of other civil and legal authorities."

Magnussen hisses as he gets to his feet. "You have as good as delivered yourself into my power." He jams his hat on his head. "A pleasant day to you."

Enjolras grits his teeth as he watches his adversary leave amid a newfound hubbub of exclamations and queries from the crowd. "He will be back," he tells the fiscal.

The fiscal blanches. "I would rather he not-"he begins before a sharp report and the crash of shattering glass pierce the air. "What the devil was that?"

Enjolras sprints to the door and throws it open, only to have the edge of the door scraping against shards from a broken window pane. Magnussen lies a few feet away, face down in a growing pool of crimson. "Wait, don't just run-"he warns even as Andrew Ffoulkes dashes towards the wounded man.

Andrew drops to his knees and presses two fingers to Magnussen's neck. "He's alive, just barely."

Enjolras reaches for his phone but he already sees that Bossuet is calling up the emergency services even as Bahorel and some try to keep the crowd from stampeding out of the office. He catches a flicker at the corner of his eye and turns to see a figure levelling something on a neighboring rooftop. "Ffoulkes, get out of there!"

Andrew manages to hit the floor just before a bullet buries itself in the woodwork above his head, sending splinters all over the place. Enjolras and Percy immediately rush to drag him and an unconscious Magnussen behind a pillar at the far end of the hallway. "Get everyone clear and stay out of sight," Percy growls. "Those are my orders."

In the meantime Enjolras sees the sniper already vacating his post on the rooftop. "Everyone down the stairs, now," he calls to the people remaining in the office before he gets up to pull the latch to the fire exit. He can hear Percy's loud footsteps fast behind his as they dash down to the ground floor and towards a side entrance. "Did you see any accomplices?" he asks Percy.

The bigger man shakes his head. "That is the troublesome part."

Enjolras grits his teeth as he prepares to open the side entrance, but it is at that precise moment he hears indignant shouts from the main street. He quickly spots a man dressed in a dark t-shirt and black jeans shoving his way through the crowd that is between him and an intersection several blocks away. Enjolras loses no time in opening the side door and racing out into the alley, putting him just in front of the fugitive. At the sight of him and Percy the gunman turns tail and bolts up another side street, turning over a large dumpster and a stall of fruit for good measure.

Percy taps Enjolras' shoulder. "That street loops around this way," he shouts, gesticulating to the right. "There's a creek there-"

"I know this neighbourhood too, Blakeney," Enjolras answers as he swiftly picks up a jagged piece of wood in the alley and continues to give chase. It is all he can do to keep the fleeing man in sight among these labyrinthine streets and passages so characteristic of this part of the city. By now they can hear the distant wail of police sirens and ambulances, but there is no sight of their gunman in any of the adjacent alleys. 'Except for these footprints,' Enjolras notes as they come across some indentations in the mud. "I didn't see him wear boots," he mutters.

"He was moving fast-" Percy begins just before a cry comes from an alley two paces away. "Looks like he's done for!"

Enjolras sprints over just in time to see their gunman collapse in the dirt outside a boarded up shop. He motions for Percy to stay a few paces away from the body before bringing out his phone. "Bahorel, we've got our gunman down. We're in an alley by the creek," he informs his friend.

"I've got you and Blakeney on GPS. The cops should be there in a few minutes," Bahorel says, relief coloring his tone. "Should I send Karen and her SOCO team to you guys?"

"That would be a good idea," Enjolras concurs. He frowns as he gets a glance at the face of their almost-assailant; the visage is decidedly non-descript, without scars or facial hair to provide any ready identification. 'What he and Magnussen would have said, now we'll never know,' he notes grimly even as he hears the police operatives approaching this scene.

Percy salutes to Karen as she walks into the alley. "It's an unfortunate mess, Miss."

"You're telling me. High power bullet straight in; he didn't stand a chance. You're lucky that whoever did this just was after him, not you two," Karen says, shaking her head as she surveys the body. She looks keenly at Enjolras. "Did you see who did this?"

"Not a sight or sound, Officer Hooper," Enjolras replies. "Otherwise we wouldn't be standing here."

"That's true," Karen mutters. "You two had better clear out. I'll catch up with you boys and Remy later."

Enjolras and Percy are silent as they leave the alley and venture to where Bossuet and Bahorel are sitting on a stoop, watching as some correctional officers usher Bidault into a prison wagon. "Magnussen is being rushed to the hospital for surgery. There's nothing more we can get out of that shark," Bahorel reports.

"Aside from archives, but any fool could tell us that," Bossuet adds gloomily. "Guess we've got to go after this one now too?"

"Certainly," Enjolras replies. 'The hand behind this may very well be a close ally,' he notes as he looks around the area, taking stock of the building where the sniper had positioned himself as well as the location of the fiscal's office. "Someone who knows this place as well as we do."

"With previous dealings," Percy adds. "Deuce if he isn't some legal personality too."

"A valet. Some disgruntled former employee," Bossuet suggests.

"Perhaps, but the timing?" Enjolras points out. He looks up as a news helicopter makes its flyby overhead. "Well it would appear the message has already gotten out."

"It's viral already, Chief," Bossuet says, holding up his phone to show the news feed already scrolling there. "Not just Breaking News but the comments section too."

Enjolras checks his own phone and scowls at the wild and even absurd commentary there. "To what hospital did they take Magnussen to?"

"The Royal Hospital. Apparently it's closer, and there's a better neurosurgery team on duty," Bahorel replies. "Besides, I don't think poor Pontmercy would want to see that man even in recovery."

Enjolras can only shake his head despite the weak laughter this joke elicits. "We'll have to meet later, back at the law office." He looks down just in time to see his phone beep with an incoming voicemail. "There is some serious narrowing down we have to do."