1

As the evening fell and the street lights switched on, Daniel Bridgwater was upright and conscious. Other units had arrived. Two female ambulance workers checked on him. One was a woman of Hispanic American heritage named Veronica, who was a brunette in her thirties and kept a close eye on Daniel. He recognised that look. It was an inviting look. All he had to do was ask.

Or maybe he was concussed and read too much into it. The other was a blonde named Olivia, who also looked at Daniel in the same way, but he noticed the wedding ring on her left hand.

This was one to stay away from. They were both there. Daniel at one earlier point in his life considered dating a paramedic, then she joked about—well, about—well, she said this was a joke, that if Daniel left her, she knew five different ways to castrate him in his sleep and he wouldn't know about it. That, according to him, was the absolute and total definition of a red flag. He ended it the next day.

Both were attractive, and both loved his accent. They both asked him to keep saying words like mother and tomato. TOM-ATO, not TOM-EATO.

They did love the accent, despite the initial disappointment that Daniel neither sounded like Idris Elba nor anyone from The Crown.

They checked his head and ribs; when they met him, both were bruised, and they both marvelled at how he healed within minutes. All he could think about at the time was the various medical calls and how much this would cost the agency. He smiled at that thought because Bolton would be mad. Few things made Daniel happier at this current point in his life than Bolton being mad.

As they checked him over and over, though, he was not happy. He was not happy with himself. Daniel broke the rule that had kept him protected for a long time.

He cared.

As he replayed the gunfight in his mind, Daniel didn't think. There was no strategy. It was all emotion that was triggered when Royce was sent flying in the air by those men, and they tried as they might to gun him down.

Daniel knew it all too well, and it should not make sense, but seeing Royce close to death, seeing them fire at Erica, almost ending her life, brought out something primal, protective.

These were two things he really wanted to not have or exhibit in his life. This was not a trait he wanted. Daniel knew at that moment, when he ran after the Land Rover, that he did not want to arrest them. He knew he wanted to end them.

Daniel played the part of the cold, detached man that he once was for a long time. Daniel even had a name; they'd call him... The Angel of Vengeance. That man came back as he gained with each step, utilising every muscle in his body. He wanted to rip the skulls off the bodies of those men. His body was surrounded by blue and red flames.

People who saw it called him death-walking. Fearsome. Cold. Unrelenting. That was a horrible, sobering feeling for Daniel, one he didn't want to feel again. The EMT's left for a moment. He made a promise.

Keep the armour on. Protect yourself and have no fucking connections with anyone. Connections make a person weak. Connections cost me everything, he thought. I left the Angel of Vengeance behind a long time ago.

Erica walked up to him. 'You, ok?'

Daniel just nodded.

'I tell you Bridgewater, you know how to make an impression.'

Daniel shrugged with a good attempt at nonchalance.

Erica laughed. 'Cat got your tongue?' She looked at him as he blankly looked at her. 'That's all it takes to keep you quiet, being hit by a Buick?'

Daniel looked at the female driver, who was white, she looked in her mid-thirties, her whole demeanour said soccer mom. She spoke to Royce with animated hands and tears across her eyes in the background. She looked distressed. 'She, ok?' Fuck. Is that caring? Daniel thought, frowning.

Erica turned, looked at the pair. 'He speaks.' She expected a colder reaction from Daniel. She did not receive one. 'She's fine, just a little bit. Well, she's shaken up a lot.'

'Why aren't you over there with Royce?'

Erica looked confused. 'Royce is a big boy. He can handle to talking to someone.' Erica now looked concerned. 'You, ok? I mean, you normally make like three bad wisecracks by this point.' Erica expected some sort of spirited response from Daniel, and again, he gave her none. 'Jeez, that hit must have knocked it out of you.'

Daniel sighed, looking around. The dead cops were covered under white cloths, zipped up into body bags, and wheeled into ambulances. The two who were alive but fighting for their lives were taken with far greater urgency, their ambulances moved out of 7th and Maple with speed, sirens blaring.

'You're going to have to speak to me, Bridgewater. I'm now actually concerned that you may have,'

'I'm fine.'

'Yeah, but you,'

'I'm fine, Erica.' Daniel spoke with a louder, far more aggressive tone.

This was a weird moment for both of them. It was the first time since they'd first met that he called her by her first name; it's either been her last name, Chandler, or rookie. It was also weird because Erica couldn't hide that it affected her a little.

What made it worse was that Daniel didn't feel too great about it either. It was awkward for those few seconds as their eyes danced around each other as they really attempted in looking anywhere but at each other. One avoided it out of hurt, and the other avoided it out of shame.

One of them had to say something, since Daniel was a lot older, he was the one who made this awkward. It was he who had to say something. Anything.

He sighed. 'Erica.'

She looked at Daniel, and he could see that her steel was now coming through.

Daniel did not expect anything other than to be met with the deserved response of effective profanity, but Erica stood there, waited, and the right words—any words—wouldn't come out of his mouth, thus making it even weirder and much worse. He had dragged out this whole situation past its natural resolution. This was a horrible and weird situation now, all Daniel wanted to do was walk away. That's what he would have done nine times out of ten, but not at this moment.

'What? Daniel?' She asked with such sarcastic contempt and kept her angry gaze on him. Daniel knew that she had now entered the other game, the let's make you feel like shit game, and there could be many players. But in this game, only two were required.

Daniel was ready to say what he had to say. 'Erica, I.' He paused. 'I, um, didn't you know?'

'No, I don't. Why don't you tell me?' Erica's response was sharp, precise in a verbal joust that really threw Daniel off-guard.

Daniel sighed.

'Sigh all you want, Daniel; I'm fucking waiting.'

There she is, Daniel thought.

Evidently, she decided not to wait.

'You know what? Fuck you. All I was doing was just seeing if you were okay, but you got rude and started on me for God knows what, all because I fucking cared. You want me not to care?'

That would actually be good, Daniel thought.

'Well, you'll get what you want, because I don't really fucking care. It's about this case and then we'll part fucking ways.' Erica stated it angrily but also remarkably in a low, calm tone. Daniel could see that she was angry as she snarled those last few words, but if a person looked at it from a distance, it looked like a peaceful conversation.

Daniel had to admit it. That was quite impressive.

Erica shook her head and said, 'I'm done.' And she started to walk away.

There was this horrible feeling that had percolated in the deepest pit of his stomach. He had a real sobering feeling, and he wanted to do something. He needed to say, 'Sorry.'

Erica stopped but didn't turn around.

Fuck Daniel thought. She wants more. Fuck. That thought felt more like a moan. This is why he liked to work alone. 'I didn't mean to be so rude.'

She turned a quarter, but at least he could see a part of her face and could not judge if this had been successful or not.

'Erica, you're going to fucking take my apology. I'm wrong, I know I'm wrong, just fucking take it because I am sorry, but if you want to walk away, then so be it. So be it.'

Erica turned and faced Daniel. She walked up to him and stood right in front of him, only two feet away. He looked at her, and Erica gave nothing away.

Daniel felt like a deep gulp was coming, but he also felt like swearing at her for stretching this out.

She stuck her right hand out, and Daniel looked surprised. She nodded, ushered him to shake it and he shook it. 'Apology accepted.' She leaned in close. 'Make a promise right here and right now. Promise to not fucking talk to me like that again.'

'I don't make promises I can't keep, rookie.' Daniel paused. 'Erica. I am going to talk to you like that again; it's part and parcel of the business, the world we inhabit and deal with, it's just me. It's going to happen again, and you know what? I'll apologise to you again.' He avoided her gaze, and he knew he was about to say something deeper than he planned but that needed to be said. 'That's the best I can give. You either take it or leave it.' Daniel looked at her as he said that.

Erica nodded and said, 'Ok.'

'Ok.'

They stopped the handshake, and parity was restored.

Daniel felt humbled because it was the first time in a long time, he felt relief over a person. Still in the darkest recesses of his mind, he did not feel too good. He did not want to let her or anyone else in.

This was the true conflict and Daniel did not know what to do. It didn't happen often, he felt good to see Royce as he walked over.

He just couldn't believe that he cared.

'You do have way with the ladies, Bridgewater.' Royce said.

'Sad, but true.'

'Is she ok? What did she do? She sped into him?' Erica asked Royce.

'That's the thing; to answer your first question, she was just a little shaken, but here's the thing and I just realised I said it twice in the same sentence.'

'How can we, when you just brought it up?' Erica bantered, and Daniel wanted to smile, but he kept up his stoic stance.

'Ok, I got that. The driver said she was stopped; her handbrake was on; she felt the car just move forward with force. Her foot was not on the gas pedal. Like she was pushed, but no car slammed into her, and no one could move her that hard and that far.' Royce mused.

They all looked at each other.

'This is our guy. The Man in Black?' Erica asked Daniel.

'Could it be something else?' Daniel responded with his own query.

'What?' Royce asked.

'You remember seeing a number plate on the car?' Daniel asked Royce and Erica.

They both nodded, looked deeper into their memories, and then shook their heads. They both looked confused.

'There was a plate, but I remember from when I ran after them, the plate kept getting blurrier and blurrier the closer I got.'

'What does that mean? You have bad eyesight?' Royce queried.

'No idiot. I'm talking about a spell. A blurring spell put on that plate; hell, do you remember seeing their faces clearly?'

Both Erica and Royce answered 'No.'

'Then you are thinking,' Erica said, 'that magic, actual magic is in play here?'

Daniel looked at both of them. All he could do was just nod.

2

The night was pitch black after ten and the sky rumbled with thunder. Even in the dark, the clouds formed ominous and dangerous shapes.

The Ford Camaro had seen better days, and Royce certainly felt some kind of way about it, but that did not dominate his train of thought as in the police cruiser that he borrowed—well, he actually took as he drove up the interstate.

'So, magic exists? Like Harry Potter shit?'

'Yep.'

'Fuck, I actually thought you talking total crap.' Royce questioned further. 'How?

'If I could exist and be able to do what I can do and what you have seen, why couldn't it be magic?' Daniel replied.

'So, there are wizards and witches?' Royce was even more excited.

'Mages, warlocks, sorcerers—all of them.'

'Where?' Royce asked.

'I don't have the who's who magic phonebook, Royce, but just assume they are everywhere because they are.'

'Jeez, Royce said. 'Imagine if there was an actual school for Wizards and witches.'

'There are. There are loads of them across the world. Hell, I went to one.' Daniel confirmed, and he closed his mouth. He said way too much. He got too comfortable.

'You did?' Erica and Royce both asked.

Fuck Daniel thought. I had to open pandora's box, didn't I? 'It was more like Professor X's school for the gifted. Special people.'

'And magic was there?' Royce quizzed.

'Yeah.' Daniel said that he hoped that would be the end of the conversation, but he knew deep down that it would not be the case.

'Shit, Fuck man. The things you find out...' Royce said, and that was that. There were no follow-up questions. Royce had had his fill. He also knew that Daniel sounded like he was done with this conversation when he got the hint.

'So, you're bulletproof?' Erica asked as she turned and looked at Daniel with a curious look.

'Yep, Daniel replied.

'Near enough invulnerable?'

Daniel nodded.

'And also, real fast, so I assume you are strong too?'

'Yeah. I am.'

'How strong?' Royce asked.

'The whole don't fuck with me kind of strength.' Daniel said.

'So, what are you, then, a weapon of war?' Erica laughed with Royce, who found it equally funny.

'Yes.' Daniel confirmed seriously. The tone sounded so matter-of-fact that it caused both Erica and Royce to stop laughing.

'I was joking.' Erica remarked with a little bit of fear in her voice.

'I know. I'm not joking.'

'Wait,' Royce clarified, 'so you are classified, where you're from, as a weapon of war?'

'I'm called a walking nuclear weapon.' Daniel said as he looked out at the lights that lit the interstate.

The sparse, dark, shadow-filled world in front of him empty fields, quiet Danger—could lurk anywhere A large land filled with dangerous possibilities.

'Why?' Erica asked.

'Ask Bolton.'

'I'm asking you.'

'It's better to ask him. Trust me.' Daniel offered. 'I don't want to talk about this anymore.' He kept his gaze on the outside.

'Ok.' Erica said. 'Sorry. I didn't mean.'

'You've got nothing to apologise for.' Daniel countered.

'I'll still say it.' Erica stressed, and she felt bad. It was obvious that the nerve that was hit was deep.

There was silence. Then.

'Fuck!' yelped Royce.

'What?' Erica asked, startled.

'My wife is going to fucking kill me. My car…Fuck man.' Royce was close to tears. 'I loved that car, man.'

'Clearly.' Erica said with comical annoyance that it made Daniel smile a little. Erica noticed that smile, and she was glad.

'What should I tell her?' Royce asked exasperatedly.

'The truth.' Daniel and Erica spoke at the same time in the same exhausted tone.

'Nah, too risky.' Royce reasoned. 'I'll say it was aliens.' He looked at Daniel. 'Are there aliens?'

'The question is, did you steal this cruiser? Because I don't remember you asking for it.' Erica asked.

'I asked someone, I don't recall them answering and we had to get back so,'

'Stealing.' Erica replied sternly, 'Stealing Royce.'

'I asked, Royce said. 'I stand by that. It's not my fault they didn't hear.'

'Flawed logic, Royce. Real flawed.' Daniel smiled. 'I kind of like it.'

'Ah, look who's back, Royce remarked.

Daniel smiled, and then he realised why he smiled, and he stopped and went back to his armour again.

3

Royce's office looked slightly tidier than it did the first time. A person could actually see the carpet, but the carpet looked like some relic from the seventies, so maybe that's why Royce hid it.

A female cop named Cynthia came in with an oval wooden tray with cups of coffee on it. The coffee smelled good, rich in Colombian flavour. Cynthia looked older than most of the male officers here. She worked the front desk, with her large curls and even larger smile. The three each took a cup and thanked Cynthia for her kindness.

Erica especially gave her kind words.

'It's alright.' Cynthia said, her voice, which was youthful and light, belied the projected age that Daniel had thought for her. 'Just nice to be nice. If you need any help with this, did you want me to order from Ralph's Diner?'

The three looked at each other and smiled.

'Any good?' Erica asked.

'Good fries and fried chicken.' Royce offered as he tried to wait for the footage from the USB to be loaded up.

'Are you sure you should be having something like that?' Cynthia was concerned.

'We ain't planning to go to bed early.' Royce answered. 'Right?' he asked, looking at Daniel and Erica, who both nodded in agreement.

Daniel and Erica had files on their laps. They looked at the papers of the warehouse, who owned it, and what was stored there.

'Looks like the Warehouse is leased through various other companies across the state.' Erica added.

'How many?' Daniel asked.

'There are four warehouses in this town. All four are owned by a few companies: Piaco Ltd., Sanz and Co., EGR Ltd., and Lansdowne Limited. Are the ones who show up the most.' Erica replied.

'Are they linked? Does one company own them all?' Daniel asked.

'It looks like one does; they are all subsidiaries of Engrave Corporation. They are all over the world.'

'What do they do?'

Erica grabbed a nearby laptop and started typing. 'Scientific research.'

'Here? So, this warehouse is where they keep the equipment?'

'Yep, Erica answered, 'the four warehouses are all over Northeast Pennsylvania.'

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

'Engrave Corporation.' Daniel mused it in a deep, thoughtful manner. He said that more for himself, just to keep the name fresh in his mind.

'The footage is up, Royce interjected excitedly.

Daniel and Erica both got up and pulled their chairs around Royce's desk. They looked at the files.

'Check a day before the murder?' Royce asked.

'That's the last one.' Daniel observed. 'Go for it.'

Royce selected it. More films came up on Royce's screen. They select the first one. The footage came up in black and white from an angle at the top of the right side of the room, it was Marty sitting in his office. He looked around shiftily a few times, then reached for a draw, second to the left, and opened it. There were some magazines in the drawer and Marty took one out, unbuckled his belt, and unbuttoned his trousers. He then reached down.

'Don't need to see that.' Royce scoffed and selected the next file.

The footage started. Same black and white. Same angle. Marty looked busy as he typed on his keyboard. He looked focused. He looked right, and someone came in, and Marty stood up and shook the person's hand.

'That's Taylor, Royce stated.

Daniel and Erica both looked at Royce as he said that and then turned back to the footage.

Marty and Taylor sat down and looked like they had a good conversation. Daniel noticed that Marty looked at Taylor with pure admiration, showed a full set of teeth every time he smiled. The problem was that there was no sound.

'We're going to need a professional lip reader or something.' Royce added and he looked a little agitated; they wanted to know what was said.

They all noticed the change in Marty's face.

It changed from a gleaming smile to a more concerned look. Taylor went from being almost aloof and certainly relaxed to sitting forward and being a lot more animated and with his hands. As the seconds clicked on, what started as a nice chat of the jovial variety had now descended into a full-blown argument. Arms were out, fingers were pointed, and Taylor leaned forward. It looked like he had screamed at full pelt and Marty went into his drawer and took out his handgun, a colt 45.

The same gun he'd used to kill himself.

Taylor did not raise his hands, but the aggressive posture had slowly evolved to a more neutral one. Taylor even stepped back. Marty shook his head several times, and he even looked a little mournful, while his form in holding the gun and aiming at Taylor remained strong. Taylor pointed at himself, then pointed at Marty and left with haste. Marty still pointed the gun, that is when he began to waver a little, brought his arm down, and putting the gun back in the drawer.

The video was cut.

'Well, thoughts?' Royce asked the pair.

'Clearly he asked Marty for something, and Marty refused to play ball.' Erica said. 'But what did he ask and why did Marty say no?'

'That is the question, rookie.'

'I'm back to being rookie?' Erica asked Daniel, who just nodded back.

Royce clicked the next video file down.

The footage started. The previous two files were during the day, but this one, which was later that same day, was at night.

Marty looked like he was about to lock up when he looked around sharply. Fear hit his face, and they could see his eyes had darted about. He took out his gun and loaded it. He didn't load it in front of Taylor. Daniel picked up that detail.

Marty went to the door and as his hand touched it, that same door flew open, ripping off its hinges. Marty flew into the wall, hard; his back slammed with such force that various plaques and certificates came off the wall. Marty still held on to his gun as he slumped to the floor but slowly rose off the floor. His head looked up, like he was held by his neck, just in front of his chin. He was pinned to the wall. His right arm, the one he was armed with, jerked left, then right, then up, and then down. His arm settled.

They all could see that his arm shook violently; he was clearly not doing this willingly.

Then the man in black walked into the frame. He swept his hand from left to right, and the table moved as his arm swept. The man in black stood right in front of Marty, who shook either in fear or rage. They spoke for what seemed like two minutes. Marty strained and screwed his face, which looked painfully disjointed and misshaped by the sheer force that the man in black had put on him.

It looked like Marty must have said something of note because he was dropped to the floor and dropped his handgun. He looked in disarray; his face painted the picture of a man who was a few minutes away from death. There was pain, but there was also relief on Marty's face. The man in black stalked closer, pointing his finger at Marty and jabbed his index finger hard into Marty's forehead. Then he turned and left the screen.

The video cuts out. That was the last video file.

They all sat back.

'Well, you know what this means.' Royce said.

'Yeah,' Daniel replied, 'looks like we're going back to the Gun Range.'

Royce shut down his PC, put the USB in an evidence bag, and placed it in a safe. Royce locked the safe by typing in a code.

Daniel looked and hazarded a guess that it was Royce's or his wife's birthday.

'What do you think we're going to find back there?' Erica wondered.

'Answers. I hope the integrity of the scene hasn't been compromised. Find some semblance of truth.'

A knock on the door.

'Come in.' Royce said as he packed up some paperwork in a file. This was as organised as Royce had been, and it was a sight to behold for Erica.

A male officer opened the door; he was around five-ten, had short, clipped red hair close to the skin, was broad-shouldered and broad-chested with thick biceps, and was wearing a tight dark navy blue standard issue shirt. 'Can I talk to you outside, Royce?'

'Why not in here, Roberts?'

'Just need to talk to you in private, if that's ok?' Roberts responded a little hesitantly.

Royce nodded and said, 'Excuse me one minute.' and left the room with Roberts. He shut the door, but they did not stray too far from the office. They could see the faded, unfocused frames from the centre glass pane on his office door.

'I wonder what that's about?' Erica pondered.

Daniel just shrugged. 'Fuck knows. Only they know.'

'Think it's about us?' Erica mused.

'I could give two, maybe three fucks if it were. I don't care if they have a problem with us. People will always have a problem with us being here, Rookie.'

'I do know that. I am an American, Daniel. I've seen it, felt it, and bought the T-Shirt. Hell, the shirt was bought for me, I didn't even want it.'

'Painful shit.'

'It always is. You just have to roll with the punches.'

Daniel smiled. 'That a Chicago thing?'

'It's a life thing and it's the worst kind of life thing.' Erica stated. 'It should be better.'

'But it's not.' Daniel said.

Erica just nodded. Both realised there were no more words that needed to be said about that.

Royce came back, slamming the door. He looked upset—not just upset but seething with rage. The look of frustration was obvious, but the look of hurt across his face was the most evident and the most startling.

'What?' Erica asked as Royce walked past, then sat on the chair behind his desk.

'What?' Daniel echoed.

Royce stayed silent for a few seconds.

'What?' Erica and Daniel both asked with a real rise in volume and frustration.

Royce snapped out whatever held him in a gaze, looking at the pair. 'Sorry.' He spoke. 'Sorry.' Royce could not hide the mournful tone in his voice. He sighed and touched the top of his nose, which connected to his orbital bones. 'Audrey Lange is dead.'

'What?' Erica almost gasped as she sat down. Now she looked mournful. She had an idea why she felt that way, but she felt shocked that she felt that way so quickly.

'It was the convoy to Patterson.'

'How?' Daniel questioned. 'An attack?'

'Nope, would you believe a tornado hit them? Yeah, a tornado. One that came out of nowhere, none predicted by any station and the tornado didn't even last like a quarter of a mile. Lasted for like a minute, maybe two,' Royce sighed some more. 'If the tornado hadn't done enough damage, lifting three vehicles a few hundred feet in the air and dropping them, then lighting blasts hitting those same vehicles, finished the job.'

Daniel looked up and closed his eyes. 'Magic.'

'Yeah, actual fucking magic. Shit.' Royce wanted to yell but had to remain calm. That would do no good to him or the others.

'I know you made a promise to her.' Daniel urged. 'Aim to keep that promise.'

'What? Arresting or killing them?'

'Both, for all I care. As long as it's done.' Daniel clarified.

'You made the same promise. You plan to keep it?' Royce countered.

Erica looked at Daniel, and he did likewise.

'Yeah, I'm going to end it anyway.' Daniel stated this after a pause. 'We are going or what?'

4

Royce drove the same police cruiser to the gun range. Cynthia told them she would keep the food she ordered warm. They were all thankful, as dinner was currently some chocolate and nut protein bars from a vending machine, which was lunch and dinner combined.

There was silence. This could have been because it had been a long day for all of them, as the time was approaching a quarter to twelve in the morning. It could be that the whole day's events, with so many roller-coaster emotions and experiences that could last a lifetime, actually happen in one single day. A suicide, the comforting of a widow, and a gunfight This all happened over a nine-hour period.

They could all just be hungry.

Caffeine was Erica's and Royce's best friend, they had it in big supply. They took substantial gulps every couple of minutes, but they were small enough to not be able to make the coffee last long enough until someone could get another one.

Daniel, on the other hand, just sipped and held his cup in his hand. The warmth felt good. His window was open and unlike the others, he was very much awake. For some reason, the air in this part of the world and at this particular time just cleansed his lungs and cleared his mind.

There was more silence until Erica spoke. 'At least they weren't away from each other long.'

'You think he's back with her?' Royce asked.

'I do.' Erica mused. 'I hope so.'

Daniel did not agree, not from what he knew, but knowing something and knowing the right timing to bring that up was a skill needed for this job, which Daniel also surmised was a skill for life. He was well versed in ruining moments like that, and this time even he did not want to be the buzzkill.

There was no need. He even hoped he was wrong for their sake.

'I hope so too.' Royce repeated as he yawned a little.

They drove on.

5

Only two units were on scene as Royce parked. They got out of the car. Royce spoke to one of the officers.

'One of the clubhouses is in use.' The officer named Daniels stated:

'What do you mean?' Erica questioned.

'There are like four clubhouses on site. One of them is being used.' Daniels replied.

'They are aware it's a crime scene, that the range and everything around it, is still a crime scene.'

'It's Mr Harris, detective.' Daniels said it with a hushed tone.

Royce lifted his head and closed his eyes. He looked frustrated.

'Who's that?' Daniel queried.

'Who is that? That's near enough to be the most powerful or influential person in Preston.' Royce said.

'Well, let's meet him.' Daniel said.

Royce nodded. 'Okay.' His tone was not positive.

6

Once they walked past the actual range, which had dummies, targets on haystacks and, for some reason, targets of deer on wooden sticks, they passed a little hill. At the top, the streetlights stretched out into the distance.

The clubhouse was right in the middle of the grassy path and was the largest of the four. They could see puffs of smoke wafting in the night sky and lights were on. The clubhouse was made of brick and mortar, with one floor and what looked like only two doors to enter and one to exit from.

Royce walked down and Daniel looked at him. He could just feel the nerves almost emanating from Royce.

'Why are you so nervous?' Daniel queried.

'He owns most of the city and the next one over.' Royce answered.

'Did he know Taylor Lambert?' Erica asked Royce and Daniel smiled. He thought the same thing.

Nice one, Rookie Daniel thought.

'Yeah, we all know each other, but he and Taylor were very close. Best friends. They went into business together and had a tremendously fruitful partnership.'

'Then how come we haven't seen him?' Erica queried.

'What do you mean?' Royce responded with his own question.

'Glad you asked. I thought that someone who has such influence would be involved in some way with the investigation of his close friend's murder.' Erica confirmed. 'We haven't seen a hide or a hair of the man. He hasn't come in and tried to steamroller anything or insert himself into this. Nothing.'

That seemed to stop Royce in his tracks, and he looked at Erica. Royce looked thoughtful. 'We have to play this cool.' He said almost enough to tell himself those very words.

'We're the three coolest people in Pennsylvania, Daniel deadpanned.

'Clearly, you've never met Ben Roethlisberger.' Royce replied as they walked on and reached the door. Royce knocked. There was no reply, but the hums that could be heard from the inside stopped.

Royce looked at Daniel and Erica, and they all thought that was strange. Royce knocked again, and after around thirty seconds, when Royce indicated that they should get their weapons ready, the door opened.

A man who was tall and well-built wore a light blue shirt, black trousers, and brown shoes. He had slicked-back blonde hair, straight and flat at the front and neat at the sides. He had two-day stubble and blue eyes. His skin looked clear. He should be on a runway or adorned on a poster. Not some clubhouse in north-eastern Pennsylvania. He smiled at the three.

'Royce.' The man asked bemusedly, 'What are you doing here?'

'No, me first, Harris. What are you doing here? You are aware that this is a crime scene?' Royce questioned and he tried his best not to sound exasperated. He did fail at that a little bit.

'I paid for my time here and I was going to be here.' Oliver Harris paused. 'We were going to be here.'

'So, you clearly don't care about the man who died here?' Daniel quipped, tired of Oliver Harris's attitude already.

'Agent Daniel Bridgewater. Is that right?'

Daniel did not reply. He just stared at the man and did not blink.

'You are a hard man to find any information on.'

'How do you know my name then?'

Oliver smiled, not concerned with the death stare that Daniel had given him for the last two minutes. 'It's a small-town agent, Agent Bridgewater. People talk about all sorts of things. Plus, when people like you and Agent Chandler come into town and bodies start dropping, then there's a multitude of conversations to be had... and to be passed.'

'And what's your full name?' Erica asked.

'Oliver,' he stuck his hand out, 'Oliver Jeffrey Harris.' No one shook his hand. Oliver showed no embarrassment. 'Where I come from, that is a sign of disrespect. When a man offers his hand, you shake it.'

'Luckily, where I am from, no one gives a fuck about that.' Daniel said. 'Plus, you ain't earned my handshake.'

'The aggression. Damn. I thought you Brits were a little more cultured and more magnanimous in your behaviour.' Oliver replied, a little ruffled but maintaining his smile.

'You people around here have really got to stop watching these Richard Curtis films. I love them, but if you think that's what England is like, you need to travel there.'

'What are you doing here?' Royce questioned.

'It's our group; we meet a few times a week. Plus, with those men dying, that affected us.' Oliver said.

'You know any of those men who died at the warehouse?' Royce asked.

'You know I do, Royce.'

'Then why haven't you, I don't know, talked to me or anyone else in the police about his death? No statement from the King of North-Eastern Pennsylvania?'

'I would advise you, Detective Drysdale, to really watch your tone. This,' Oliver laughed to himself, 'is getting perilously close to police provocation. I mean, my lawyers, the ones based in Philadelphia, the ones I pay a high, but not ridiculous, amount to as a retainer, would really love to take this on and bankrupt you and your lovely wife. You have such a nice house in a nice part of town. Copland, they call it. Let's not ruin that. So, I implore you watch your tone with me, Detective.'

'That sounded perilously close to threatening to a police officer.' Erica stated. 'I mean we are witnesses and we saw that.' Erica remarked to Daniel.

'I saw that.' Daniel replied and kept his eyes on Oliver.

'I feel we could arrest him here. What is the state's law on being a rude prick?'

'This verbal fucking jousting is wasting my allotted time. It's wasting yours too. Don't you have a killer to find?' Oliver sighed audibly.

'Oliver, what the fuck are you doing here?' Royce asked again.

'With my group, we mourn our friends. That's what we are doing here and from what I know about my state and my country, we are allowed to do that and we're committing no crime so do you have anything to offer when it comes to that?' Oliver said, and he sounded a little more frustrated as the silver lining of that veneer of arrogance had slipped.

Daniel kept his eyes on Oliver's left hand, which had rested to his left the entire time he stood in front of them.

'How many of you are in there?' Erica asked.

'Answer my question first, Agent!' Oliver raged for a second and then immediately calmed down. 'Are we committing a crime? Is any crime under our law being committed right here and right now, Detective? Agents?'

'You want me to bring you a warrant?' Royce threatened.

'Please do, but assumption is not a crime, and your assumption is going to make an ass out of you, Royce and an umption out of all of this or you. Now, I don't know what an umption is or if it is even a thing, but I think you are it. So, if we have no further business, can we get on with our night? Officer?' Oliver jested with a smirk to Royce.

Fucker got that from the film The Last Kiss Goodnight, Daniel thought.

'We'll be back.' Royce stepped forward and looked at Oliver.

'No, you won't, Royce.' Oliver taunted with real confidence. His face and his grin made sure that others knew he was truly confident. 'Get home safe now. I hear a storm is coming.' he said, stepping back and shut the door.

All three just stood there for a moment.

Royce looked at Daniel and Erica. 'I really want to nail that guy. The thing is for what?'

'That is the question. What does he have to do with any of this?' Daniel mused.

'Let's get out here.' Royce suggested as he started to walk back to the car.

Daniel and Erica followed.

7

Back at the police station. It looked like they were at a dead end. They sat in Royce's office and ate the dinner that Veronica had ordered for them.

The fries were slim and crunchy, sprinkled with some spices; it tasted like Mexican but could also be Carolina Reaper sprinkled in, and the southern fried chicken tasted just right, crispy, yet when eaten, the seasoning flared all the senses and the meat itself was succulent and just tasted like a dream. For the briefest of moments, and for the first time in this day, there was a little peace.

'No prints. Our guy hasn't shown up since, looks like fucking magic killed Lange's wife and four officers, the one person who could have shown us something blew his fucking brains out and...'

'We are waiting for something.' Erica added.

Royce nodded in agreement. He gave a pensive stare. A momentary trip into a balance of many thoughts.

'How many did you think were in the Clubhouse with Harris?' Daniel asked.

'Not sure, possibly many. We could get their records on their clubhouse bookings.' Royce pondered as he snapped out his questions.

'We must assume that Oliver booked them on his own. Plus, if he's got storage around here, he'll have gotten in with some money and smiles.' Daniel suggested.

'Just as he did tonight, he used his name to walk through blocked-off land and get in.' Erica added. 'What do you think about the link between Harris and Lambert?'

'Yeah,' Royce sighed, 'they're friends. They were friends.'

'You said they were in business together?' Erica quizzed. 'What business?'

Royce looked at Daniel.

Daniel looked at Royce; both looked impressed.

'Are you over yourselves now?' Erica challenged, and she sounded disgruntled. 'The rookie made a good suggestion. Well done.' There was no attempt to hide her sarcasm.

'I'm not over it.' Daniel joked. 'But we should check that out.'

Royce yawned a deep and loud one. His mouth opened wide, and he smelled his breath. The look of outright disgust pretty much made the next thing that came out of his mouth the only thing he could say, 'Get your stuff. These problems will remain our problems tomorrow. I'll drop you off at the motel.'

'You know what,' Daniel said, 'we'll portal there. You go home to your wife. I'm not sure you can miss another dinner.'

Royce looked at the wall clock directly in front of him, above the door. Quarter to Twelve. 'Dinner's already been missed, but your motel is definitely out the way.' He yawned again. 'Could I get one of those portals home?'

'Sure, unless you want to feel discombobulated and throw up everywhere.' Daniel answered. 'That's what happens the first time anyone portals.'

'Really?' Royce asked, and he looked at Erica, who nodded, smiled and yawned.

'I'll get a ride from one of the units.' Royce said, and he swiftly getting that notion out his head.

8

Daniel and Erica watched the police cruiser with Royce drive off into the night. They had to wait for the next portal to open.

Erica looked at Daniel and yawned again. 'How do you do it?'

'Do what?'

'Act like you are not tired. You look more awake now than you did this morning,' Erica marvelled as she put her hand across her mouth as another yawn came and went.

'Life.'

'You see, that's frustrating.'

'How so?'

'That's your answer?' Erica fumed. 'Life.' She tried to sound like Daniel as she said what he said, but she honestly knew she failed miserably. She looked embarrassed, and Daniel felt embarrassed for her. 'You have to say more.'

'Why?'

'Because this whole not saying anything about yourself, when people,'

'You.'

'Yes, me want to know and actually think it may be good to talk.'

'We talk all the time.'

'Just not about you, Daniel. Nearly everything else is on the table bar yourself and I just want to know why.' Erica countered. 'Like, how do you feel about today? All the shit that's happened, all the deaths, make us seem no closer to understanding what the fuck is going on. How do you feel about that?'

'We carry on tomorrow, Daniel replied and for the first time, his voice had a tired drawl that followed every syllable.

'That's it? Four words.'

'Best I can give.'

Erica shook her head as a portal opened in front of them. 'Try harder', she said as she stepped through the portal.

Daniel followed.

9

Daniel and Erica said their goodnights as they went into their rooms at the Belladonna. Daniel walked in and shut the door. As soon as Daniel took off his jacket and his ear communicator, which looked like an ear bud, he placed on the bedside table and was soon joined his weapon and holster. He felt tired and those two things had to be removed before his body could relax.

Walking into the bathroom, he splashed some water across his face, almost to wake himself up, but this was a lost cause as his body was now conspiring with his mind to rest and he may as well listen.

What would being out there do for Daniel at the present time?

Snooping around for dead ends didn't feel right.

Not with the day he just had.

If the man in black was going to come for him or Erica, he would come, and that would be that, but Daniel thought that maybe Daniel or Erica were not targets yet.

The man in black had a mission, and they had just thrown themselves into it.

Daniel Bridgewater looked at his reflection. A few greys on his two-day stubble had emerged. He studied his face. He could barely remember how old he was, since birthdays no longer mattered to him but he kept his gaze on his face—those few greys and some wrinkle lines near the sides of his eyes. He looked at himself deeply for the first time in what felt like a long time.

Forty-one.

Daniel Bridgewater did not look his age from afar; he looked at least ten, possibly twelve, years younger than his actual age from a distance, but when a person got close to him, the subtleties of ageing started to paint a much clearer picture of how old he was.

For a long time, Daniel did not care about this, but that was fifteen years ago, and forty-one felt like a true lifetime away.

The lifelines are on the sides of the eyes. The lines of years of battle. Years of violence.

It did hit Daniel at that moment when he saw someone kill themselves in front of him. It was something he was not used to, and this was an honest admission to himself. No one should be used to that type of thing.

Still, it was a moment of truth. Just a moment and he quickly shook it off.

Deep down, Daniel wished it were true that Marty and Audrey would meet each other again. Somewhere in the afterlife. That love was truly eternal and not an earthbound construct. Something that poetic and sweet could only exist in fiction and that mellowed him.

There was nothing wrong with thinking that. Daniel thought.

'That's true.' said another voice in his head.

Daniel grated his teeth. He immediately knew who that was. 'I told you to stay out of my head, Bolton.'

'Well, you took off your communicator.'

'I wanted to take a break. Try to sleep.'

'This will be quick. Go to the big mirror in the main room.'

Daniel switched off the light and walked in. As the mirror rippled like waves, striking blue waves came across it and then formed into Bolton, who stood in front of Daniel. Bolton was in his office. He was standing with the blue flame behind him from his fireplace.

'Working late?' Daniel questioned.

'No rest for the wicked,' Bolton replied.

'You certainly are wicked.'

'Nice,' Bolton countered, unimpressed, 'but I need a quick update on the case.'

'Early days, Bolton. People are dying, people think we are involved, there's uber-powerful telekinetic as our main suspect; and yeah, we think Magic is also in play here.'

'Shit,' Bolton mused with a sigh, 'magic.'

'Yeah, a civilian and some officers were killed by freak weather.'

'Elementals?'

'Possibly. Not engaged with them yet, if they are even here.'

'You engaged with the telekinetic?'

'Yes,' Daniel nodded, 'he's powerful on a level I don't think I've ever seen.'

'You can handle it. That's why you're my best guy. How's Erica? Training wheels still needed or is there a true agent?'

Daniel thought about his answer before he gave it. 'Yeah, she's true. She's annoying; she annoys me a lot. But she is a natural. She's asking the right questions.'

Bolton smiled. 'I'm glad. I'm glad you took the time to think about it too. I thought this might be too much for her, but I remembered something. I threw you in the deep end and you figured it out and swam yourself out.'

'I didn't have a choice.'

'Not in this game. There is none.' Bolton stated and he paused. 'I paired her with you because she can learn from you.'

'What? To be jaded like me?'

'No, because you're jaded because of all the years you've been at it. You both will need that experience because the last telekinetic got close to killing you and she can provide support.'

'But he didn't kill me; that's the point.' Daniel retorted.

'No, he almost did kill you. Longstaff got the closest—the closest in a long time. That's the point.'

Daniel sighed 'Well, he still won, didn't he?'

'Not in the end. You got him. Gave him the brutal death you knew you were going to do, but I mean in the long run.'

'He won.' Daniel interjected.

'Listen, at the end of it, when you've solved this case, I want you to trust her and her likewise.'

'Why?' Daniel queried with a tired tone.

'Because it is no way to live, Daniel, and you've lived that way for too long. Keep me updated and get some well-deserved rest. Try not to have nightmares.'

'Yes sir.' Daniel saluted. It was a mock salute.

Bolton just shaken his head and raised his right hand in a graceful right-to-left sweep, and the ripples that came across the mirror morphed back into his own reflection.

Daniel sighed and went into the bathroom. He ran the tap, putting on the shower. Unbeknownst to him, behind his front door, Erica had listened to the whole thing.