The Director's forehead rippled with unconcealed annoyance at my cheery disposition as I entered his office, sitting in the seat across from his desk uninvited.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Devineaux." I greeted sweetly, placing a warm cup on his desk. "Cafe?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm going to keep you company today, boss." I took a sip of my own beverage. "Can I call you that?"

His frown deepened, ignoring my question, now scrolling through his agenda displayed on the tablet on his desk. Sure enough, he saw the assignment, signed off on by the Chief and the event in his daily calendar as well. He exhaled in resignation.

"Director is fine until you get hired officially." He picked up the cup, drinking from it tentatively. "How did you know how I like my coffee?"

I winked. "That intern of yours is a big fan of mine."

He rolled his gaze. "I hope she clued you into my agenda for today as well then. I'm exceptionally busy, and I don't have the time or patience for your antics, Gumshoe."

"Bien sur, Directeur. What can I do to help?'

While Devineaux was on the phone, I combed through the candidates on the short list for the next Academy class for abnormalities in their profiles. I feigned particular interest in Leslie Willkack from Montana as I did a little ear hustling.

"Have you reconsidered my offer, Suhara-san? I'm only asking for a few weeks..." He drummed his fingers against the desk, something I realized was a habit of his when he was in thought. "Yes, of course the job has changed, but the knowledge you have to impart does transcend that...Well, I see...I understand. Thank you for taking my call." He exhaled, and I glanced up.

"Tout va bien?"

"For an American, your accent is flawless."

"Well as far back as I can remember it was always French at home, English everywhere else." I explained. "And then I did live in Annecy for a year and a half while my Papa recuperated from the crash, as you probably already know." My Papa was in a small aircraft crash with a student which he survived, but suffered injuries to his neck and spine.

"Right. You lived in a small white cottage with green shutters right off of the Thiou Canal. I believe there was also a cat named Noir who wasn't the friendliest of his kind..."

I arched an eyebrow. "Okay. ACME is a lot more thorough than I expected."

He permitted himself a small smile. "I stayed there briefly while I was passing through the country on an assignment. You were there during that time as well, but we had no real interaction so you probably don't recall."

He was right. I was no stranger to Papa having guests as a kid, but I knew the rules - to stay out of their way, and not to ask too many questions. "How come you remember me, then?"

"You reminded me someone I used to know. It lingered with me for some time." His tone was light, but he obviously surprised himself with what he admitted. He covered up the blunder by busying himself on his desk.

"Not going to tell me who?

He met my gaze."I'm an Instructor at heart, Gumshoe. What would be the lesson if I didn't let you figure it out on your own?"

"Where would I even start?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'd find your way." Devineaux began, reviewing the short stack of candidates I had piled in front of me. "Just like you found your way here."

I blinked.

"Chief Inwood's grandson is in town. He's taken a few days away from the Agency, and I doubt reassigning who you were to be shadowing was a priority."

I opened my mouth, ready to defend myself when Devineaux startled me with his chuckle.

"I have to give credit where credit is due, Isabella. You have a lot of guts."

I said nothing, nervously fiddling with the file folder left in my hand. The Director's reaction was unexpected and unnerving. I wasn't sure how to pivot in response.

"I have to know. What could you want so badly from here that you'd risk everything?"

"I'm worried about O'Malley." I confessed. "No one knows where he is, and I figured maybe you -

"I don't, and I've been concerned as well." His face and tone resumed their stotic ways. "You and him are a lot alike, Gumshoe, in the way that you will follow your instincts and chase down a lead, no matter the consequences in getting there."

"So he was working on something."

"As you have probably figured out by yourself, Trainee Rouge, nothing official." His hazel eyes held mine. "Do you have something you'd like to share where that's concerned?"

I knitted my brows. "O'Malley's my teacher. Why would I know what he's up to?"

"Because of the career endangering level of concern you have for him?"

I allowed a moment of silence between us, in which I quickly assessed the situation. Devineaux wasn't outwardly upset with me in hopes that he wouldn't scare me off with the information I might have. I decided to be honest and give it to him regardless.

"David Morris, from my class, has a father in prison who was a part of Falcon - Ethan Morris." I cleared my throat. "He left abruptly after I was injured, and O'Malley told me to call him, which I did the night that you found out I was at Cat's Cradle. O'Malley hasn't returned since."

"Why would the two be connected?"

"The other Trainees have been whispering about David's weird behavior. When he disappeared they asked O'Malley where he went and he didn't give them anything, but was very forthcoming with telling me."

Devineaux surveyed me over folded hands. "Well, Isabella, it's no secret that Sean has a soft spot for you."

"Him and the rest of the Agency." I couldn't help my quick sass. "But I just feel like he was going to loop me in on this but something happened..."

The Director pursed his lips. "And what did David say to you?"

"Nothing of interest to report." I automatically echoed the standard phrase. "He didn't want Paul and I to come visit him in Monterey, and he wants to come back to training as soon as he can. The number is a burner though..."

Chase slid a yellow legal pad towards me. "Write it down. Have you spoken to Trainee Morris since?"

I shook my head in the negative. "I've been waiting to talk to O'Malley first."

Natasha, Devineaux's intern, tapped gently on the door with her tastefully almond shaped nails.

"Yes?" He turned towards her.

"The Deputy Warden at Horizon Correctional Facility is on the line."

I stopped writing and looked up in recognition. Devineaux noticed, but told Natasha to put the call through nonetheless, taking the pad from me to make his own notes. His mouth thinned as he wrote, saying very little. I peeked, seeing the name Ethan Morris.

"I'll be there shortly to do damage control, and have a team enroute. Local law enforcement will begin setting up a perimeter in the meantime and canvass the area." A few more scribbles and he ended the call, now turning his attention towards his tablet, which I assumed he was using to make notifications.

"I'm afraid to ask what you know about this."

"Comment?"

"Against better judgement, David's father was to be moved to a palliative care facility and he escaped during his transport. I had two Agents who were supposed to be supervising, both in the wind."

"I knew about the transport." I admitted. "And I did think he'd do this, it'd be the perfect time."

"Especially he has nothing to lose." Devineaux now stood, redoing his tie deftly, then gathering a few items on his desk. He stopped, noticing me still watching him from my seat. "Coming, Detective?"

I barely suppressed my grin. "Detective?"

"For the day." he amended. "Please don't make me regret it."

Horizon was about an hour by car, which was entirely too long and too late of an arrival time. But luckily the Cardinal was roosting in her nest on top of ACME's Medical building - a candy apple red Bell 206A JetRanger that had her name in flowing white cursive on the right side of her tail. Her pilot, Wells, was graying at the temples but still agile. His eyes twinkled when he saw me.

Devineaux couldn't help but roll his, but greeted Wells all the same. "I'm assuming you know Isabella. She's shadowing me."

"Good. Maybe after you can get her to put in some flight hours with this thing." Wells offered me his hand as I climbed into the back.

"Flight hours?" Devineaux queried as we both buckled up.

"I'm more than just a pretty face, you know." I answered, slipping on my headphones. Wells had been working with Papa for years, and between the two of them I had managed to get my private pilot license. But helicopters were a whole different animal because of the constant, full body attention they required to operate. To say the least, they made me nervous both as a student and a passenger. As the blades began to rotate and we lifted off, I felt that familiar floating sensation in my stomach that never failed to thrill me, but it was ruined by light turbulence as we were buffeted by the wind coming off the Pacific.

"You okay, Gumshoe?" Devineaux questioned with genuine concern.

"Just not a fan of how you can feel everything."

Wells' amusement filled our ears. "Once you get past that, Red, you'd start having fun. Give it a chance."

I took a minute to appreciate the clear view of the Bay and the Golden Gate above the incoming fog before focusing back on Devineaux who was seated in front of me. There were small horizontal lines indenting his brownline as he scrolled through what I figured were updates on the situation.

"My two agents were ambushed while on that transport." he finally spoke. "They were found nearby during the search."

"Unharmed?"

"Thankfully." He turned the device towards me now. "Do you see someone familiar?"

It was footage of O'Malley, with another male, both in ACME uniforms. He had attempted to conceal his identity with a pair of knockoff RayBans, and his orange locks were well tucked underneath a hat. They were both leading a sickly looking Ethan Morris into an unmarked van, each of them taking an arm.

"Why would he do this?" I asked in disbelief. "What does he have to gain?"

"That's the magic question." Chase muttered, now turning the tablet back towards himself. My communicator buzzed with a message from Paul, who wanted to know how things were going. I answered him with a quick fine, not ready to fill him in with more, especially in front of Devineaux who was being unusually lenient with me.

"What about the other male he was with? He definitely did a better job of obscuring his features..."

"I don't immediately recognize him as one of us, but I'm having his image run through the system in hopes we can find a match."

I noted the changing landscape beneath us of thick forest with rivulets of concrete that ran in between. As we neared the facility, the Cardinal began to lean slightly to the left, preparing for her descent in a cleared off area of the prison complex. The Chief Warden of Horizon was waiting to greet us below, along with the local police department brass. I could see that the search was well underway - the facility was on full lockdown, and the perimeter was humming with activity as they canvassed the wooded roads. But I knew they wouldn't find anything. O'Malley was too experienced for them to be able to.

"Go talk to my agents in the meantime, Rouge." Chase instructed. "See what they know. Then I want you to linger around and observe, as you're a little more unassuming than I would be."

I tilted my head. "Anything in particular I should focus on?"

"You have good instincts, Gumshoe. Use them." He gave me a light touch on the back and went over to the Warden. I couldn't help but smile at the rare compliment.

The two ACME agents were still with EMS on the back of an ambulance, not hurt, but obviously shaken. I introduced myself.

"Hey, I'm Red." I flashed my ACME ID quickly. "The boss told me to come over here and talk to you..."

"Kaplan." The female began, outstretching her hand. Her grip was firm, and I appreciated the strength. "This is my partner, Halls."

"Nice to meet you." His teeth contrasted beautifully with his dark skin.

"What happened to you guys?"

"We were on our way to the facility, maybe five miles out, when Instructor O'Malley pulled us over in an ACME unmarked vehicle. We were both shocked to see him out here in the backwoods and didn't really think anything of it until I saw the guy he was with."

"What about him, Kaplan?"

She shook her head. "He gave me hella creep vibes and barely wanted to make eye contact. So I decided to stall and let Halls actually reach out to the Agency and see if the transport was reassigned. O'Malley on his own would have been confident enough to convince us -

"But his accomplice was jumpy and he pulled out a gun on me. It's the first Desert Eagle I've seen up close." Halls finished.

"I've heard that's the Falcon's weapon of choice." I commented. "The more showy, the better."

"I didn't get to appreciate it in that way, Detective." Halls' expression tightened. "I was so sure he was going to pull the trigger, and I think O'Malley felt the same. I could hear it in his voice. I don't know what's going on, but I have to say O'Malley made sure we were handled with as much care as he could under the circumstances, which I don't think his friend liked too much."

"Did they talk amongst themselves?"

"No, the bare minimum. And we were blindfolded during the drive, so I didn't see anything either."

"What about a description for the second male?"

"Male white. Blond." Halls' began with certainty. "I wouldn't put him older than twenty five, right Kaplan?"

She nodded in agreement. "American, no particular regional accent in my opinion. Average build. I'm not sure he trusted O'Malley fully which explained his shiftiness, but he was no newbie. Definitely had some kind of training."

"Anything else stand out about him? Scars, birthmarks, tattoos?"

"That's all we have, Detective." Halls' features were apologetic. "The situation progressed so quickly...we were fearful for our safety..."

I thanked them, disappointed. As I walked away I surveyed the scene, wondering who Devineaux would want me to get close to. My Communicator buzzed against the inside of my wrist, with another message from Paul. After the night at Cat's Cradle, we decided that we would share our location with each other, and I knew he must have noticed mine.

"I can't say much." I dictated. "But what I figured would happen, did."

"I know." His reply read. "They've dropped everything to work on it. Can you believe it about O'Malley?"

"No." I answered. "Any leads on his accomplice?"

"System initially turned up nothing, but everyone's still looking. Keep you posted."

I tapped out my thanks as I walked the perimeter languidly, catching snippets of conversation but nothing of great interest. Feeling restless, I decided to join the fruitless search, walking over to a group of the local cops who were picking over O'Malley's unmarked van. I borrowed a pair of gloves and tied my unruly hair back into a low bun before using the flashlight from my Communicator to take a look inside on my own.

On my ride from South San Francisco to the Tenderloin, Gil had explained to me that ACME Detectives in deep cover would occasionally leave a sign for their handler if things were going as planned, something inconspicuous but would be understood by both parties - he often used a white lighter. I ran my gloved fingers over the driver's seat and along the sides, where I found a small tear in the seat, too neat to be accidental. I looked around before I reached in, touching something small and metal. I grabbed it quickly, slipping it inside my glove and continuing my search with shaky hands.

Once I was finished, I slipped away to examine what I had found. It was a challenge coin, with a shamrock on one side, and the NYPD logo on the other. I breathed heavily, turning it over in my hands a few times before deciding to approach Chase. He was seated in the driver's seat of a dark SUV, the door open and his body turned sideways in the seat. As I came nearer, his hazel eyes sparkled with proud amusement. I suddenly realized why everyone at the Agency found him so attractive.

"What?" I demanded.

He motioned for me to come inside, and I did, sliding into the passenger seat and closing the door. He did the same.

"Well done, Gumshoe. What do you have?"

I put the challenge coin on the dashboard, where Devineaux picked it up, holding it in-between his fingertips.

"I found it inside a rip on the driver's seat...I remembered when I was on that undercover assignment with Gil he taught me that sometimes Undercover leaves things for their handler to find..."

"It'd be a lot more pedestrian than this." Devineaux started, shaking his head. "Although I do understand the risk of something so blatant under these very unsavory circumstances."

"What are you going to do?"

"O'Malley is a rogue agent who has aided a felony escape. He has to be found and dealt with accordingly." But despite his serious words, he handed me the coin with a peek of a smile.

I accepted it, lifting my eyebrow questioningly.

"It was a lucky find. Maybe it'll bring you some more good fortune in your final weeks."

"What are you really going to do?" I pressed. "I know you like O'Malley, and I can't see you throwing him to the wolves when he's obviously working on something."

"My personal feelings for him are inconsequential in the matter, as are his motivations for the most part. Those directives you've been studying during training are not to be considered mere suggestions."

"But they are flexible to circumstance." I quoted.

The Director was slient for a moment, beating out a quick pattern against the dash with middle and index digits.

"I can't scale back for the sake of whatever Sean may think he's doing, for both the sake of public appearance and the fact that when agents go rogue like this, it's usually for a vigilante cause that rarely ends up well."

I parted my lips to interject, but Devineaux stopped me.

"Nonetheless, I will be opening up a quiet investigation into David and Ethan Morris, one that I would assign you to as well, under one condition."

"Which is?"

"You promise that you'll stay far away from this until graduation. Both you and Leung - I know he's been giving you a hand."

I narrowed my eyes.

"If Falcon is involved, it is too dangerous for even a seasoned Detective or Field Agent to handle alone. If you want information, or glean any by proxy, you come to me. But other than that, hands off." His tone was absolute.

"Fine, fine. I promise." I grumbled, but with O'Malley's challenge coin in-between my crossed fingers behind my back.