The taps screamed. Amy's voice.

Scuffles. Shouts of other voices. Click of a gun, orders hissed.

Abe sped around the corner, tires screeching and smoking. His heart pounded in his ears, going faster with each sound coming from the speakers. Amy was in trouble; and if they didn't hurry, and they dragged her into that abandoned hellhole, there was no clue what was coming next.

As the car sped down the street, Mark searched the window, trained eyes searching. He pointed at a clump of black-clad bodies pushing into an abandoned manor, and with them, a streak of brunette hair.

Amy.

"There, there, there!" shouted Mark.

Abe slammed on the brakes, and their bodies lashed forward. A guard whirled around at the noise and saw the cop car. She barked an order. The others dragged Amy through the withered door and shut it.

"Stay where you are!" the woman yelled, aiming a gun at the car.

Mark cursed and ducked, searching himself, the floor. No weapon.

Abe grit his teeth and crammed the vehicle into park.

"Mark," he said firmly. The bodyguard glanced at him. "You listen to me, and you listen to me closely. No arguing, you got that?"

Mark nodded. "Affirmative."

"When I get out of this car," said Abe, "you take my seat."

The guard outside stepped closer, gun pointed.

"You wait here, got it?" breathed Abe, and he locked eyes with Mark. "If Nelson and I don't come back in ten minutes, you drive straight to the precinct. Tell Director Kjellberg everything."

Mark nodded, and Abe stepped out of the car, hand on his belt. The guard seethed at the sight of him.

"Away from the car," she ordered.

Abe side-eyed Mark, and the bodyguard clambered into the driver's seat, trying to stay unseen. So far so good.

"I don't mean any harm," said Abe, carefully raising his hands. He stepped slowly away from the patrol car, eyes pinned on the guard. She came closer.

"Cops don't belong here," said the woman, shifting the gun in one hand. She pulled out a walkie-talkie and spoke into it, her eyes never breaking from Abe's figure.

"Girls," she said into the device. "I've got another straggler. Looks like we've got a few pigs on our hands."

The door to the manor opened, and two more women filed out, guns in hand.

Abe was outmatched. Even if he reached for his gun, it was too risky.

The first woman nodded her head. "Get him."

The other two guards approached Abe, and he did nothing as they grabbed him, dragging him towards the door. He considered struggling—putting up a fight—but the guns shoved into both sides of his ribs made him still.

From the cop car, Mark watched as the guards led Abe up the corroding stairs, into the darkness of the manor, and shut the door.

———

Boots scuffled, guns clicked, and Abe shouted as the women threw him onto the floor next to Amy.

He couldn't get a good look at the place. Only took in the sight of the entryway—stairs on one side, two halls leading somewhere. All corroded, all falling apart.

A gun pressed against the back of Abe's neck, and he bowed his head, staying down on his hands and knees. All he could see were the others' feet, now. After seven pairs of black shoes, he lost count. He was surrounded.

His heart raced, and his fingers dug into the wood beneath him, and in an attempt to calm his nerves, he glanced over at Nelson.

From what he could see, she looked unharmed. A few scuffs, a bloody lip, but other than that, fine. She glanced over at him, and they carefully met eyes.

They'd really fucked up this time.

Heels clicked from afar, and the guards stirred, boots turning to face the newcomer.

"You," came a familiar voice. The one they'd just followed all the way here into this mess.

Amy glanced up and found Wilma Barnum pointing at her, furious.

"I can't believe you," spat the woman. "You followed me!"

Amy scoffed under her breath, and she glared at Wilma. Even now, she had that fight in her eyes. It reminded Abe of himself when he was younger.

"I'm just doing my job, Barnum," growled Nelson.

"Oh, so stalking people?" scoffed Wilma. "That's your job? That's what you do now?"

"Protecting people—"

"My god, don't even get started on that," said Wilma with a groan. "Your system doesn't help things. It doesn't fix them. If anything, you make it worse."

A guard shifted. "She's on her way down," she said, and Wilma glowered, falling quiet. Abe and Amy watched as she stepped back and stood among the guards.

When the agents met eyes, they shared the question: who?

A steady rhythm of footsteps clicked upstairs, and the noise shifted over to the stairs by the entryway. Abe and Amy glanced over, and then the darkness parted into black heels, a pale leg, and then a willowy body draped in coal silk.

The guards stilled around them, and Celine Larose walked down the last few steps, her focus drifting onto the intruders.

Her gaze glinted, and her jaw hardened.

"Detective," she greeted, voice tight. Abe's eyes widened at the sight of her, and while the look satisfied her, she moved on to the woman beside him. "And you..."

The guards shifted out of Celine's way as she circled around Detective Abe and stood in front of Nelson. She bent at the hip and tilted Amy's chin up with a finger, gazing at her through her lashes.

"You were at the party with the Detective," said Celine softly, tilting Amy's head to get a better look at her features. "I must say, you looked stunning in that red dress. A shame you had to pose as a side piece to that dreadful man."

Celine's eyes flicked onto Abe, and the Detective glowered. She turned her attention back to Amy.

"What's your name, darling?" she hummed.

From afar, Wilma shifted amongst the guards, crossing her arms. Jealousy rose in her chest.

"It's none of your business," spat Amy, yanking her face out of Celine's grip.

The guards stepped forward and pointed their guns. Celine smiled.

"Well, it's none of your business trespassing my property," said Celine carefully. "Why are you here?"

Abe glared, every nerve inside of him alight, ready to pounce. "We—"

"Ah, ah, ah," said Celine, raising a finger. "The women are talking."

Abe opened his mouth, then shut it, grinding his teeth together. Celine parted the slit in her dress, slid her hand up thigh, and grabbed a gun from her leg holster. She knelt down in front of Amy and loosely pointed the weapon at her.

"Why are you here?" breathed Celine.

Amy's nostrils flared, and she glared at the gun, then at Celine. She didn't recognize the woman—had never met her, actually—but the way Abe's eyes glittered with fear made her rethink how she should answer.

Amy took a moment to inhale, then exhaled.

"We were following her," she admitted, glancing at Wilma. "We thought she might have a lead."

Celine tilted her head, fingers loose around her gun. "Lead for what?"

Amy glanced at Abe, looking for some sort of advice, but Celine snapped her fingers, bringing her attention back.

"Answer for yourself," said Celine. "Lead for what?"

"We..." Amy sighed, brows furrowed. "It was for Warfstache." She spared a glance at Wilma, then back at Celine. "We were hoping she would give us something on him."

Celine's brows rose with interest, and Wilma stepped forward.

"She's FBI," she said, glaring at Amy. "She won't be any help to us."

"Oh, how unfortunate," said Celine, faking a pout. "I would have loved to have you on my team, dear." Amy glared, and Celine pointed her gun at her, making her still. "Give me your badge."

"What?" breathed Amy, fingers digging into her knees.

"You heard me," said Celine, tilting her gun nonchalantly. "Your badge."

Amy sucked in a breath, and she glanced at Abe, at Wilma, at the guards around her. With a sigh, she gave in, and she slid her badge out of her pocket, handing it over.

Celine plucked it out of her grip with sharp nails and stood, examining the item.

"Special Agent Amy Nelson," she read, eyes running over the badge.

She nodded to herself, pacing a few steps, and hummed. The gun in her hand felt heavier with each second that passed, aching to be used.

Celine turned back to the intruders and knelt in front of them.

"You know where I'm based now," she said, voice dangerous. "I should kill you both right now."

"You can't do that," blurted Abe.

"Oh?" said Celine, pointing the gun at him. "Says who?" She leaned forward, and she pressed the gun under Abe's chin, tipping his head up. Her eyes glinted with sadistic delight. "You're the ones trespassing my territory. And I haven't done anything wrong." She rose a brow. "And besides..."

Celine trailed the gun down, pressed it into Abe's leg, and leaned in, breath ghosting over his cheek. "You wouldn't want me to add onto that scar, now would you?"

"Let's make a deal," Amy blurted, noticing Abe's discomfort.

Celine rose a brow, and Abe looked at her, eyes bulging as if saying 'what are you doing?'

Celine turned to her, and Amy swallowed, trying to come up with something. "Go on," said the woman.

"You'll... let us go," said Amy. "And in exchange, we'll... we'll stay out of your business." She bowed her gaze. "We know you're not working with Warfstache, anyway, so..."

She trailed off, and it was obvious she was bulshitting. But Celine leaned back, squinted at Amy, and considered her for a moment. It was a terrible deal, and she wasn't going to come close to agreeing to it, but it also made her think.

The FBI had nothing on her. Celine may have been a wanted person, but there were no recent cases or evidence to advance on her.

She was untouchable.

Elation rose under her skin, and she smiled.

Wilford was not.

Celine tilted her head and considered the intruders. "You're investigating Wilford," she said, searching their faces. "Why?"

Abe opened his mouth to speak, and Celine made a closing motion with her fingers to shut him up.

"I want to hear it from her," she said, tipping her chin at Amy. "Go on."

Amy sucked in a breath, and she sighed, shoulders slumping. She wearily met the other woman's eyes.

"Because," said Amy, "he kidnapped someone. Someone important."

"Oh, it's that rotten billionaire, isn't it?" said Celine, playing along. "I must say, if that's all you're getting Wilford for, you're wasting your time."

"You wouldn't understand," said Amy, images of Mark playing in the back of her head. The time she visited him at the hospital after being shot; the time he confessed his feelings for his boss.

They weren't just doing it to put Wilford behind bars. They were doing it for Mark.

Celine rose a brow, and when she saw Abe shift in a way to say 'don't continue,' her interest piqued.

"Wouldn't I?" breathed Celine, tilting her head. "Is the FBI hiding something about the hostage?"

"Let's just say," said Amy, glaring, "there's people with capable hands that care a lot about him."

Abe cursed under his breath, but Amy didn't pick up on it. She was still too new to the field to understand what a mistake she'd made.

Celine's eyes glittered with newfound delight, and she leaned back, nodding to herself. Abe wanted to wipe that look off her face.

"Alright, then," said Celine carefully. "Let me make you a deal."

Amy met Celine's eyes, and Abe even stilled.

"I want Wilford dealt with as much as you do," she said, and she rose to her feet, gazing down at them.

"I'll give you the location of his base," she said. Abe's brows rose high, and Celine rose a finger. "And in exchange..."

She carefully pointed her gun at them.

"You will consider me your ally," said Celine, "and keep me in the loop."

Abe's stomach dropped, and his face fell. "Larose, we can't do th—"

Celine cocked her gun and stepped forward. The guards followed after and closed in, shifting their guns. Abe and Amy froze.

"You're one phone call away," said Celine, "from getting fired, Detective." She made a face at him—something like mock sympathy. "You not only trespassed my property and brought firearms onto the premises, but don't forget..." She stooped down and batted her lashes at him. "I have dirt on you."

Abe's face paled, and Celine smiled, showing pearly teeth. When she straightened herself, the guards around stepped back, guns relaxing.

"So," said Celine, spreading out her arms. "Do we have a deal, agents?"

Abe and Amy exchanged glances, swallowed, and after a tense moment, they nodded and turned back to Celine. Amy was the one to speak this time.

"Yes," she said reluctantly, meeting Celine's eyes. "We have a deal."

"Good choice," said Celine, lips curling into a smirk. She waved her hand and turned away, motioning Wilma to follow her.

"See them out now, girls," called Celine, not looking back. "I've had enough with pigs for one day."

Boots shuffled, guns clicked, and then the door opened and closed.

When Celine was sure the intruders were gone, she stopped, turned to Wilma, and met her eyes.

"I haven't told you," said Celine quietly, "but we're ambushing your brother's base tomorrow."

Wilma's brows rose, and she searched Celine's face, stunned.

"By the time I give the FBI his location," said Celine, slipping her gun back in its holster, "we'll have destroyed the place." Before Wilma could protest, Celine smiled. "And don't worry," she said with a wink. "I'll make sure your brother is in one piece just for you."

...

WOO am I excited for what's to come mwAHAHAHHAA

Also, I wrote this in one day and ngl I'm PROUDDDD, especially since returning to it after a month. I usually have chapters prewritten for a whiLEEEEE lmao and they've finally run out ahSAKJD

Anyways, thank you so much for reading, and have a wonderful day!!

Love, Vic xoxo