The prison seemed to be in an uproar when Farid arrived. Officers were rushing back and forth; inmates were yelling at one another and the guards. The psychologist found sanctuary in the therapy room when the door closed. He hoped he would receive some answers soon. Farid did not have long to wait since Dagur was walking past the cells in a fog. His expression was calm, contrasting with his thoughts. As soon as he entered the therapy session, his face matched his mind.

"Ryker's dead," he revealed.

Farid's eyes widened. He glanced at Gobber in shock, seeing a grim nod from the man.

"He got killed yesterday," the blond explained. "It's a madhouse out there, so I have to see if I can help settle things."

Gobber unlocked the cuffs and left the two. Dagur put his hands in his hair.

"I saw the killer, but I didn't know he was going to be one. I didn't even notice the shank." He paused, breaths increasing in speed. "I didn't think Ryker would get killed–especially not by his own brother. If Viggo could do that, he could go after Heather and the others. I don't even think Ryker was working against him. Imagine what he'd do to them since I am. I might have just gotten them killed!"

Dagur paced back and forth, wringing his hands.

"Even when I'm trying to do something good, I put people in danger. Great going, Dagur! You just had to get involved in the operation. You couldn't just convince inmates to not take drugs like any sane person would." He kept breathing faster. "They probably already saw Heather talking to me. If Viggo knew my dad, he might know she's my sister. I-is it getting stuffy in here or is it just me?"

It felt like the room was spinning and the inmate's airway was closing.

"I want you to try holding your breath," Farid said calmly.

"I already can't breathe, Doc."

He saw the serious look on his face and tried the suggestion.

"Count for ten seconds," Farid added. When the time was up, he said, "Now, breathe through your diaphragm instead of your chest."

Dagur did as he was advised, feeling a little better even if he was still nervous. The redhead went over to the seat and sat down, putting his hand on the table as he leaned his head back.

"I'm freaking out," he admitted. "I don't know what to do. I'll be bringing some money to Savage soon, so I'll make it seem like I'm unfazed by what happened, but I still don't know if Viggo is suspicious of me or not. He could have someone heading to Heather's house as we speak."

"I'll warn her just in case and tell the warden so that he can keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

"The others could be in danger too!"

"And I'm sure that he'll also make sure they're fine. You know Gobber will as well. They're family to him."

"He can't be there all the time. He's not even there right now. We don't know if they'll be okay."

"No, we don't," Farid agreed. "It's the unfortunate truth, but it's also true that we never know if those we care about will be okay."

Dagur made a face at him. "Fun, so they might just die in a hit and run accident instead of me being the cause. That doesn't really make me feel better."

"It's not to make you feel better; it's to put things in perspective. We can't see the future. We'll never know every time someone is in danger, but we can take the necessary precautions by entering situations with a level head. That way, we can think through our actions and decisions, helping reduce some of the possible dangers we'd otherwise put people in."

"I guess that makes sense. I did some more of that music therapy you mentioned. It helped me after seeing what happened to Ryker." He paused, sighing. "Do you think I got him killed? I didn't like the guy, but I didn't want to be the cause of his death or anything."

Farid thought over the question. "I actually don't think so."

"That's good, but how come?"

"From what you've told me about Viggo and from what I have seen from the results of his actions, he seems like someone who would do anything for the operation and money. That's why I don't think you got Ryker killed. It was probably only a matter of time before Viggo got rid of him."

"Poor Rykie didn't know his countdown was ticking so quickly," Dagur said, shaking his head.

The psychologist and client kept speaking until Gobber returned. He had not been able to calm down the people much, but it was a little quieter when Dagur returned to his cell. It felt odd being in the cell without Ryker there. His scowl would not necessarily be missed, but its absence would be noticed. That afternoon, Dagur went back to the yard. Some of the operatives approached him hesitantly.

"So, you're the boss now, right?" one asked.

"Right."

"Are we going to die too if we step out of line?"

Dagur looked at the other inmate suspiciously. The man shared an expression of fear with the others in the group. They were not sure about the details of Ryker's death. To them, it just as easily could have been a hit ordered by Viggo or the replacement.

"Just don't do anything that jeopardizes the mission and you should be fine."

"Were you the one who suggested Ryker get killed?"

"Do you really want to know that answer?"

"Kind of."

"If I wanted Ryker dead, I'd have gutted him myself," Dagur explained, crossing his arms. "So, if you're worried about having to look over your shoulder all the time because of me sending someone after you, don't be. I won't. I'll deal with you personally. I can do my own dirty work."

This satisfied the inmates and they got back to work. When they were brought to the cells, Dagur happily noticed that he was returning to the therapy session room.

"Good news, I hope," he thought.

He grinned at Mala when he entered and his restraints were removed. Gobber left the two of them and the captain went over to the inmate.

"Hey, Mala–"

Dagur stopped short as her arms went around him. His face was bright red when she pulled back.

"What was that for?" he asked. "Not that I minded."

Mala had a concerned look on her face. "I heard what happened to Ryker Grimborn. I was worried about you."

"Aw, you were?"

Happily, he hugged her again. This time, Mala blushed, realizing the improperness of what she had initiated. Still, she did not end the hug until he did, then she sat down and gestured for him to do the same.

"I do have some progress to share with you," she said. "We found someone named Lars and interrogated him. He was able to tell us about some of the operatives on the Hunters' side. By this evening, we should have an arrest."

Dagur began smiling. "Hmm, interesting. Might I ask how you came by that information?"

Mala chuckled at him. "I might have gotten it from a certain Grimborn brother."

"Sounds like you also might have benefited from my idea. I'm winning, Malapoo," he sang.

"You are doing no such thing. You are contributing."

"Substantially."

Mala's smile faded. "You are also in danger, Dagur. Ryker was killed. I know that you are aware of that fact, but have you considered how much peril you could be in? Perhaps…" The blonde sighed, not knowing what to suggest. "I also know that you will not stop your plan. I just want you to be safe."

"I can't promise I will be. I knew the risks when I started. I sent away some family and friends to keep them out of it at least."

Getting quiet for a moment, the captain began to frown. "You say that as though what happens now does not matter."

"It's not that it doesn't. I still want to stop the Hunters and Flyers. I still want to hang out with you and go to the doc's clinic, but I also want to be realistic. Like you said, Ryker got killed. Someone made him spill his guts in a way more literal sense than you did. If they find out I'm against them, that could be me next. Obviously, I don't want that, but what matters the most is that it doesn't happen to those I care about."

The captain reached across the table to touch his hand. Dagur looked at her, surprised by the sincerity in her face.

"You matter as well. I do not want to come here and learn of your demise."

Giving her hand a squeeze, the redhead eased some of her worries. "I'll do my best. I can promise you that at least."

Mala smiled and took a deep breath, sitting back further.

"I have heard of someone named Krogan," she revealed. "He is a difficult man to find, but he is supposedly even more ruthless than Viggo and is in charge of the Flyers."

"So, two heads. They're like a mythical beast that needs to be slain."

"There are more than two."

"More? Who else is there? I thought that there were just the two groups?"

"There are, but if the rumors are correct, there is another person overseeing everything."

"I'm guessing you know even less about him?"

"That is unfortunately correct, but word of mouth has brought a name to my attention. He might be called Drago Bludvist."

Dagur laughed. "It's like there's a rule about having the most sinister names possible before you get let into their club."

"I will let you know if the trend continues," Mala said, grinning. "I will also let you know what I find as I continue to pursue Bludvist and the others. If he is real, I know that he will not evade justice with us both working to stop him."

Dagur beamed at that and nodded. "No doubt! He won't know what hit him, but I can bet it'll be a one-two combo from us," he said, punching the air in preparation.

"I look forward to that day."

Mala shared more information from what had been learned through the interrogation and left sooner than she wanted to again. She hoped there would come a day when they could speak longer, but she would continue to enjoy what they could do until then. That night, Dagur went back to the empty cell and began exercising. It got his mind off his nerves and he was able to quietly hum an old tune he was starting to remember. He had to admit to himself that music therapy was working pretty well even without having the traditional form of the treatment. It helped calm him down for the next evening. Savage came up to his cell with a slightly worried look on his face.

"Someone's here to see you again," he informed the redhead.

Nodding, Dagur let the restraints be attached before heading to the visiting area. He had been anxious about this inevitable day, but he would handle it head-on. Once there, he saw a familiar face with a familiarly cold smile. On the desk by the phone was a chess set. Savage unlocked the cuffs and Dagur sat down. The inmate and visitor picked up the phones as the dark-haired man gestured to the game.

"I was hoping you'd be willing to accept my challenge today," Viggo said. "Are you?"

"Sure. I've got time to kill."

"Then, you can begin."

Dagur tilted his head at the pieces. "That pawn by your right hand at the end."

When the visitor moved the piece, the redhead looked at him curiously. Viggo then moved his own pawn.

"How's…stuff going?" the inmate asked.

"Business is going well. Would you also say it is?"

"No complaints here. I haven't heard any either."

The other man nodded his head and kept moving pieces. They took their turns, each collecting pawns or a rook from the other.

"You have not mentioned Ryker," the businessman commented after a little while.

"I didn't think you'd want to talk about him."

"He was my brother."

"Sorry for your loss."

"I didn't say that we were close."

Dagur lifted an eyebrow. "I'm not sorry then?"

Viggo appeared amused. "I didn't come to vex you. I suppose I'm just curious where your stance is with things. What did you think of Ryker?"

"He was a grouch." The inmate paused to point at another piece on the board. "I wasn't part of his murder, though."

"I know that you weren't. Would you have killed him had he not died?"

"Why would I?"

"You replaced him. Surely, you've considered what vindictiveness from him could be."

Dagur scratched his head. "I guess not. If he started to be a problem, I figured I'd deal with him."

"In that case, we deal with obstacles differently. I prefer to remove a problem before it worsens."

Viggo made another move, taking one of Dagur's pieces. This caused the redhead's mouth to curve downwards.

"Have you heard of oleander?" the visitor asked.

"The flowers? Yeah, they come in a lot of colors and shouldn't be eaten if you don't want a permanent nap. Why?"

"I find them fascinating. Their uses are especially intriguing. People will use pink oleander as ornamental plants in India. Despite its toxicity, it pales in comparison to yellow oleander which is even more lethal." He stopped talking for a moment to move another piece as the inmate requested. "It takes so little to make a fatal dose. Only eight to ten seeds are required."

Dagur looked at him in confusion. "Weird that it takes so few. Have you ever seen it in action?"

"I have. I suppose that I have always been intrigued by herbal toxins. They're more subtle than other methods. In some cases, they're nearly untraceable. Those who ingest them can go about their activities as usual. I have known some addictive substances to be laced with such herbs without people knowing what happened until they were already too far gone."

Viggo's smile returned, but it was more sinister. His eyes were penetrating, but Dagur just looked between him and the chess board. It seemed like he was trapped. All the pawns had been captured and both of the bishops and rooks were gone. The visitor waited a moment, before frowning slightly.

"It's your turn."

"I know, I know. I'll move the knight in the middle to jump over that one."

In Viggo's next move, he stole the knight as well. This replaced his frown with a satisfied smile.

"You are running out of moves, Dagur."

"I'm not out of the game quite yet. I'll move my queen all the way to the back." He smiled. "I got yours! Hope your king's fine with being a widower because I don't take prisoners."

Viggo put a hand on his goatee. "I will admit that you've lasted longer than Oswald." His eyes moved up from the pieces to the inmate. "You also knew more about oleander flowers than he did, but he learned more during our last game."

Dagur kept looking at the chess pieces. With a disappointed expression, he watched as his king was claimed.

"You fared better than I expected. Perhaps, we'll do this again sometime. Have a good evening."

Viggo took the board and left the visiting area. He shared a few knowing glances with some of the officers before getting into his vehicle and leaving. The man parked at a large building and entered, quickly being greeted by eager employees. He sent them off to manage their areas, then went to an office. Viggo closed the door behind himself and sighed quietly once it was shut.

"Is he still alive?" someone asked.

"Yes," Viggo answered.

"And why is that?"

"Because I do not like to dispose of operatives without getting the most out of them first."

From a shadow in the office, a tall man stepped forward. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and beard as well as a scar over his right eye. There was a snarl on his face when he heard what Viggo had said.

"It's suspicious that he just showed up."

"He didn't just show up. He has been there for three years. The only new thing is that he got out of solitary confinement."

"He's crazy. That makes him dangerous. We aren't sure what he might do. He's too unpredictable of a variable."

Viggo shook his head. "I spoke with him. He's not dangerous to us. He has more muscles on his body than in his head. I can assure you that Dagur is no criminal mastermind. He's simply a disturbed young man with too much time on his hands. Aside from that, he is mindless and I refuse to be wary of a mindless person."

"You should hope that you're right in this belief."

"Don't threaten me, Krogan."

"Don't make it so simple, Viggo."

The duo glared at one another before Krogan stepped away and went to the door. He touched the handle and glanced behind himself.

"He doesn't forgive errors, so don't make any. Your actions affect me as well. If you make a mistake, it could be both of our lives at stake. Therefore, I promise you that if I'm going to get killed because of an arrogant decision you made, I will take you out myself first."