ABLOCATE ▇▇▇▇ VOLUME ONE
━━ ❛ 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 ❜

chapter no. 015!

❝ NO TRUST WITHOUT LOYALTY. ❞
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     "WHAT WAS HE TALKING ABOUT?" MORGAN QUESTIONED THE MOMENT SPENCER AND CARA RETURNED TO THE INTERROGATION WING. Furrowing her brows, Cara glanced at the doctor, wondering which one of them he was talking to.

     "Who?" Spencer asked, sticking his hands into the pockets of his pants.

     Rolling his eyes, Morgan folded his arms. "Farell. Who else would I be talking about?"

     Glancing at the first room, Cara watched how Farell had his arms crossed and stared blankly at the chair adjacent to him. "Which part?" she asked, keeping her line of sight on him. It was nearly impossible to read him, let alone begin to imagine what he was thinking in that twisted, fucked up mind of his. He was the most difficult to read out of the three. Owen was always the easiest and Arthur followed behind him, but Farell... he was different.

     "The punishment ritual." Morgan clarified, and she turned to him.

     "It's called the Red Blood. I didn't bother mentioning it because it doesn't affect your case, let alone any of you. There's no need to bring up something that, in the grand scheme of things, isn't beneficial to know."

     Out of the corner of her eye, Cara could make out the outline of a small frown crossing Spencer's face. "But it affects you," he pointed out.

     "Be that as it may, I'm used to it. The Red Blood comes with the territory of being a Scorpion. You'll never be efficient at the job if you don't learn to compensate for the hardships that are attached to it," she explained emotionlessly.

     "Valentine," Hotch cleared his throat, capturing her focus. "When Farell mentioned your history, was he referring to both of your dads'?" She nodded.

     Stepping forward, Agent Jareau looked her way. "What did he lie about?"

     Shifting her focus to the man in question, Cara narrowed her eyes slightly. "We needed to tie up loose ends. The Red Scorpions can't afford to have liabilities among them; we have to remain loyal, always—that's the first lie. They didn't have to kill off more than half of the members. It was unnecessary. The whole point of moving to Arizona was so we could live in a bigger area we could take over together. Arthur wanted us to become something bigger—something more global, in a sense. Killing off more than half of our own defeats the entire purpose of what it is we stand for. The three of them wouldn't make a play that senseless. It would only make the gang vulnerable and less effective. We wouldn't be able to make trades or negotiate with businesses. The Red Scorpions would lose money and loyalty.

     "The only way the three of them would kill off dozens of our own would be if the order came from someone higher up the chain of command. Meaning—they are not in charge. Someone else is. The second lie he told was that my father's dead. Farell didn't lie about giving my father to Arthur, but he did lie about his death. Ross Valentine is alive." Cara's voice was steady and calm, and she approached the two-way mirror. She stopped when she was five feet away.

     "How did you know he was lying?" Blake asked.

     Watching Farell tap his fingers along the table idly, Cara briefly held her breath. "Kirk Farell only has one tell, and it's incredibly difficult to notice if you're not specifically looking for it. His right index finger twitches when he lies." She pivoted and crossed her arms.

     Hotch's brows drew in and his hands intertwined. He stared at her. Something was bothering him. "If Arthur, Farell, and Sánchez aren't the ones in charge, then who is?"

     Cara shrugged indifferently. "I don't know which members are left breathing or if the Founding Fathers are dead. I can't answer that for you."

     "You don't believe that they're dead?" Agent Jareau asked, and she remained unchanged. "Cara?"

     "The Red Scorpions aren't easy to kill," she said, keeping her stance impassive. "The work we do is dangerous, and there is no trust without loyalty—there is no loyalty without trust. We're trained traffickers, dealers, and soldiers. The Founding Fathers wouldn't be killed so easily, and it would be quite impossible for my father to kill all of them with so little time. However, there is no doubt in my mind he could take them on, but it's walking out of a fight with four highly trained murderers alive that I find hard to believe he'd survive. Yet insinuate on his own."

     The interrogation wing was silent while the BAU processed the statement.

     "Kid, you've been extremely helpful and a great resource to have," Rossi began, breaking the tension. "I know we've asked a lot of you, but I'm going to ask for one more favor. Will you join Hotch and I when we go in to interrogate Joseph Arthur? Your instincts are precise and clean. Not to mention, it would be useful to have someone with us who knows his tells."

     The breath in Cara's throat hitched.

     People tend to say that there is nothing to fear but fear itself, yet in Cara Valentine's world, that wasn't true. There are many things worse than fear.

     Joseph Arthur was cynical and, at times, a maniac. Everyone in the gang feared him, and sometimes, Cara did too. After all, he was Michael Le's right-hand man and first pick of who would lead the Red Scorpions. Arthur was Le's golden jewel—his prized possession. Nobody knew why Le took such a keen liking to him, but their relationship was never questioned. The two of them together were a force to be reckoned with. Even when they weren't together, neither was worth upsetting. They tended to bring out the worst in each other and they used that combined darkness like a sword. Alone, they were just as strong. It was when they worked together that they wreaked havoc.

     Joseph Arthur was someone who sent chills down her spine whenever he talked. His words and facial expressions were unnerving. The man had spent so much time with Michael Le that when he was made leader, he quite literally became him. Arthur adapted to the way Le spoke and dressed; he picked up on his habits and the personality traits that made him so intimidating and terrifying.

     Le had this almost childish element to him. In his mind, everything was a game, and he always had to win. That's how the Red Scorpions were so successful. He turned the drug trafficking system into his own playground, and Arthur adapted to that prominent characteristic—making him crazier than before. If he weren't so much like Le, Cara wouldn't fear him as much as she does. He wouldn't be the leader she despised the most.

     "Will you?" Rossi's voice dragged her from the depths of her mind, and he peered at her, a slightly concerned expression appearing.

     Cara made her way over to the opposite end of the wing, stopping in front of the two-way mirror. Her hands formed fists and her nails dug into her skin. For a moment, the rapid beating of her heart was all she could hear.

     "Cara?"

     "I'll do it."

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     THE SUDDEN SOUND OF A DOOR SLAMMING CAUSED JOSEPH ARTHUR TO LIFT HIS HEAD, HIS CRAZED EYES AUTOMATICALLY SETTLING ON CARA. A shiver trickled down her spine, but she remained still. "Ah, hello darling," Arthur whispered gleefully, running his stare up and down her figure. "You had so much potential. It's such a shame that you had to go and waste it, but it was only a matter of time, I suppose. Ross Valentine raised you with a little bit too much of a pure heart—which is exactly what brought you to where you are now, my dear Clementine." The edges of her nails dug into the palms of her hands. She breathed in through her nose, ignoring the old nickname that hadn't been uttered in years.

     "Today, you're going to be answering some questions for us, Mister Arthur," Hotch said, opening a crisp manila folder and disregarding every word the man in front of him spoke.

     An enigmatic smile spread across his face, and he sighed happily. "Wonderful! I do love a good game of twenty-one questions." The tone of his voice held a childish tone to it that was deeply disturbing.

     "Why did you want Person X? Farell told us about the deal the two of you made," Hotch stated, giving his undivided attention to the leader. Darting her stare between him and Arthur, Cara waited anxiously for a reply.

     It was silent for fifty-three seconds before a delighted look overcame his face—his eyes glowing bright green. "Ah hah! The memorable trade between two comrades!" Chills were sent down Cara's spine at the similarity of how he and Michael Le both spoke, and she held her breath. "Agents—it's not a sin to say his name. I'll say it right now! Ross Valentine." Instinctively, she stepped forward slightly as a small fire ignited inside her. Whether her father was working with them or not, he was still the man who raised her and that would never change.

     "There's no need to get defensive, Cara, we're all just having a friendly chat," Arthur smirked, sweeping his eyes to her approaching figure. Pausing in her tracks, her nails dug deeper into her palms. "Now, to answer the million-dollar question! Valentine is such a key asset to the Red Scorpions. After all, he was the one who nearly ended us. With everything he knows, it would be such a shame for him to unleash those secrets on the innocent. That being said, I needed one Valentine to reach our endgame. It didn't matter who. Farell came to me saying he would bring Ross Valentine in exchange for deciding what Cara's punishment would be and keeping her as long as he pleased. It was a spectacular idea!"

     Cara's chest heaved up and she gulped, swallowing the lump in her throat. He lied.

     "Let me get this straight," Rossi cleared his throat. "You only wanted Ross Valentine because of what he knew?"

     Arthur nodded, a sadistic smile swinging across his lips.

     Lie.

     Pulling her hands behind her back, Cara hooked her index fingers.

     Leaning forward in his seat, Hotch sharpened his stare. "Where is Ross Valentine, right now?" Cara's eyes flashed to Arthur as he began to laugh. The corners of his lips lifted to reveal his pearly white teeth and a bone-chilling smile that etched its way onto his face. He wore the smile of a madman. "Owen mentioned that he's with Person Y—dead. Farell also said he was dead. Is that true?"

     Cara was prepared to hook her fingers again when he spoke, but his next confession caught her off-guard. "Those two never were very good at lying, let's be real here ladies." Both agents narrowed their gaze. "Ross Valentine is alive and well enough to still be breathing. I don't know why those two would lie about such a thing."

     Lie.

     Arthur was being truthful when he said Ross was alive, but he was lying about not knowing why the others would lie. He knew. Something wasn't right. Owen and Farell wouldn't lie if it wasn't a part of the plan; if Arthur wasn't going to either.

     Something must've happened to cause Arthur to change the original plan. They needed Cara's father but not because of what he knew—there was something else. The trio needed one Valentine to carry out their endgame yet Arthur lied about how it didn't matter which Valentine. They didn't need Ross to reach their goal—they needed Cara. Which meant that her father was needed for something else. Something that wasn't part of the plan.

     Owen insinuated the Founding Fathers weren't dead. So, if they were still alive, they would be the ones who needed her father—not Arthur, Farell, or Owen. The three of them weren't the real ones in charge. They were simply pawns on a chessboard carrying out the orders given to them.

     "Where is he?" Hotch snapped, growing irritable.

     "Ruby lips above the water, blowing bubbles soft and fine, but alas, I was no swimmer, so I lost my Clementine." Arthur directed his stare to Cara, and she felt the color in her veins fade. "Then the miner, forty-niner, soon began to peak and pine, Thought he oughter join his daughter, now he's with his Clementine."

     Oh, My Darling Clementine was the song that Michael Le told Cara she reminded him of. After she first met him, he began singing it to her whenever they were alone. The only ones who knew about that were the two of them, or at least she believed that.

     "This isn't karaoke night, Arthur. Where is Ross Valentine?" Rossi asked while Arthur's dark eyes never once swayed from Cara's. A dawning realization set in as their eyes remained locked. Ruby read lips above the water, blowing bubbles soft and fine, I was no swimmer. Ross Valentine was near a body of water and the only one connected to the Red Scorpions was the San Pedro River—right across from Fairbank, Arizona. The location of what was supposed to be the gang's new home.

     "He's at the gates of Hell, isn't he?" she asked. Her voice was timid and small, terrified of the answer. Hotch was shooting her a look of warning—she'd disobeyed a direct order, but she didn't care. None of the agents would make the connection.

     Arthur clapped his hands, delighted, and a crazed look gleamed in his green eyes. "Well done, Clementine! Sometimes I forget how brilliant that mind of yours is."

     Cara blanched, and her hands dropped limply to her sides.

     Then the miner, forty-niner, soon began to peak and pine, Thought he oughter join his daughter, now he's with his Clementine. They left him behind in Fairbank to be ablocated... he's boarding the train she took years ago. Ross Valentine was going to be leased to someone and that someone was most likely the Founding Fathers. They were the only people she could think of who would want her father.

     "Checkmate, Sin." Arthur's smirk was maniacal, and he snapped his fingers. "God, I wish Le was here to see how petrified you look," he breathed happily, and it took everything in her not to pin him against the wall. Shakily, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, soundlessly counting to ten. "You can count to ten as many times as you please, darling, but the truth will remain the same. We won."