(A/N: I am so sorry it has taken me this long, thanks for all the support. Sadly, I was stalked by WB for a long time... you guessed it, Writer's Block; that evil creature. What I loved about writing Harvard's Hit List; the first story written for this trilogy, but second chronologically, was that a lot of ideas came from inspirations from comments; making the story interactive, more awesome and written quicker. So, if you have any ideas for any of my stories; comment away! 1 Comment = 1 punch in Writer's Block's gut!)

Mason's pov

The EMTs got there as fast as they could, but by then, Jamie was already non-responsive; having bled a lot despite the pressure I kept frantically applying to the wound. He was rushed to the nearest hospital, and I could not get this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach to go down. I followed the bus that had Jamie in it; while notifying Comissioner Reagan and the rest of the family to meet us there at the hospital.

I was sitting in the hard plastic chairs with baited breath when Danny came over with his partner, Detective Maria Baez. Still uneasy and worried about Jamie, I all but mumbled

"Hi."

Danny, who was a big brother by proxy to me, hugged me; knowing both of us could benefit from the gesture

"Hey, Mase. Jamie is going to make it, alright? He's stubborn and tough. Meanwhile, Baez and I caught the case; so, is there anything you remember? Anything at all?"

I exhaled, remembering everything. Sadly, they would not have that much to go on. I finally managed to reply

" It was really random, out of nowhere; there was no way we could have seen or sensed it coming. The person never spoke, I will not be able to identify by voice; the perp wore gloves, so; no prints... And the shooter wore a mask. Not a ski or scuba mask, not a medical mask... a baby mask. Shot Jamie with a .9 millimeter and took off. I'm sorry that's all I can give you. The shooter was smart. Scary smart."

Completely unexpectedly, Danny smiled a bit

"Scary smart and calculative, huh? Sounds just like an old friend of ours..."

I almost choked on pure air

"You think the shooter is...?" my voice trailed off, not that Danny needed me to finish the sentence.

The detective shrugged

" Fits our friend's M.O., worth checking out."

I nodded, still dumbstruck. This was not looking good. And just when I thought things could not get any worse; Jamie's doctor came over to us; a somber look framing the lower part of his face.