Olivia's POV:

"Hey! This is Alli—Olivia! I'm trying to make a voicemail!" Allison giggled into the phone. "Uh, where was I...oh! Leave a message a-at the beep and I'll get back to you as soon as—hahaha! Liv I swear to—"

"Nothing?" Malia asked me as I hang up the phone again, not bothering to listen to Allison's voicemail. "She and her dad aren't answering our calls or texts, they're not home, they're not here. I mean, maybe Argent just doesn't wanna be found?"

Scott looked away from Argent's desk in the bunker where he was comparing the dozens of bullet casings to the one we found in the woods.

"Well..." He trails off before meeting my eyes with hesitation and pushing Argent's laptop close to me. "He would have his calendar on his laptop. If we crack the password."

Malia's expression shifts into a smirk. "I didn't think you had it in you."

I raise my hands in surrender. "Again, I'm not getting on Argent's bad side here."

"Well, I couldn't care less. Move." Malia ushered me out of the stool and plopped down in my spot at ease then proceeded to open the laptop.

Argent Arms International flashed across the screen but a small display window popped up in the middle of the screen, indicating for her to enter the password.

"Gun." Malia whispered under her breath and typed the three letters in the box.

***PASSWORD FAILED***

"Uh...I doubt his password would be something simple." I say as Scott paced back and forth in the room. "Especially gun."

Malia nods in agreement before typing something else. "Lots of guns."

***PASSWORD FAILED***

"Okay let me rephrase that. Usually, with passwords, it could represent a special connection to them." I add and she snapped her fingers with a smile.

"Hunter!" She quickly types it in but the same message appears once more which causes her to sign. "No, no, it's definitely not "hunter". I mean, 'cause why would it be hunter because Allison and her father are not even hunters anymore." She explained before she turned her head around, keeping her stare on Scott who had his back faced towards us, inspecting the crate near the workbench.

"I mean, there's not even hunters for werewolves at all anymore, right? So why would anybody think that there was a hunter in the woods when it was actually just deputies?" She continued but I furrow my brows questioningly as I glance between the two.

"What?" Scott asked, briefly looking over at us in confusion, clearly not listening to what she just said.

"Nothing." Malia murmured before facing the laptop once more.

"Maybe this sort of proves it in a way?" I suggest. "There's nothing here and Allison did say that she and her father wanted to disconnect from Beacon Hills for a while. Besides, I'm positive Allison wouldn't have let her father go back into business."

Scott rips off the crate's lock and pulled open the cover. "How sure are you that Allison and her dad went to Paris?" Scott warily asked and I quickly walk to stand beside him.

My eyes widen at the sight of the packed-up pistols, each of them tagged with their model and price. The handwriting on the tags was exactly like Allison's. "I don't want to answer what it means."

"It means, that I don't think they took off from Beacon Hills." He emphasized. "I think they're back in business."

"There has to be a logical reason." I quickly add. "You don't really think they would do you?"

Scott ignored the question and walked over to the furnishing to open one of its drawers and pulled out a crossbow, one identical to Allison's.

"Still think it's logical?" Malia sarcastically remarked but I roll my eyes in annoyance and walk over to the computer.

"Sort of but I have an idea of what his password could be." I mutter, pulling the laptop closer to me.

I type in the letters 'ALLISON' into the bar and click enter, watching as the screen lit up in acceptance.

Phoebe's POV:

"There you are, Phoebe." Mason's eyes widen with a smile as soon as I take a seat next to Lori on the bleachers. "I was just telling Lori how Corey's been training all summer to play goalie. He's actually gotten really good."

I turn to the field in time to see Brett swiftly throw the ball with his lacrosse stick towards the goal. The ball whizzes past Corey who tries to catch the shot but he stumbles to the ground.

I wince at the fall and slowly turn to Mason who wore a tightlipped smile.

"The season doesn't start for at least a week." Lori nervously added, causing Mason to sigh in relief.

"Thank God."

Brett sprinted towards the goal with the ball in his net once more as Liam tried to put himself in front of him. Unfazed at the position, Brett continued to push Liam back with all his might until they reached Corey, forcing the three of them to fall inside the goal.

Everybody in the stands 'ooh's' at the sight in front of them but Mason quickly looks away with his eyes shut.

"Um, was that Liam, Brett, or Corey?" Mason worriedly asked.

"I think that was all of them." Lori hesitantly added.

"Liam can walk it off." I mutter, watching Brett smugly say something to Liam as he got off of them.

"What is up with you two today?" Mason questioned. "Since the hospital, there's been this harsh tension between the two of you."

"To put it into simpler terms, he may have been the reason why Hayden decided to leave Beacon Hills and kept it a secret from me for months." I grumbled with a scoff. "He barely told me at the hospital last night."

"I thought she left to protect her sister?" Lori asked, causing my eyes to widen in shock at the fact she knew. "I caught up with Liam when he wanted my brother to help him run practice."

"So then he told you how I spent the entire summer miserable out of my mind?"

"I doubt the breakup hit you that hard."

"Are you kidding? Phoebe refused to leave her room and blasted a good amount of Taylor Swift's breakup songs." Mason added with a small scoff which I turn to him with a glare. "Sorry, too much?"

"Just a bit."

"Are you sure this pent-up anger against Liam isn't just the sadness from the breakup?" Lori sincerely spoke up. "I mean, look at it this way. Would you have been fine being the sole reason why Hayden didn't leave Beacon Hills to protect her sister? Wouldn't you have done the same if you were in her shoes?"

I guiltily look down at my hands. "Maybe."

"I don't think it was Liam's brightest idea to keep it from you but he does care about your feelings, you know." She chuckled. "Don't get me wrong, I would've been pissed off at Brett but I could never shun him out forever. Especially with all of the things he's done for me."

The crowd 'ooh's in unison once more and we look up, seeing as Brett laid on his back as Liam sprinted towards the goal with the ball in his lacrosse stick.

With incredible force, Liam shoots the ball towards Corey's head but he ducks just in time and the ball flies through and tears a giant hole in the net, scoring the point for him.

Brett stands up to his feet and ran toward Liam to chest bump him, causing him to stumble back a bit. Liam harshly bumps him back and tries to step around but Brett stopped him once more.

My eyes trail to the slightly bent-out-of-shape lacrosse stick in Liam's hands in concern.

Allison's POV:

"Major Delane is my contact at Camp Robertson." My father spoke up as the four men dressed in army camouflage inspected the packaged guns on display. "I'm surprised he didn't tell me about the change in protocol."

"Well, the Major got promoted and was promptly shipped overseas." Harper, the man who grabbed the first assault rifle from the crate beside me, answered with an innocent smile.

I narrow my eyes, catching his mistake about the Major. "I'm surprised the Army worked that fast."

His eyes flicker up and down with amusement. "They do when they want to, little lady."

My father and I share knowing looks before we turn towards the men. "The Major's not Army, he's a Marine." My father emphasized and instantly their demeanors change into guilt-written expressions.

"Who sent you?" I sternly ask. "Who's buying all this weaponry?"

Harper raised a brow. "We don't need to have a situation."

"We already do. See, I don't sell to weekend warriors. You want these guns, you'll answer our questions." My father countered.

"We're taking the guns, and the ammo, and the crates." Harper stated before he and the rest of his comrades threateningly point their guns at us.

My father tilted his head to the side, unfazed at the guns aimed at us. "If you knew anything about guns, you'd know they're not loaded."

In a matter of seconds, they quickly unclip the mag attached to their guns and reload their own before attaching it back into the clip and aiming it towards us. "We brought our own."

I discreetly glance behind me, seeing that one of the men stood behind and gave a small nod which I slowly turn with a smirk. "Did you honestly think we didn't have a backup plan?"

Suddenly, something sizzling behind us followed by a grunt causes me to turn around once more, my eyes widening at the sight of Malia's foot on top of the man's chest and Olivia tossing aside his gun with a glare.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" My father scolded.

"We should ask you guys the same thing!" Olivia scoffed before her eyes met mine. "Did you have a blast on your vacation?"

"Talk about that later!" Scott hissed before he gestured to himself, Malia, and Olivia. "We're your backup now."

"We had a guy on the inside." I scold.

Malia narrowed her eyes in disbelief. "Who?"

"You're standing on him."

The three of them look down at the unconscious man and Malia slowly moved her boot off of his chest.

My eyes flicker to the three men that kept their guns aimed at us. "I knew we should've stuck with pistols."

"Which is why I have a second backup plan." My father emphasized before he turned towards the others. "Get down!"

I quickly dive behind the large crates as the lights in the market above us shut off.

As Harper and the other two men shot at us with their rifles, Olivia rolled towards me and pressed her back against the crate, clutching onto her arm with a huff. "I thought you left for Long Beach! What the hell are you doing here?" I remark, quickly taking my crossbow I hid before the men arrived and reloading a flash arrow into the trigger.

"I should be asking you the same thing! I thought you were in Paris!" She countered and gestured to the crates around us. "Clearly someone's been busy in Beacon Hills."

"Don't mean to interrupt the reunion but we could use your help, guys." Scott cut in.

As if on cue, the gunfire ceased in which Malia groaned, stepping out of her hiding spot behind the pillar to quickly drag the unconscious man out of harm's way.

My father and I stand up from our spots and I aim my arrow in front of Harper's feet and pull the trigger, releasing the arrow to hit the ground.

A bright flash causes the men to turn away with their eyes shut, leaving Olivia and Scott to step out of their spots to rush forward.

Olivia's hands erupted into flames and she grabs onto the tip of the gun, melting the end so it wouldn't fire, and kicked the man to the ground. He tried to stand on his feet once more but she quickly slammed the end against his head, knocking him unconscious.

However, Harper aims his rifle toward Olivia which causes her to freeze in place with Scott standing behind, unsure of what to do at the moment.

I reload another arrow into my crossbow with a click, causing Harper's gaze to flicker to mine with his eyes wide, seeing that the arrow was aimed directly at his head. "Make things easier for you by putting the gun down." I harshly state.

Harper rolls his eyes in annoyance and dropped the rifle, letting it clatter to the ground.

"Who are the guns for?" My father questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.

Instead of answering his question, Harper drops something to the ground and once I recognize the shape, we quickly dive away from the grenade.

In a matter of seconds, the grenade explodes into a blast which causes the smoke to block our vision.

I blindly reach for one of the crates to help stabilize my balance but through the smoke, the figure sprints away from the scene and jumped into the car, driving off into the night.

"Well, there goes that plan." I mutter and turn to the others, getting a better view of them since the smoke disintegrated.

"It's okay." My father assured me before he looked at Scott, Malia, and Olivia. "For the record, we had everything under control."

Olivia raised a brow. "That was under control?"

I place my crossbow inside the crate and cross my arms over my chest. "How did you find us?"

Malia pointed to Scott. "He did it." She spoke but then quickly points to Olivia as well. "Specifically, she cracked the passcode and Scott found the place."

I raise a brow as Olivia pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance. "Did our conversation in the car go out the window?"

"I...might've tuned it out."

"To be fair, you left your computer in the bunker." Scott tried to assure. "Took a couple of tries but we managed to get it right."

My father awkwardly scratched the back of his neck before letting out a sigh. "I guess I need a new password."

"We've been trying to get a hold of you guys." Olivia muttered, covering her hand over her bloodied arm which emitted a small glow to heal the wound. "A text would've been nice, you know. Specifically, the truth."

"We were on vacation but during the trip, I kept getting phone calls about our sales for the weapons we have." My father explained and I nod in agreement.

"To the point where it became concerning and...I wanted to know why." I add with a small shrug. "So for the past couple of weeks, we've been investigating by trying to find the source, and tonight...we were hoping he'd talk."

"Have you made any unusual sales recently?" Scott asked with discomfort.

"Like a bullet with a fleur-de-lis?" Malia added.

My dad shakes his head. "I stopped as soon as Allison graduated from hunter training."

I grab one of the arrows from my quiver bag and hold it out for them to see the arrowhead engraving. "And I only stamp the symbol on my arrows."

"Well...someone just killed a Hellhound with one." Olivia hesitantly trailed.

"Do you have the casing?"

Scott nods and dug through his pockets but his eyes widened. He slowly turns behind us at the dozens of bullet casings across the floor which causes him to sigh in defeat. "It must have fallen out."

"You don't need the casing, you need the slug." My dad assured. "Find that, and you'll find your killer."