Author Note:

I have been working on "False Prophets" for the last few months. Right now, I am in the process of editing and double checking on certain things. Meanwhile, I have this itch that I need to post which I can no longer ignore.

This can hopefully be a stand alone post, from "False Prophets". Emily is an undercover CIA agent sent to Columbia. She is a part of a covert team called the Misfits. Escobar had created his own version of the Misfits, causing chaos and havoc in Columbia. She and her team are sent down there to stop them.

She is also Javier Pena's next-door neighbor and Steve and Connie's neighbor downstairs.

Note:

Words in italic are the character's thoughts.

Spanish translation are the ones in brackets and bold. Also, I used Google translation for the Spanish, so I apologized for any mistakes.

Emily searched through her purse for her keys, taking out the crumpled pieces of paper and the candy wrappers, tossing them both in the trashcan. She finally found her keys that were tucked inside her CIA badge. She zipped up her purse, and put it back on the small table, then grabbed the box filled with gingerbread cookies and a card.

She double checked the wire underneath her green plaid shirt before leaving. She headed upstairs toward Steve and Connie's apartment.

She spotted her partner, Shiro disguised as one of the homeless across the street. "Don't worry, I've already saved you some," she said into her microphone.

She knocked on the apartment door 4 times then patiently waited. Connie opened the door, smiling when she saw her.

"Emily," she exclaimed.

"Hi, I won't stay long, I'm just here to drop these off," she said, holding out the box and a white square envelope on top of it.

"Thank you, come in. I'll make some coffee," she offered. Emily was about to object, both Steve and Javier kept her out of the Nacros' business. She wasn't going to get any good intel, but honestly it was the best offer that she had all day. She did see her as a friend.

"Alright, thank you."

. . . . .

Emily was still laughing when she heard the door opening.

"Honey," Steve called out.

"Hey Sweetie," Emily answered. He peered his head out from the door, seeing her. Emily gave him a smile while Connie burst into laughter.

"Hello," he said, walked through the door with Javier behind him with folders tucked under his arm.

"Emily came here to drop off some Christmas cookies and this lovely card," Connie explained as she walked up to her husband, kissing him hello.

"Well, I hope you two save some for us," he joked. Emily picked up the coffee cups and headed toward the kitchen.

She walked past Javier, giving him a smile, she glanced down at the files seeing "Escobar" and "The Misfits," scribbled on the tabs of the folders.

"Well back home, right now at my place at Lafayette there would be a ton of baking and the smell of it," she said, ending with a sigh. She was starting to get homesick, remembering this.

She cleared her throat, "Anyway, I gave our neighbor Mrs. Flores some and yours," she explained, pointing to Javier, "Are at my place." He smiled.

"I convinced Javier to stay for dinner," Steve announced.

"Perfect, I was just going to ask Emily as well," Connie said. Emily raised her eyebrows up at her, doubting it.

She wasn't blind, Javier Pena was very handsome with his slick moustache and those tight jeans. She knew that it would be perfect time to join them and possibly eavesdrop on their conversation on their cases. But it did not make her feel any better.

She smiled, "Ok, but I cannot stay late. I want to finish the letter to my dad so I can mail it tomorrow."

"Wonderful," Connie exclaimed.

As Emily and Connie were in the kitchen starting dinner, Javier shot a look at Steve as he sat down in the armchair. He was starting to feel like this was a set up.

"We didn't plan this," Steve defensibly said as he held his hands up in front of himself, "I didn't know that she was going to come over and bring cookies. Whiskey?"

Javier nodded his head, obviously he couldn't talk about the case right now. He was planning to head over to the brothel afterward to get rid of this tension at the back of his shoulders.

Steve handed him his drink, "Just relax, take a break," he calmly whispered. He took a sip and leaned back. From his chair, he can see straight into the kitchen watching the women.

Emily Wolfe was his new next-door neighbor, a graphic artist who worked in an advertising agency here in Bogota, Columbia. He wasn't blind or stupid.

When he first saw her taking a break outside of her apartment on the day that she moved in, he was smitten. Emily was beautiful and he was interested in her. Not only she was talented, but she also spoke several languages, had a wonderful laugh, a great singing voice and a beautiful smile. So why was this nice girl from Louisiana working here instead of Paris, London, or some other artsy town.

He helped her from time to time. He wanted to get to know her better. He did take her out to dinner once, but it ended in disaster. One man tried to pick her up which caused her to have a panic attack. It was later when he learned that she survived a brutal attack that killed her best friend a couple of years back.

He believed that Emily needed a friend more than a lover. But he has fantasized about her a few times.

Since then, he has become more protective of her. He even stopped bringing the prostitutes back to his place.

"Ask her out," he heard Steve whispering beside him. He saw Steve now sitting on the couch, leaning forward, giving him a stupid smirk on his face. He looked at his partner.

"After what happened the last time?"

"Or it is because of what happened to Helene. She is not a prostitute; she and her company doesn't deal with Escobar."

"Doesn't deal with Escobar," Emily overheard Steve. 'Only if you knew the truth,' she thought. 'I'm with the CIA. I was sent here undercover to stop Escobar and for some reason, my big boss wants to see you in jail.'

"Emily," Connie interrupted her train of thought.

"What," she said looking at her.

"I think that carrot has been peeled enough."

"Huh," she asked, looking down seeing that poor carrot was nearly peeled down to its core. "Oh, sorry."

"Something or someone on your mind," she teased, indicating Javier who was busy talking to Steve.

Emily turned her back toward the men, leaning against the counter. "I know that you and Steve are trying to set us up. But I'm afraid that he is not interested in me in that way."

"How can you be so sure? Maybe you are getting his signals wrong," Connie asked, turning her back toward the men as well.

"The way I freaked out on our date. I get it, I honestly didn't expect to have a panic attack. But now…" she said, her voice trailing off, looking sad.

"But now what, honey?" Emily drew in a deep breath, gathering the strength of what she had to say.

"The best way I can described it, is that he treats me like I'm made out of glass," she quietly admitted.

Just then her pager went off, causing them both to jump.

"Shit," Emily cursed, looking down at her pager. She recognized the number belonging to her boss. "I'm sorry, but I must take this. May I use your phone?" Connie pointed to the phone that was on the kitchen counter.

She glanced at the men who had stopped talking and now watching her.

She held up her pager, "Sorry, my boss has wonderful timing," she sarcastically said. She picked up the phone. She didn't hear a dial tone right away, just silence then a click and dial tone. She knew that his phone was bugged. She dialed the number, and patiently waited. She picked up a pen and a pad of paper next to it and started doodling on it in the corner.

"Sam Holmes," her boss answered.

"Yow, boss," she responded using her codes saying that she wasn't alone, and the phone was bugged.

"Yow," he questioned, keeping up the rouse.

"You know if I call you snuggle bunny, your wife will have a fit. What's up?"

"Where are you, I've tried to reach you at home."

"I'm at my neighbors." She heard a sigh from him. "You keep telling me to go out more."

"I know, but I need that Gomez's file. I'm hoping you know of where it is."

"Yeah, I took it home to work on it last night. I put it in my bag and brought it to work. And…Oh…" she said, realizing her mistake.

"And never took it out of your bag," her boss finished her sentence.

"Bingo," she said, pinching her nose bridge. "Do you need it right now?"

"Yes."

"On my way, bye," she said, hanging up the phone. There was no Gomez's file. It was their secret code telling her that something was up, and she needed to get there. She was partly relieved that she had to leave. Steve and Javier weren't going to talk about their work while she was there.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go," she apologized as she made her way to the door. "My boss wants that file right away. Javier, how about I bring the cookies to you in the morning when I leave for work tomorrow? Thank you for the coffee," she said to Connie who was already standing beside her. After Emily bid her goodbye, Connie locked the door.

Emily nearly forgot to go back to her apartment for the "file" when she realized what she was wearing, ripped jeans, her green plaid shirt and black converse sneakers. Not quite office attire.

As she entered her apartment, "Shiro, meet me at the usual spot in 5 minutes," she said into her radio.

She quickly changed to black slacks, boots, and a white blouse with a black vest.

Her partner was waiting at the end of the street, a few blocks away from her place. He was carrying a bulky backpack that held his disguise. She pulled over, he climbed in, tossing in his bag in the back seat.

After making sure that she wasn't being followed, she parked her car in an underground parking lot in the business area of Bogota.

A black van was parked in the distance where she flashed her car lights twice. The van flashed their lights twice before an older man dressed in black jumped out from the driver's side. The back door slide open, and 2 women jumped out. Her teammate Maggie was wearing the same outfit as the older man, carrying a long black sleeve shirt.

Emily didn't recognize the other woman, but she was the same height, built, and had the same hair color as her. Fortunately, she wore black slacks and similar boots to Emily's. She almost looked like her.

She already knew that this woman was a rookie CIA agent who was going to pretend to be her, headed to the office while Emily was out.

Shiro and Maggie stood in front of her, with their backs turned toward her, shielding her. Emily removed her blouse and vest, handing it over to Shiro while Maggie threw the black shirt over her shoulder where Emily slipped it on. Shiro handed Emily's top to the woman.

"Please do not forget the file and there is an old baseball cap in the glove department in case you need it. And thank you."

Emily slipped on her top and moved away from her 'wall'. The unknown woman nodded at her then headed toward her car.

Emily headed toward the van, "What's up," she asked her boss.

"Trouble, gear up."

. . . . .

It was after dinner that Connie put the dirty dishes in the sink. When she came back, she smacks Javier on the back of his head as she sat down.

"Coffee, baby," she offered her husband.

"Ow, what the hell Connie," Javier protested, rubbing the back of his head.

"That is for treating Emily like glass," Javier was now completely confused.

"What?"

"You two were good friends, close, and then you found out about the attack and started to treat her like she was made out of glass. Why? Because you are afraid that she is going to have another meltdown?" Javier didn't answer her. Connie calmed down to pour him some coffee.

"There are going to be things that will trigger a panic attack and there is nothing that you can do about it but be there for her. She is a strong woman. She is not going to break." Javier knew that she was right and so was Steve. But he was never going to admit that to his partner.

. . . . .

Dead bodies of Escobar's men were strewn across the ground where Emily and Sam now dressed in full gear with black masks, CIA badges stitched on their left arm over their color bands. Emily was red while Sam was green.

Emily stripped the last wire before attaching it to the detonator, "So what kind of cookies did you make," he asked as he laid a piece of duct tape to the C4 to the wall of the supposed abandoned warehouse.

"Gingerbread, family's recipe."

"Damn, ready?"

She nodded, they stepped over the dead bodies and jogged away from the building toward the van that was parked down the road, out of sight.

"Did you have dinner, yet?"

"What, no, kind of got called away." Both Maggie and Shiro were already waiting by the van.

"Status," Sam ordered.

"All ready, everything bitchin," Maggie replied. Both Sam and Emily did a double take at Maggie.

"Bitchin," Sam repeated, shaking his head. "Kids."

Shiro climbed into the driver's seat, while Emily sat on the front passenger seat. Both Sam and Maggie stood outside with binoculars in their hands.

"Sam, I think it is your turn," Emily said. Shiro started the van, handed Sam the receiver. While Shiro set up the PA system, Emily dialed a familiar number.

It picked up on the second ring, "Horacio Carrillo," he answered.

"Good evening, I'm hoping that I'm not interrupting you. But one of Escobar's drug factories is going to go up in smoke. I thought that maybe you and your friends would like to come over. Oh, please hold." She handed the phone to Shiro who held it up to Sam who talked into the receiver.

"Atención, gente que está en el almacén. Sabemos que estás haciendo cocaína. Acabamos de colocar unas cuantas bombas alrededor del edificio. Te estamos dando la oportunidad de escapar. Te vamos a hacer daño o a arrestarte. Solo queremos destruir el edificio. (Attention, people who are in the warehouse. We know that you are making cocaine. We just placed a few bombs around the building. We are giving you a chance to escape. We are not going to harm or arrest you. We just want to destroy the building.)"

She put the phone to her ear. "You got that?"

"Who are you," Horacio demanded.

"The Misfits, the real ones. Not the ones who are claiming to be us," she answered then relaying the address before hanging up.

She could see more of the guards coming up, discovering the dead bodies. Even though she couldn't hear what they were saying, but from the way they were shouting at each other, raising their guns up, looking around, they were angry.

"Now," Sam ordered. Emily pressed one of the black buttons and one of the cars that were parked on the lot close to the warehouse blew up. The guards turned around and started firing at the burning car.

"Escobar's men at their finest," Maggie joked.

More people burst out of the building, obviously the workers from their masks that they were still wearing. They were all screaming and panicking, causing mass confusion amongst the guards. They stopped firing, for fear of hitting the workers.

Both Sam and Maggie climbed in, knowing that their hiding spot was going to be discovered soon.

One of the guards then spotted them, and shouted excitedly to the others, running up at them, shooting them.

Shiro switched gears and pressed the gas pedal hard as he backed up, turning around hard. Nearly causing Sam and Maggie to fall out of their seats. Emily dropped the button on the floor. She turned her head back to them, checking on them.

"Press the button," Sam ordered as he straightened himself up on the seat.

Just then, the back window exploded with bullets.

"Get down," he said.

Emily ducked down in her seat and started reaching for the button. The button was barely within her reach.

"Shit," she cursed.

Both Maggie and Sam returned fired back.

"Anytime Emily."

"I'm trying, but I can't reach it." Shiro took a hard turn, causing the button to slide further away from her.

"God damnit, Shiro take a hard right, the button should slide back to me."

"Kind of hard when they are chasing us," Maggie said as she fired a few shots back.

"But we are getting out of range," Sam explained. Shiro spun the van around, causing the button to slide toward her.

"Got it." Emily pressed the button, expecting to hear an explosion. But all she heard was gunfire.

"Fuck, we are out of range," she cursed. Shiro pressed the gas pedal and droved forward, straight toward them.

"Oh, bloody hell," Sam complained.

Emily rolled down her window and pulled out her gun. She leaned out of the window and started firing at the old pick-up truck that was chasing them. There were 2 men standing in the bed, firing their guns at them. She hit one of the headlights.

"Switch seats," Maggie ordered. She did that knowing that Maggie was a better shot. She squeezed past her, to the back, laying low.

"God damnit, where is Horatio," Maggie asked as she fired back. Emily held out her gun for Maggie, knowing that she was going to run out of bullets soon.

Meanwhile Sam dug out a long green rectangle case from the back. "I knew that this would come in handy," he exclaimed opening the case. Emily kept pushing the button, waiting, but nothing.

'Shit how far away are we,' she thought to herself. Shiro drove forward, causing the truck now to drive in reverse.

"Shiro, make a turn with me facing them," Sam instructed. Emily saw that Sam was now loading a shoulder-fired missile launcher.

"Oh shit," both she and Maggie exclaimed. Emily held on to her seat and the button tightly as Shiro spun the van around again.

She quickly climbed out of her seat toward the van door, taking her gun with her. She opened the door and stood behind Sam with her gun pointed at them.

The people in the truck saw this and started banging on the roof, shouting orders at the driver who started driving backwards even faster.

That didn't matter to Sam who pressed the trigger and the missile ejected from the launching tube, heading straight toward them.

Emily slammed the door shut, "Get down," Sam yelled.

The missile collided with the speeding truck, causing a big explosion. Parts of the truck and even body parts landed on the van. Emily's ears were ringing from the firing and the explosion.

"Go, go. Emily, press the damn button," Emily heard Sam yelling and making a pushing motion with his finger through the ringing. She found the button on her seat. She sat back down in her seat.

Shiro eventually drove past the burning van, making his way back. The loud noises affected everyone. Broken glass was scattered about on the floor, but everyone was ok. She absently minded pressed the button, believing that they were not close enough yet.

Except a loud boom and a black mushroom cloud emerged up the hill. The van skidded to a stop.

"Wow," she said. She leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes and blowing out a sigh of relief. The ringing was starting to go away. She made a mental note to wear earplugs the next time that Sam used the missile launcher again.

"So how about some tacos," Sam offered. She opened one eye and turned her head toward him.

"Ah, why not," she replied shrugging her shoulders.

. . . . .

Javier was in one of the bedrooms at a brothel. He rolled Angel, the new girl at the brothel over on her back and thrusted harder. She hangs on to him tightly, digging her red manicure nails into his flesh.

But his mind wandered back to Emily, her perfume, her touch, her smile and how she looked at him with her blue eyes kept flashing inside of his mind.

"Emily," he cried out as he climaxes then collapsing on top of her. He rolled off of her, giving her a kiss.

He laid on his back, catching his breath. He rubbed his face with his hand, realizing that he had just called out Emily's name.

"Shit," he cursed. He sat up, swallowing the last of the whiskey in his glass that sat on the nightstand beside the bed.

During that time, Angel climbed out of the bed, picking up her robe that laid on a chair. She returned with the whiskey bottle, offering it to Javier.

He held out his glass as she refilled it. She sat down on the edge of the bed.

"¿Tienes otro? (Do you have another one,)" she asked when he pulled out a cigarette from his pack. He pulled out a second one, sticking it in his mouth, lighting both. He offered it to her.

He inhaled the nicotine in as he swung his legs over. He reached for his jeans, that were on the floor. He dug out his wallet, dropping his jeans back on the floor again. He pulled out a bill and offered it to her.

"Ya me pagaste azúcar, (You already paid me that, Sugar)" she said looking at the money.

"Eso es por decir el nombre de una chica diferente, tómalo. (That is for calling out a different girl's name, take it.)" He laid back down, tucking a pillow behind him.

"Eso está bien. Me han llamado por otros nombres antes. Pero, (That is ok. I have been called by other names before. But,)" then she hesitated.

"Adelante, no me enojaré. (Go ahead, I won't get mad.)"

"Pero esta es la segunda vez que me llamas por este nombre. (But this is the second time, you called me by this name.)"

'Fuck,' he thought.

"Ella es una amiga. (She is a friend.)" She raised her eyebrows up at him giving him a little smile. He started to realize that Steve, Connie, and even Angel was right. He was really starting to like Emily.

. . . . .

The next day after work, Emily stood in front of the bathroom mirror. With the adrenaline rush from last night, she didn't know that she was hurt. She doesn't even remember how she got a cut on her lower arm.

It was probably from the flying glass. Fortunately, the cut wasn't too deep, but she had to wear long sleeves for a while in this Columbia's heat to hide the bandage.

She was applying antibiotic ointment and a fresh bandage. She learned from today that the warehouse did cause a small dent in Escobar's plan, and it caught his attention. She knew that their stunt wasn't going to stop them.

Now for Step 2, which was now interrupted by a knock on the door. She poked her head around the corner, seeing Javier standing outside.

She held up her index finger at him, silently telling him that she would be there in a minute. He nodded his head.

She returned now wearing a light jacket, covering her bandage. She opened the door, allowing him to come in.

"Hi," she said.

He walked in, carrying a bottle of wine. He saw her place was very sparsely decorated with Christmas with a few Christmas cards sitting on top of her kitchen counter. A big watercolor painting of a Christmas tree was taped up on the wall. He knew that this was her work.

"Hey Carino (Sweetheart), I brought you this," he said, holding out the wine for her.

"Thank you, but you don't have to."

"Well…um…I was thinking of this as a payment." She took the bottle from him and looked at him.

"For more cookies, I'm sorry but there are none left. I gave the rest away at work."

He smiled, "No, I liked the card that you made, I was wondering if you had any extras, I would like to send one to my dad back home." She smiled, almost giving out an awe.

"Sure, just give me a second," she said as she set the bottle on the kitchen counter before heading to her bedroom.

"Help yourself to the kitchen," she called out.

Tiffany, her mannequin model that she used for her paintings was now leaning against the wall, wearing a Santa's hat, a red sweater, and a long black skirt. Either way, it still crept him out a bit.

Emily came out, carrying a shoebox filled with cards. He looked at her, "I got bored," she explained sheepishly, shrugging her shoulders. He nodded, taking the box from her, and sitting down on the couch.

"I made some iced tea, would you like some," she offered.

He nodded as he started looking through the cards. He found several different cards for Christmas, thank you, birthdays, and blank ones.

He found one of a man sitting on a boat, fishing with "Happy Birthday" neatly calligraphed on the bottom.

"Found something, you like," she asked, setting the drinks on the coffee table. He showed her the fishing card.

"That is a birthday card, I thought you wanted a Christmas card."

He smiled at her, "I do but I like this one better. Do you mind?"

She shook her head no and started going through the box. "What about this one," she offered, pulling out a simple Christmas card with hanging Christmas ornaments and 'Merry Christmas' neatly written on the bottom.

"I like that."

"Then here, it is yours. That bottle is worth more than one card." She held it out for him. He hesitated to take it.

"Javier, you are not depleting my stash if you are worried. Connie already asked for some to send to her family. Take it."

He smiled, taking the card. She smiled, sitting on the other side of the couch, taking a sip of her drink. He started to speak but ended up clearing his throat.

"Emily…um…" he said, clearing his throat again. He took a sip of his drink. All of the sudden, he felt like he was an awkward teenager. He nearly spills the drink on himself.

Emily stood up, getting a towel from her kitchen. She started wiping up the spilled drink.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

"It's ok. It is just tea." He set his glass down.

"Do you want to have dinner with me," he blurted out so fast. She jerked her head up, forgetting the mess.

"Huh," she said dumbfounded.

"Would you like to go out to dinner with me," he slowly asked. Even though she was surprised, she did suspect that Connie had something to do with it.

"Aren't you afraid that I might freak out again?" He shook his head no, taking her hand into his.

"If it happens, we will deal with it together," he assured her, giving her hand, a squeeze.

"Alright," she said.

The End