Echoes.

Echoes.

Echoes.

Everywhere was echoing and all I could hear were the ear splitting noises.

Just as that paparazzo guy was ten feet ahead of me, trying to get to the exit before I could catch him, did I come out of my trance.

With anxious eyes, I looked over at my dad to see him staring at me worriedly. "Dad," I started, putting my hands on his shoulder. "Congratulations again. And, you too, Angela," I said when she finally came and stood beside my dad with a happy smile twinkling on her beautiful, glowing face.

"Thank you, Valerie," she acknowledged my wishes unlike my dad, who was still staring at me with concern filled eyes.

I waved at Chase and he did the same before excusing himself with an apologetic expression to attend a phone call. "Also, thanks for the dedication, dad. Like for real." Hastily, I searched for that camera guy again, who was stopped by a couple to click their pictures. I could sense that he was in a hurry just like I was to follow him.

A few seconds later, someone pulled Angela to the side with a wide, teasing grin and I assumed that she must be her relative or something. That left me with my dad alone and I knew what was coming.

"Val, what's wrong? You seem like you've seen a ghost." Again, it was just an echo. Echo of my dad's voice.

That's when I saw that paparazzo moving past the couple who didn't suspect a thing about him after clicking their pictures.

"Valerie-"

"Dad," I cut him off and turned to him with wide eyes. "I-I am sorry but I'll be… right back." I jutted out my thumb in a random direction.

He must have noticed my staring at the "cameraman" of his wedding because he looked at him too. "Who's he?" He didn't even spare me a glance while asking that.

I sighed heavily because that man was very close to the exit doors. "I'll explain everything to you, I promise but right now… I need to catch him," I told him, rushing out my words.

This time, he looked at me with an unamused look. "It's too risky, honey. I can't just let you to go behind hi-"

"Dad," I interrupted him again impatiently and tapped my feet on the ground. "Please," I begged with pleading eyes.

My desperation must have given away because he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine but if I don't see you back in fifteen minutes, I am going to call the police… in my wedding suit."

I laughed and shook my head. "Okay… though make that thirty. Thirty minutes."

"I am not-"

"Thirty minutes. Deal." And with that, I was off. Well, not literally because my heels were too painful to run in so I took quick, determined steps with my arms moving back and forth alongside me like I was marching.

When my shoe bite got too much and walking in my stilettos seemed insufferable, I quickly unclasped them and held them in my hands. I could tell that I looked weird right now as I was sprinting past people with a crazed look.

I had the biggest urge to toss away my heels but they were way too expensive to do that.

"Valerie?"

"Not now, Shi-" I stopped before I could finish the sentence and slowly turned to Shivaay, who was scrunching his nose at me.

"Are you auditioning for the runaway bride or something?"

I looked over his shoulder to see my other friends yapping away and laughing at Ivan's jokes. "Listen, I don't have time to explain anything right now but… give me your shoes. And before you go asking "why?", I don't have the time to answer that either. Now… your shoes." I gestured for him to be quick.

Reluctantly, he did as I told him to and nudged them toward me.

"Socks too, Shivaay." I rolled my eyes, getting irritated. I know that it was really gross to wear someone else's socks but… my shoe bite was getting worse.

"Eww. What the hell, man!" But he obliged anyway when I glared at him.

"God." With that, I thrusted my heels in his hands. Just as he was about to say something, I interrupted him. "Take care of them for me." Without any further delay, I haphazardly wore his socks before putting on his dress shoes. They were loose but I didn't have the time to complain.

"I wish I hadn't stopped her," he muttered behind me angrily.

Snickering, I ran outside the exit doors. Just when I had seen my stalker/paparazzo, he was unfortunately getting inside his small car. I hissed because I was losing him and didn't have any mode of transport with me to follow behind him.

My eyes widened as he was driving out of the lot, making me fidgety. Biting my lip in concentration, I was still rooted in my spot. I put my hands on my hips and glanced around with growing agitation. That's when I noticed a flower bike adorned with garlands, leaning against a wall. I squealed in delight internally and ran toward it.

Looking around for something to camouflage me, I saw a dark helmet on a motorbike's handlebar parked a few feet away from the bike. Quickly grabbing it, I rushed back to my bike and soon peddled outside the lot.

In a few minutes, I was on the road. I was some few feet behind his silver Sedan. There was a sticker of 'Wall Street Journal' pasted on the backside of his vehicle.

It took me some time to realize that the passers-by and vehicles zooming past me were staring at me. Of course, I resembled a funny clown in my maroon dress, black dress shoes with ankle length socks, a huge helmet covering my face and a bike full of garlands.

Jeez. This is catching a lot of attention and I highly doubt that the camera guy won't notice it. What was I even thinking?! After all, he's seen me in this outfit. Plus, I am just too embarrassed to be out here like this, I thought, sneering to myself.

As if hearing my prayers on cue, the green traffic light turned red. I was even more glad when I saw the Sedan at the very front, stopping at the signal too. Getting off of the frolicking bike, I put it down on the pavement and looked around for a random car.

Today doesn't seem to be like my day. I feel like I am stooping below my level. A lot. When I saw the one with a woman in her thirties sitting behind the wheel, I decided to approach her.

I knocked on her window with my helmet still on. It's better that people didn't have to see my face. She gasped before rolling down her window. "Yes? How can I help you?" She asked, looking at me weirdly.

"I need a ride. I want to follow that car." I pointed toward the silver Sedan. "He's a criminal and I need to catch him."

"And why would I do that?" Her dark eyes roved over my attire. Thank God that she couldn't see my dress shoes, at least.

"Because I am from the FBI," I lied quickly.

"Oh, really? And where's your batch?" She smirked.

God, I don't have time for this. I mentally groaned. "That's what I am catching that criminal for! Because he stole it."

She flinched at my tone and raised her hands in surrender. It was like she wanted to say something about my carelessness but decided against it because she gulped audibly. "Am I - am I in trouble?" She stuttered. And thank goodness that she believed me.

"You will be if you don't open this door right this instant." I didn't have to tell her twice because the next instant she unlocked her car and waved me in. Hallelujah! I was beyond relieved because the traffic light took that exact moment to change into a green one.

I quickly sat in the backseat and that woman frowned slightly.

"Okay, so-"

"Follow that car. The Sedan one," I interrupted her, pointing a finger toward the said car. "But be discreet, please."

Nodding her head, she followed my instructions. Soon, silence ensued but unfortunately Miss Curious looked at me through the rearview mirror. "Why didn't you sit in the passenger seat? I feel like a… chauffeur." She sounded offended.

Sighing, I adjusted the helmet on my head. I can only tell that I was sweating so bad because of it when the entire New York population was freezing outside. "Because I don't want to catch the criminal's attention."

"And why are you wearing a helmet?"

"The same answer as before. I don't want him to see my face." Or more like I don't want you to see my face either.

"I'll admit though. I didn't think you were a Fed. At first glance, it seemed like you were straight out of a badly and wrongly directed fashion show. No offense though." She laughed but stopped quickly when she must have realized that I was an "FBI agent" apparently. Plus, I had my arms crossed across my chest.

"None taken," I lied smoothly because truth be said, I was beyond mortified. Beneath the helmet, I was bathing in my own perspiration but I was too ashen to even lift it off of my head. It was better if no one could see my face.

"You kn-"

"Just… drive. Please," I said and automatically my hands flew up to massage my head, however I couldn't, so I rubbed them on the smooth surface of the helmet. I didn't mean to be so ungrateful and rude but I was already too sad and all I wanted to do was cry while holding a glass of wine.

She obliged and the whole ride after that was silent.

A few minutes passed by when the Sedan took a left turn. "Stop the car here," I told the woman and she did so without any questions.

Before I could wonder where we were exactly, she spoke as if reading my thoughts. "That's an alleyway, actually. There's an old warehouse over there but recently it's been used to store and dump all the useless cars," she informed me, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

My eyes widened at her knowledge. "How do you know that?"

"Well." She shrugged noncommittally. "I am a fire brigadier. There was an accidental explosion here about a year ago. I was with my team to blow it off," she explained before throwing me a suspicious look. She was about to say something when I opened my door.

It was better to leave before she figured out that I was not a Fed. Shutting the door behind me, I crouched low to the level of her opened window. "Thank you so much! For real. Like it's hard to find good people like you!" With that said, I breezed past her car, not waiting for her response.

I heard the revving of her engine and looked over my shoulder to see her getting back on the main road. Thank God.

I heaved a heavy sigh and turned to my work at hand. There was an incessant thought revolving around my head. Why would the camera guy come here… in a secluded warehouse facility?

Taking some light steps, I peeked through the wall of the alley to see that it was empty but my eyes zoomed in on the huge building that I assumed was a warehouse. I tiptoed my way toward the facility only to see that there were two guards stationed at the man door inside the huge gate. However, I did a victory dance when I saw that exact huge gate slightly ajar with no guards.

It's like those people were way too confident about not having an unknown company. But the biggest question was why was this guy working for "Wall Street Journal", meeting up with these armed, buff guys?

As those guards were interrogating the man, I subtly pushed my body through the gates, without making any noises. If they turned their heads even a slightly bit, I would be spotted within seconds. I made sure to be as quiet as I could be and quickly hid behind one of the thick pillars to hold the lamps, just a few feet away from the group of three.

As I was in their hearing vicinity, I heard one of the guards saying, "-will behead you if she followed you."

My heart was literally in my throat at that point. It was a bad idea to come alone, heck the worst.

"Yeah, yeah," came a thin voice which I assumed belonged to the paparazzo. "How many times do I have to tell you that she lost me on the way?"

"Good. Now say the passcode."

My back was pressed against the pillar, my brain not even daring me to peek through. I wasn't even sure how much time had passed after I left my dad's reception and I was too scared to remove my phone from my pocket to check the time. My hands were shaking so bad that I had them tightly fisted in my lap.

"Pizza is God," he replied but even I could hear the disbelieving laughter in his voice.

"Go. He's waiting."

And then it was eerily silent. I had to know who he's meeting with and I needed to make a move quickly. Unclasping the helmet from my head, I took deep breaths for two whole minutes.

Stop shaking. Be brave. You're a fighter! Plus, you know some basics of taekwondo. Those words had a somewhat calming effect on me. With the helmet suddenly feeling heavy in my hands, I slowly crept away from the comfort of that pillar and toward those guards.

They were both distracted and talking about something and I slowly crouched two feet behind one of the guards whose back was facing me. Maybe he must have felt my presence because he was starting to turn around. In my panicky state, I hit his head with the helmet from behind. A shrieking 'skunk' was the sound that emanated after the strong hit. He didn't even get to scream, wince or moan in pain before his huge body met the concrete ground.

The other guard was about to alert the others - if there were any - in his walkie talkie when I tossed away the helmet on him. It landed straight on his face before he fell down with a 'thunk'. "Bull's eye." They both lay down there unconscious and I was very grateful that they didn't even make much sound to attract attention. Or maybe, there were no guards in a close vicinity.

One of the guards started groaning and before he could open his eyes, I quickly picked up the helmet. Standing at my full height, directly above him, I took my hands off it and let it land on his face. Again. I winced on his behalf as it made another sound like 'dung'.

I almost snorted when I saw his tongue stick out of his lips but remembered that I had more pressing matters at hand.

Looking around me, I saw huge windows and another gate in front of me. I could tell that the metal fronted gate was bolted from the inside so I resorted to looking through one of the windows. Moving toward it, I squinted my eyes to catch something. The glass was slightly translucent but I could make out a few things.

There was a chair. Someone was sitting on it and trying to loosen the… binds? Someone else was rounding the chair with some papers in one hand and a… gun in the other. A gun! A shuddered gasp escaped my lips at the sight of that lethal weapon.

What kind of shit deal is this?! I wondered and my eyes landed on the third person leaning against one of the oldest, rustic cars. He had a camera in his hands and I instantly knew who he was. I blinked my eyes when I saw that there were about a dozen guards manning the room.

Pressing my face harder against the glass to catch a glimpse of the faces, I clutched my helmet tighter in my hands. Although my eyes widened and my jaw clapped on the floor at the sight before me. There in front of me, tightly bound to the chair was Jonathan Williams!

I don't know what was happening but my fear was beginning to crawl all over my body. I couldn't hear a single thing and as the other person circling the chair took another turn, I literally collapsed on the ground. I saw his face before he could take another round.

"Mr. Miller," I whispered, gulping heavily. "It's Mr. Miller."