Death Professor

Wednesday 22nd April 2015, 14:37 PM

Unrolling the map onto the table, Carl looked through it for a few moments before looking at them all. "So, this is what I'm thinking; for this plan to work, we're going to need to lure him out. Preferably somewhere quiet and away from prying eyes. The last thing we need is to get spotted and blow any chance we have in getting out."

"To do this, the plan I propose comes in two pieces, requiring us to split up into two groups. Team one will be responsible for leading this scout into the trap. Meanwhile, team two will be the people preventing him from escaping. As you can imagine, this comes with some major risks. I haven't a clue who this scout is and what his capabilities, nor how armed he is."

Standing closer to the table, Carl looked at each one of them individually. "But I know that we're not pushovers. Though this mission will be difficult, we didn't go through the last two months to let it end here. So before I explain the plan to an extent, if anyone has any questions, it's best to lay them out now."

Glancing at the others, Mike cleared his throat before talking. "If this plan doesn't work out, what is our alternative?"

"I cannot think of one. As much as I hate to say this, this seems to be a do or die sort of case. If this scout remains at large, it won't take the other Nightingales long to track us. Even if we do so, it may already be too late."

"That's comforting." Mike mused, tired.

"I won't lie to you. This is the reality of our situation."

"Why are we splitting up?" Samantha inquired next, arms crossed.

"For the plan to work, it's required. It is a technique I've seen work before. When we were investigating the Fuego Verde, Thomas and I lured a crew into a trap using it. The two of us and John Lamarck once used it to trap a serial killer. From the reports I read, both Lamarck and Sokolov used it extensively."

"Then they might be expecting it." Mike pointed out.

"I doubt it. It was never reported through official channels. Even if it was, the technique hasn't been used in twenty years."

But Samantha remained doubtful. "I don't know about this, Carl."

Though he could understand their worry, Carl knew that they didn't have time for it. "If anyone has a better idea, feel free to share it. As it stands, we've got less than eight hours to make this work."

To Carl's surprise, Jack spoke up next. "You're the operator. You and Caine must've worked many cases together. If you say this will work…I think we should go with it."

Sharing a glance to each other, Mike and Samantha seemed to relent. Nodding uncomfortably, Mike spoke up. "Jack's right. I'm sorry, Carl. I'm not trying to question you, but…"

"I understand. I don't like this any better than any of you."

Once more speaking up, Jack seemed ready for his question. "My only inquiry is to what extent we're splitting up and who you think should do what. How will we communicate?"

"I've got an idea for that." Carl explained, "It will need me to be in the first group, and Samantha to be in the second."

"Ah." She nodded, "Euphorics."

Mike blinked. "Youth-what?"

"It's an emergency selection of call words that we formed in Shield." Carl answered, "Something Tom and I came up with when we started to suspect that things weren't all right with the Crucible. For example, Tokyo means high corruption in an upper management. It will take too long to teach the three of you. But using a two-way pair of radios, Samantha and I will be able to communicate without giving anything away."

Understanding, Jack almost smiled. "At least it means anyone listening in won't have any idea what we're talking about."

"Exactly." Looking at them all, Carl waited a moment. "Anyone else?"

"Yeah." Ella finally spoke up, having been silent throughout. "This whole thing relies on stopping this scout from reporting back. How do we intend on doing that?"

"That's where the plan comes in." Carl gave a small smile, "It all starts with—"

"That's not what I meant."

Looking at each other with some concern, the others stared back at Ella. "What do you mean?"

Composing herself, Ella seemed not at all eager to express herself. "If what you have said about these Nightingales are true, they are loyal to a fault. That means bribery is out the window. I also doubt that they would value their own life more than keeping a promise. So threatening is also out. Unless there's a coincidental weakness we can exploit in the short amount of time we have to figure it out, blackmail's also not an option."

"So it seems to me that for any plan to work, it only ends in one way."

The room was silent for a few moments before Carl reluctantly gave his response. "That's a bridge we'll need to cross at some point tonight."

"I feel like we need to cross it now." Ella pushed, though not unkindly. "Seeing as how we're going through the semantics of what is going to end up being first degree murder, if I'm reading the room right."

When Carl couldn't find the answer for that, it was Samantha who spoke up. "I understand that none of this is pleasant. None of it has been pleasant from the start. For the last twenty-five years, my husband had to deal with these situations as a part of his job. It's been the first time I've had more than a third-hand knowledge for a long time."

"But this is what it takes. Our survival is on the line. If the three of you wish to risk that, then speak up."

When none of them answered in kind, she nodded. "Then take it away, Carl."

Wednesday 22nd April 2015, 18:23 PM

Looking around her for a moment, Ella pushed the sunglasses closer to her face. She tried to stop herself from trying to spot the scout. She knew that whoever had been watching them was there, likely waiting on one of the rooftops for one of them to make a move.

Across from her sat Jack, who was wearing a baseball cap which covered most of his head. Holding a newspaper quite closely to his face, he was uncomfortable. Unlike Ella, who had been able to disguise herself much more thoroughly, Jack was restricted because of his eyesight.

Sitting there at that coffee shop was a massive risk for both of them. Once or twice, a police car had rolled on by and Ella had been convinced that they would be recognised. That hadn't been the case.

Until the next step in the plan came to be, they had to stay there. For this plan to work, they needed to be in such a position where the scout would need to keep an eye on them. Hoping that they would lead him to their allies. In a way, that was exactly what they would be doing.

Taking a sip from her coffee, Ella couldn't take her mind off what would end up happening if the plan came to be. Once they found themselves with this scout at their mercy, how could they do what Samantha had said was necessary? Without dwelling on the ethical nature of it?

Shaking her head in dismay, she knew that they were right when they said there wasn't another way. Whatever they did, any version of events where this scout walked free meant he would tell these other Nightingales about them and where they were going. Not only that, but it wasn't like her hands were clean.

But there is a difference between self-defence, she mused to herself, and murder.

What would her dad say if he knew what she was planning on doing? He had always insisted to her what was right and what was wrong. What they were going to do to this man was wrong in every way. But if they didn't do it, they would all be dead within a week.

Ella couldn't understand how on Earth they had managed to get into this situation.

Hearing the bell on her burner phone pop up, Ella took it out. Seeing the text message, sent by the unknown caller she knew to be Carl.

Go.

"It's time." Ella spoke to Jack, trying to keep her voice low to avoid being overheard, "You remember the plan?"

"Yep." Standing up, Jack pulled his coat closer to his body, "They have any idea yet where it is happening?"

"No idea. They'll get it sorted. We have to trust that they will."

Nodding in agreement, Ella stood up before pounding Jack on the shoulder, "Good luck."

Jack smiled, "Same to you. Keep your wits about you."

Wednesday 22nd April 2015, 18:37 PM

As he strolled through the streets, Jack knew that the scout had chosen to follow him. As much as that added extra pressure onto him when he would've rather done without it, at least it meant that Ella was clear. As long as he kept to the plan, everything would go alright.

With this next step of the plan, Jack had to keep the scout following him around. At least until he reached the part of town Carl had pointed to. That wasn't the difficult part, of course. Walking around in a calm, non-suspicious way for a good twenty minutes was simple enough. As long as the scout didn't clock on to what he was doing, it was fine.

The fly in the ointment came from keeping himself from being recognised. All it would take was a Cop or a 'concerned citizen' seeing him and being even slightly suspicious of him. Which would not only land him in a heap of trouble, but would also put an end to his chances and even the others from escaping this town alive.

Jack had travelled all over the country, had encountered more trouble than most people would ever believe. The last thing he needed right now was for some random guy causing his death. Because as much as he hated to admit it, there was no way he was living for another week if he ended up in a jail cell.

It wouldn't even be the Nightingales who would be the ones to end him.

Once he reached the end of the commercial region of town and crossed past some residential buildings which looked run down and of low quality, Jack remembered that it was between here and another ten minutes until he reached the stretches of warehouses and factories where their trap was waiting.

All he needed to do until then was keep himself calm and continue down that road. All the way hoping that the scout was still following him. If something happened between here and there which caused the scout to either become suspicious or choose to go somewhere else, it would derail this whole operation.

Looking around as best as he could, Jack had to stop himself from looking over to the rooftops and seeing if he was still being followed by this shadow of his. The more he thought about it, the more options of things that could go wrong popped up in his head. Perhaps the scout would decide to pick him off, to remove one of the targets right there.

Perhaps the scout would try to ambush him for interrogation. That was partly why Jack made a point to keep to the main roads, as much as he hated risking being recognised. Choosing to go down an alleyway was something he couldn't do.

Looking ahead, he could make out the factories. Breathing as easily as he could, Jack kept walking.

Wednesday 22nd April 2015, 18:49 PM

It had been Carl's job to select the hunting grounds. For the plan to work, they needed somewhere quiet and out of view. The decision to choose somewhere in the industrial district hadn't taken long for a general consensus. By now, most of the workers had gone home and the area was empty for the most part.

Nevertheless, they knew that selecting an area that was abandoned and wouldn't have security watching was vital. With only a few hours to decide, Carl had finally found the spot. Off the main road, adjacent to a mile long side stretch was a large factory which had been left in disrepair. After ensuring that it was clear, Carl's only remaining dilemma was troubling.

How to lure the scout there without being able to tell either Jack or Ella about it, to avoid the scout figuring out their plan?

That had been the genius of the route that they had decided for Jack and Ella to go after Carl had sent that message. Both of them would head off in different directions, but would end up meeting each other by the end of their route. In a way where they would have to end up passing by every choice of building.

Readjusting himself in the perch he had chosen, Carl settled there watching through the binoculars. A part of this plan meant that he needed to figure out who the scout had chosen to follow. Once this was done, the bait would be placed.

At that point, it was up to Samantha and Mike to do what needed to be done.

He still remembered the chill he had felt when he realised that the two of them would need to be in the second group. A part of him had pondered changing things around and having Mike being with Jack and Ella being with Samantha, but in the end, he had decided against it. Though he was sure that Ella could handle herself, Carl had never seen her in full-on combat before. He knew for a fact that Mike would get the job done.

So as he sat in that perch, watching carefully for the moment that either Ella or Jack came into view, he could only hope that the two of them would cooperate long enough.

This is the right move, Carl told himself over and over again. This is what Tom would've done. I know that.

But Ella had been right when she raised the question of how justified it was. Throughout their time together, Carl had seen the detective kill for many reasons. Not all of them could have been considered self-defence. Some had been a silent kill. Some had been assassination. There were others that had been purely revenge killings.

Thomas Caine had at some point stopped killing and tried to find other ways to get the job done, but it had taken the bloodshed of many people for him to get there.

As for Carl himself, he was far from innocent. Working at the Crucible for any length of time would always lead to your hands becoming red. Something about the job made it a requirement. Perhaps it was the ancient ideals and values of honour in combat.

That had been why Carl had chosen to find his faith again, after they left the Crucible. He had lost a part of his soul during those years and he still didn't know if he would ever find it again.

Seeing the figure in the distance, Carl's eyes lit up and he pressed the binoculars to his eyes and looked at them. Not being able to mistake Ella's grim stride nor her khaki combat jacket, Carl knew that she had finally reached the area. Immediately looking to the rooftops, Carl looked around for any sign of a shadow.

Not seeing one, he knew his gut feeling when he had one. The scout must've chosen to follow Jack. Unbeknownst to any of them except for him, the scout's choice had actually been a very good one. Turning his vision to the east, down a stretch of road which was on the route where Jack would be going down, Carl knew that all he had to do was wait.

For what felt like minutes turning into hours, Carl kept his focus on that road. He could still barely see Ella and as the seconds ticked by, the anxiety building in Carl's throat grew unbearable. All sorts of thoughts popped up in Carl's head as to what could bee taking the man so long. Had the scout clocked on to something? Had he fled., or gone to take care of Jack?

But when Carl was convinced that all was lost, he saw the figure of the man on the road. Breathing a sigh of relief, Carl checked to see if he looked alright and was satisfied to see it was the case. Flicking his vision over to the rooftops, he knew that all he needed was a sight of the target and the next phase would begin.

That was when he saw the man who was causing them all sorts of issues. Walking parallel to Jack, on the rooftop furthest away from them. Almost terrified how well this was going for them, Carl knew that all he needed to do was wait. Wait for the moment that the man was in position.

Then it would be time to spring the trap.

As Jack reached the middle of that main street, Ella made her turn and went back down into the alley, where she would circle around to avoid meeting him. Now Jack was crossing by the side road. Holding the radio by his mouth, Carl spoke through it.

"Gregor's made the drop." Carl said, before switching to his phone and sending the message.

We've been made, avoid the north.

He saw both Jack and Ella check their phones and change direction. As they did so, he took the device from his pocket and pressed it. Knowing that it would have been like lighting a flare in the digital world, he looked back at the scout.

No longer watching his target, the scout was now looking over to the buildings to the north. When he started moving towards them, Carl almost smiled. Now it was all up to Sam and Mike.

Wednesday 22nd April 2015, 19:06 PM

Upon seeing the scout steadily sneaking his way into the upper story of the warehouse, Mike knew that the plan had worked. All it required now was for the two of them to finish it.

Glancing up at Samantha, who was over by the opposite wall, the two of them exchanged a nod before advancing. For this to work, they were going to need to get as close as they could and take him out without a struggle.

As they approached, questions weighed on Mike's mind still on how they would deal with the scout. No matter how he approached the problem, the only solution where they would all walk out of this alive was with the man laying dead on the floor.

But it was the moment that Mike finally got a proper sight of the man that his stomach dropped. Ahead of him was not a stringy little man, nor some scared kid. The man towered above both of them easily, built like an oak, dressed in a long grey coat. Scraggy brown hair stretched down to his shoulders and a bushy beard covered his face.

Overall, he did not look like the sort of man Mike would want to mess with.

This is going to be harder than I thought, Mike mused before gesturing to Samantha for them to move. Unholstering his pistol, Mike knew he had to do it himself. To shoot the man before he had a chance. Getting into a fist fight with him was not ideal.

But as the man was approaching the doorway into what Mike could only guess was an office, he stopped. With a turn of the head, Mike knew it was already too late.

Taking aim, he fired. but the scout had already kicked the desk over and took cover behind it. Though not before launching a knife at Samantha. With a second to react, she avoided the knife and threw herself around the corner. Looking at her in exasperation, Mike quickly moved down the hallway.

Throughout the building were sheets of plastic covering the entrances to the different rooms. Looking around with desperation, Mike held his pistol up and tried to find Sam. He breathed slowly, but could feel his heart pounding. Looking at every corner, knowing that he had to find the man before he could escape—

A shadow. A shadow of a man, on the other side of that sheet in front of him. Almost tripping backwards, Mike avoided the thrust of the axe that tore through the sheet of plastic, meant to pierce his chest. As the axe was pulled back, the sheet came off, but the man was gone.

Springing up, Mike tried to find his pistol, but couldn't see it. Feeling his heart drop, he looked around for anything he could use, then he saw the axe on the floor. Grabbing it, he held it with a two-handed grip as his eyes darted around, looking for any sign of movement. When he heard the rapid footsteps coming from behind him, he twisted and tried to swing the axe.

But the man came crashing through the plastic sheet and barrelled into him. Grabbing him by the waist and slamming him into the wall before letting him drop like a sack of potatoes. Stunned, Mike swung his head upwards to look at his would-be killer who looked even more nightmarish up closely.

When the man withdrew the two hunting knives from his coat's pockets, Mike knew he had to move or die. Rolling out of the way and finding the axe, he sprung to his feet and saw that the man had moved again. Finding him trying to flank him, Mike held the axe, waiting for him to advance. Swinging the axe, Mike hoped to find the man's head.

Instead, the man parried his swing and Mike had to dodge the slash before backing off. The two faced each other, almost appraising before the kill. With a quick swipe that the man dodged, Mike hoped to find a moment to disengaged, but the man lunged. Going low, Mike evaded and swung the axe at the leg, but even that attack was dodged.

Another slash by the man came, but Mike dodged it. Before he could even respond, the man attacked again and again. It was all Mike could do to avoid finding his throat slit. Parrying with the axe, Mike pushed against the man, but was pushed back.

Then he saw something he'd never thought he would see this giant do. The man jumped, grabbed the metal bar of construction hanging above them, and swung himself at Mike. Two large feet kicking him in the chest and sending him flying backwards.

Feeling the wind knocked out of him, Mike's entire body was defiant as he tried to force himself back up. Seeing the man advancing on him, relentless. Mike was able to get himself up, but was met with another running tackle. Bashed into yet another wall, he felt his entire world spin around before crashing into a table. The wooden table laid unbroken and Mike bounced off of it before falling onto the concrete floor.

Then he felt the rough hands grasp him by the collar and hoist him up. Before he knew it, he was dragged towards a piece of equipment, some kind of pressing table, and the man hoisted him onto the table. Seeing the piston press a few inches ahead of him, Mike felt dread fill his body as he realised the intention of the man. Knowing he had little time, he started fighting to avoid being dragged closer to the press.

Still holding him, the man took his right hand away and felt for the handle to the press and Mike knew it was now or never. Letting his body relax, he instead punched at the man's side, hitting the kidney. Recoiling, the man loosened his grip and Mike got off the table, punched him in the face, and advanced.

Throwing himself at the man, Mike felt all his strength leave his body as he collided into him, sending him through a pane of glass. Falling backwards, Mike tried to find his breath, hoping that he would be back up before this monster was.

He was wrong.

As Mike got up, he saw the man lunge at him again, striking him across the jaw. Grabbing him, he hoisted Mike up, slammed him into the pillar nearby, and threw him backwards before attempting to curb stomp him. Avoiding it, Mike felt for his pocket knife and stabbed at the man, piercing his left thigh.

Though the man backed off, he only uttered a grunt at being stabbed. Then he grasped Mike by the throat and pushed him backwards, sending him through the fake wooden wall behind him. After feeling his body once more begging for relief, Mike looked back at the wall and saw that he had fallen through the bottom part of it. A fist came crashing through it and Mike knew he had to flee.

But it was already too late. Bursting through the wall, the man spotted Mike as he tried to limp away. There was nowhere to go. Struggling to breath, Mike looked for a weapon, but he had none. Falling to the ground, he crawled away backwards as the man advanced on him. Like a lion stalking its prey.

Catching up with him, the man grabbed Mike by the throat. Held him to the ground, and took the hunting knife from his pocket again and held it to Mike's face. Feeling terror fill his body and knowing this was the end, Mike could only stare up at the man as his own insane eyes glared into his soul.

"Death is not the end." The man seethed before bringing the knife upwards…

…but Mike saw Samantha's shadow appear on the wall and she held the two sharp objects in her hands, bring them down into the man's neck.

Stunned, the man's grip on the knife loosened and it fell from his fingers. Feeling for the object now stabbed in his neck, his face seized up and he collapsed onto the ground. Backing away, Mike tried to allow the breath to rush back into his lunges before trying to figuring out what had happened.

Mike looked down at the man, expecting to see blood from the knives that were now lodged into his neck. But he realised that they weren't knives, rather two needles from which the contents were no longer there. Looking back down to the man, Mike saw that he was not, in fact, bleeding out.

Staring up with wide open eyes with not the ability to move, the man could not even look at them.

"What did you do?" Mike finally asked, dumbfounded with what he was seeing.

Samantha glanced down at her handiwork. "Chemically induced embolism. Resulted in a locked-in state."

"For how long?"

She shrugged. "No idea. Could be weeks. Could be months. Should give us whatever time we need to get out of here."

Mike looked at her, shocked. Once upon a time, he may have even been disgusted.

Seeing the look, Samantha raised an eyebrow. "It was either this, or we kill him. That's the only compromise I could think of. Come on, we need to get back to the others."

Turning around on her heels, she started to walk away and Mike was left there, looking down at the man. "So we just leave him here?"

"Of course not. I'll have Carl call the paramedics, then we'll ditch our burner phones. Otherwise, the guy will die of dehydration."

Wednesday 22nd April 2015, 23:47 PM

The sun had long set when they had finally arrived at the place Crews had told them to meet him. By that time, the others knew how they had dealt with the scout who had been after them. Whilst Ella and Jack had been noticeably quiet afterwards, Carl seemed to have been expecting it.

Either way, it seemed to have worked. There was nary a report anywhere about the incident. Carl had checked the police radio to find that it was blank, too. As horrifying as it sounded, it seemed that they had gotten away from what was just shy of murder.

So when they boarded the cargo train, sneaking into one of Peter's carriages which had been decked out with the bare essentials for survival, he nodded to them in relief that they were almost there. "Well, good luck to the lot of you. Keep your heads down, and we'll make it through."

Shaking his hand, Carl spoke with such gratitude. "Thank you for this, Peter. It won't be forgotten."

"No need."

Soon after he left, the rumble of the train engine told them that it was leaving. Without any real insulation, the train's carriages weren't exactly warm. They bundled up in the clothing that they were wearing and knew it was going to be a few rough nights.

At some point during the night, Mike could hear the rain tapping on the train carriage and was worried it would seep through. Both Ella and Jack were asleep, backs against the wall of the carriage sitting side by side. Whether or not Carl was also sleeping over by the opposite wall was something Mike couldn't answer.

But he knew for a fact that Samantha was awake, looking through the gaps of the carriage at the lashing rain. A certain, scary look in her eyes, one which told the story of her loss of mercy. For Mike, there was only one fear in his gut which kept him from falling into a dream as he looked at her.

That he had made a powerful enemy.

TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3: No worries, mate! When it comes to Fazbear Entertainment, it was the entire problem going forward that they needed to take a backseat in the story due to what happened in the last one. So far, this one has been more of a side story to begin with. The Nightingales are only the secondary plot, so we'll be getting back into Freddy's as a whole going forward. You've gotta feel for Benji; after what he went through, it's understandable that he doesn't want any part in it. As for Peter Crews, bringing him back was a last minute detail, but one I feel was important. As you said, his experiences with the animatronics are far different, and no less valid, than Mike's. For the first time in the series so far, we're actually going to be getting a town named in the next chapter! It'll be time to actually include stuff from the books, so that's going to get interesting. I'm going to be trying to get the books myself so that I can have a proper idea of what will be happening. Carl was maybe not quite at the level as his late partner and friend, but he's currently the most able out of the group. When I was planning the series at the start, I always pictured Grant Gustin playing Mike, but I think that Josh was a really good choice for him in the movie.

Also, wanted to quickly mention: My stats for this story have been glitched since the first chapter, so I have no actual clue how many views I've been getting so far. Bit weird, but is what it is.