A sliver of the red sun announced the dawn like a blinding slash across the sky.

Tracy strode towards the back side of the property. Coraline had explained her living situation, how she was renting a room for her and her son until they saved up enough creds to move out on their own.

Together, after her shift, they had formed a plan to get Roy over to her place where Tracy would take him by surprise, cuff him, and drag him back to Earth to face the judge.

It pleased him that he'd be able to supplement her aid with financial support. As a single mother on a harsh planet in an unforgiving settlement, she needed all the help she could get. But this wasn't a handout. His argument with the Justice Department back on Earth had been an uphill battle, especially when he dropped the atom bomb that he'd need a new ship to get him off the planet, but it was a small price to pay for the capture of Royce Rothspalt. They had already wired Cora a percentage of the creds upfront, as Tracy had promised her.

Now all he had to do was capture Roy.

Judge weighed heavy in one hand. The cuffs in the other. The mismatched temporary arm still bothered him, but he stepped a little lighter knowing this would soon be over.

The plan involved using Roy's vices against him. The man had no self-control when it came to women. With Coraline rejecting his advances, her sudden change of opinion would make Roy seem like he'd worn her down, dispelled her objections, and finally would be getting what he was after.

Except Roy wouldn't find steaming passion in the sheets, but the cold barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his head, and painful restraints locked around his wrists.

The poetic justice pleased Tracy. He had to fight to keep his smirk in check. For him, it didn't just mean that a psychotic killer was going to pay his dues, or that a single mother would now have a better life for her and her son, but that Tracy's journey was now coming to an end. Sooner than later, he'd be walking up the front porch of his suburban home in Phoenix Arizona, and draw Hina into a tight embrace. And if he made it in time, he'd be there before she needed to go to the hospital.

His heart skipped a beat, just considering that there was a very real possibility that he'd be a father shortly after he returned home. Was he ready? Worthy? With each miscarriage Hina had, a part of him wondered if he just wasn't father material. Like father like son was a saying for a reason. Tracy lived his whole life making the opposite choices his dad would have made. But even now, he'd still left his wife to fend for herself, just as his dad had left his own wife, Tracy's mother. Of course Tracy intended to come back. Maybe his father had intended to come back, but life swept him further and further away.

It seemed that no matter how hard he strove to not become his father, Tracy mirrored him in ways too close for comfort.

He'd not leave Hina to strive alone forever.

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By the point he returned to Earth, Hina would look different. Plump pregnancy weight gained while he was away could only serve to make her more beautiful in his eyes. Tracy longed for her gentle touch, the smell of her hair, the way she laughed.

The doorway loomed ahead. On the other side of Cora's door lay guilt, murder, and madness in the form of a cult leader. But also hope, and joy once that man was in shackles.

The door latch was unlocked as Cora said it would be. No sounds of anything, whether false seduction, muffled voices, or scuffling could be heard. The walls must be thick.

He primed Judge and pressed onward through the door into a dark hall. Her door stood ajar, low light spilling from the crack. The soft aroma of fabric detergent and perfume leaked from the small makeshift studio room. Again, he heard nothing, good or bad. But the lack of any sound at all worried him. His chest heaved, expanding as he took one more full breath before rushing into the room.

The room remained empty.

No Coraline. No son. No Roy.

His mind raced through possibilities.

Struggle? The contents of the room were splayed about, showing possible signs of conflict. Or Cora did not have an ounce of cleanliness. Tracy doubted that.

Murdered? A small void hollowed a hole in his chest, growing larger by the second. Tracy's flesh hand trembled. He couldn't help it. His one relief was that he spotted no blood.

Foiled?

He waited for a time, lingering in the stillness. Then he searched the rest of the house. No one was home.

He returned to Cora's room, lifting a teddy bear who was smothered beneath a heap of clothes. Tracy recalled the boy's face. He could be no older than three or four years old. Old enough to be about the same age as Tracy's own child, if things hadn't gone south a few years back.

Cora trusted Tracy, put her wellbeing and the life of her little boy in his hands.

Tracy had to assume the worst.

Roy had somehow learned of their plan and acted first. He squeezed the teddy bear, then slammed the bottom of his fist down on a dresser.

Time to pull rank and throw some U.S. Marshal authority around.