NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This RP is closed, excepting tags. If you feel you have something that could make a significant contribution, then TG me. No posting here except tags. This is my way of fighting the ridiculous amount of nation RPs going on.

IC:
"The investigation into the disappearance last week of an un-named youth has been stepped up from a missing persons inquiry.... into a murder enquiry. The victim is from the Old Undertown area, and was said to have been alone when he disappeared, more from our crime correspondent, who is on the scene...."
A mother, watching TV switched it off. A week since her boy had gone missing, yet no word. He'd been with friends, but they had left at some point, and when she had arrived to pick him up ten minutes later, he was gone. A chilling thought struck her.... She turned to face her husband, worry on her face. "Is that our son? It can't be, surely they would have...." Her husband was equally worried, but he put on a brave face. "Don't worry, the police would have called us if it was him...."
The phone rang. They looked at each other, and inclined their heads slightly, as if in silent prayer.

~

*An abandoned warehouse, north of Old Undertown*
The warehouse was silent as a graveyard, no noise but that of a steady grating noise, like metal on metal. By a far corner, a man stood, his face masked, and wearing a long black garment, a cloak of some sort. He stood erect, as if waiting for a signal. On a table by his side, a boy, no more than 15. His skin was pale and his clothes were dirtied.
The man thought back fondly to the time he'd seen the boy. Laughing, walking with his friends, not a care in the world. They all parted, and he sat down on a spare patch of grass, waiting for his parents.
From his vantage point in a nearby car, he saw the boy the whole time, and as he lay on the grass, he sneaked up behind him. By the time the boy noticed, it was too late. A smash to the back of the head with a baseball bat, and the boy was dragged to the car.
He'd been drugged up since then, pumped with as much heroine as possible to avoid bodily damage, yet keep him asleep. This was it, this was the time. Sanctaphrax would live in a new fear, from a new kind of terror. The man shivered slightly and licked his lips, in anticipation. From the darkness came other men, 10 in all, and one of them nodded slightly. The man by the table silently raised the knife, and ended the life of an innocent boy.

The city centre had a funeral silence to it. People slowly milling about, but for the most part they were outside the city hall. The doors, huge oak doors, were closed, but it was what was on the doors that stood out.
In the light, a corpse could be seen, hanging from a door, a nail in its neck causing it to stay there, the ragged trousers causing the corpse to look like a ghost, the wind meaning it almost floated. Someone said the police had been notified, but there was no sign of them yet. Knife marks could be clearly seen on the shirtless torso, yet nobody had any idea how many or where. The faint wailing of the police car could be heard, growing louder as it approached, finally screeching to a stop at the bottom of the steps and the 2 cops got out, slowly approaching the doors, guns drawn as if the corpse might start firing at them at any minute. They fetched a ladder from a nearby shop and used it to get near the corpse. The policeman chosen to climb and retrieve the corpse slowly started climbing the ladder, the sight at the top made him vomit.
With surgeon like precision, the murderer had carved Until next time across the chest.
As the policeman climbed slowly down, his energy drained, he deposited the body at the bottom and shakily went back to his car. A deathly silence fell over the crowd, broken by a young boy as he started crying and ran to the safety if his mother. This sparked a chain reaction among the crowd, mothers drawing children in close, as if the murderer was among them. There was one thought on everybody's minds... Until next time.

"Yaar, that's going to replace the whale in my nightmares!"

In other words, [Tag]

[Tagtastic]

The area was quickly cordoned off and police ushered people back to their houses. People took quick glances over their shoulders as they were sheperded away.
he body was easily identifiable, despite the damage. A call was placed to the family home, and within five minutes the sound of a roaring engine and squealing tires was heard. The car pulled up just short of hitting a cop, who jumped back in alarm. Before it stopped the driver was out and running towards the cops, the woman with him just after. The man was thick-set with broad shoulders, a real rugby player. The police held him just short of the cordon that had been set up around the body and the team of cops. Once they explained who they were and took some deep breaths they were allowed in.
Upon seeing the body the mother gave a cry of anguish. No need to ask for her to identify him I guess, one of the cops thought to himself with a wry grin. The father didn't say anything, merely stood there shaking, as if supressing a rage. They were both taken to a physciatric facility for a check up, standard operating procedure for someone in their situation. The final verdict was that a night in the place may do them some good.

~

*Police report*
"It is our sad duty to announce that we have identified the body of a 15 year old boy, found today at 8:30, just as the sun came up. He was found attached to the doors of the Old Undertown city hall. The body was viciously mutilated, no motive has been found so far.
The police, in conjunction with the Government have decided to enforce a sundown curfew on all under-16s, for the best of this country. This is only temporary, until we find the butcher who did this.
We request that anyone with any information that may be relevant to this case contact their local police station. This is of the utmost importance. That is all I am at liberty to say for now. We'll keep you updated."

*The following morning police report*
"The police force are issuing a warning today, please keep your eyes peeled for a well built man in his late thirties. If you see him, do not approach under any circumstances. He is armed and considered dangerous.
Yesterday he escaped from Peaceful Streets Pyschiatric Facility and went straight home, where it is thought he entered, took his gun and left again. There have been no sightings of the man so far. Again, we warn people to stay vigilant.
The man is thought to be the father of the murdered teenager whose body was found yesterday. If sighted, please inform the police ASAP. Thank you."

~

Jenis Falolix wandered through the back alleys of Old Undertown, muttering to himself, unintelligible words.
His gun, underneath his coat provided comfort as he prowled the streets. He smiled to himself. The scum that had so cruelly slaughtered his son would soon be taken care of, courtesy of the Galil Micro assualt rifle hidden in his pocket. Purchased a little over a year ago, it had never been put to use.
Now was the time. He continued to wander aimlessly, avoiding the main streets.

~

*A rundown apartment building, Lake Landing*
A quick get away had been in order after the stunt he'd had pulled off. He couldn't believe he had gotten away with pinning a body to the door of the city hall. Now he was here, left to plot quietly.
He was wearing torn jeans and an old dirty t-shirt, just another homeless man. He considered his options carefully. Leaving the safety the building provided could prove dangerous. For now, he would wait, when night fall came, he would watch and listen, and find himself another victim.
He sniggered to himself, the citizens here had no idea of what was to strike.

Bumping this thread for another post/tags.

tag

As night fell the police presence in Old Undertown was stepped up dramatically. Police had been drafted in from other cities to help enforce the curfew, in some cases even army reserves were called up. However the police presence in Lake Landing was still the same as always. Having gone to visit a friend, a child now walked home, all by himself.
He shivered and pulled his coat around him. This area had always given him the creeps, all these tall, rundown apartment blocks and homeless people sheltering in them.
Suddenly, without warning a shadow emerged from an entrance behind him. Checking to make sure nobody saw him, the shadow hit out with a club, flattening the child instantly.
He dragged him into the shadows and counted to three under his breath. Hearing nothing, he dragged the body to a table in the corner, set up for the occasion. He searched in two pockets, and pulled out two thin, long knives, ready for the ceremony. No drugs for this one, just instant death.
Seemingly from nowhere, ten more people materialised from the darkness, wearing the same black robes that gave the impression of a shadow.
The man gave a shiver, and slowly licked the blade of one of his knives before plunging it into the heart of the child, who had just started to come round. Working like a craftsman, the room was silent, save for the grinding noise of metal on bone.

*Lakeview Mall*
9 AM, and the doors to the Lakeview Mall were just opening, the early shoppers came streaming in. On a bench there was sat a person, dressed in rags.
"AAAAAAAAARRRGGHHHHHH" the scream of a young woman. There was instant silence throughout the mall as everyone turned to hear the commotion. The woman kept screaming, and pointed at the person sitting there. The womans eyes were wide open with fear, and she threw up on the floor. The woman passed out, and the mall fell into silence.
Someone called the police, who instantly dispatched two cars to the scene.
So its happened, the murderer has struck again. I wonder what message he left us this time? Thought one of the cops. What happened to the traditional method of leaving a note next to the body?
The cars screeched to a halt and already the cops were out and running for the mall. They had to push their way through the crowds, and force their way upon the most disgusting scene they had laid eyes on yet.
A young boy, 16 at most, dressed in rags and sat on the bench there. His face stretched into an eternal grin, his eye-sockets unseeing, the eyes removed. Yet again, the torso had been cut neatly, carved with chilling care and skill. The area was cordoned off and people were ushered out of the mall while it was searched.

<tag>

taggishly freaky

A thin stretch of yellow tape seperated the rest of the mall from the crime scene, a line which the sergeant lifted and the two men ducked under easily. A few of the officers turned to give the stranger a hostile look, with one hand tucked in his trenchcoat pocket, and the other holding a styrofoam cup full of bad coffee; The very picture of casual arrogance, they knew could only mean one thing.

"Captain, this is Special Agent Szcepanik," exaplained the sergeant, identifying the stranger to a stone faced man who could only be the Captain of the 13th precinct.

"It's a pleasure, Captain Morris," the stranger smiled, and shook the Captain's hand. "Now I know you're probably not happy that I'm here, but if you work with me, both our jobs are gonna be much easier."

Andy Szcepanik had been specially assigned to this case for his specialty in homicide, specifically those with cult ties. And so far, this potential serial killer was showing all the classic signs.

"We're not stepping in officially yet, Captain, so this is still your baby. I've read the reports on the City Hall case. What leads do you have for me regarding this one?" He took a sip of the coffe, wishing it had more sugar, and jerked his head in the direction of the body.

"Well, it looks the same from what we can say. In both cases the body was used to carve a warning. This one seems to have a date on it and the initials A.J on it.
The date is set for around a week from now so we have to act fast to avoid the next murder.
The initials are one of two things, one those are the initials of the next victim, even though that looks uncertain to say the least. Neither of the bodies seem to have any advanced motive behind them. Just snatch a random child and kill them. Which leaves us with our second choice, which is he gets cocky and signs his initials into the body, goading us.
Not much more likely, but thats all we've come up with so far. What do you think? After all, you're the expert."
He almost spat out the last word, as if it offended him.

*meanwhile*
A man sat opposite his keyboard, chatting to other people over the internet, being polite and civil. His eyes were fixed on another person who had just entered the chat room. He'd been speaking to this person for quite some time, and they'd gotten to know each other quite well. He clicked her name "Party Girl 1" and started chatting to her again. Same process day after day for a week now.

"No, I think there's a pattern here. I don't know what it is yet, but I'm not willing to throw out the possiblilty."

Szcepanik finished off the coffee and handed the empty cup to an officer who was standing idly nearby. He glanced at the Captain blandly, understanding his resentment. These local cops simply hated when the big dogs came sniffing around. Too much loss of control. He snapped on a pair of Neoprene gloves and crossed the crime scene to examine the body for himself.

"'AJ' could stand for anything, but this mutilation and carving of messages seems to be the modus operandi."

He waited patiently for the local Homicide boys and forensics team to finish snapping their pictures and taping the body's outline. One of the homicide detectives joined him for the investigation, and to see what he made of the matter.

"Look here," began Szcepanik pointing to a trickle of fluid from the dead boy's ear.

"Blood mixed with brain fluid. He recieved a blow to the back of the head." The detective indicated the matted hair and bruising from blunt trauma. "Preliminary forensics suggest he was killed by the resulting fracture to his skull."

"No, that didn't kill him," Szcepanik calmly pointed out. "Why stab him in the heart? That would kill him. He was probably knocked out before this all began. The other body suffered similar injuries. I want a full autopsy and blood analysis. Find me some similarites. This carving was done with a straight knife. Serrated edges could never give this level of precision. We're probably looking at a boning knife, which is unfortunately common. Probably also made a good tool for removing the eyes."

He sighed and stood. "If 'AJ' is the killer's initials, he's looking for fame. Boasting, as the Captain suggested. He's probably reclusive..not well known. I hope you boys have a lot of free time, cause I need a list of all the people and places within a 5 mile radius that have the initials 'A.J.' I also need a list of all similar murders within the last year. Hopefully this guy has a history. Let's get to it, ladies and gentlemen."

He could see the Captain glaring at him from across the small square of investigation. He managed a smile, hoping it wasn't too arrogant and carefully removed his gloves.

"Like it or not, I'm assigned to this case, Captain. I suggest you get used to the idea. Oh, and Captain? Let's ID this kid and notify the parents. Maybe they can tell us something."

Szcepanik sat with his feet propped up on the desk, mulling over a list about two pages long. Captain Morris had been gracious enough to allow the Agent an office with a stunning view of one of the cities finely constructed brick walls. Almost two-thirds of the list had been blacked out as dead ends or false leads, but the remaining names were somewhat of a conundrum.

A light knock at the door broke his attention as a young officer brought him his coffee. This rookie had potential, and had already been of great assistance sorting out this list. Szcepanik thanked him with a smile and excused him.

He next went about searching through record books, seraching for anything related to "Amber Jack's." Szcepanik still was not sure that the initials stood for a name. So far all the bodies had been found at high-profile locations, and "Jack's" was a well-known night club in the area. It certainly did not seem out of the question.

But then again, Alex Jameson was also on the list. Jameson was a prominent member of society and a local celebrity. Apparantly he used to be an actor or something along those lines. The killer or killers might make the switch from high-profile locations to high-profile victems. The only problem was that Jameson did not fit the profile. So far, both victems had been kids, and Jameson had not been a kid for a long time now. Unless Jameson was perhaps the killer? Ah, but then there was that problem of motive again. However there were a few other names left that did fit the bill. They would be worth looking into as well. Pushing an intercom button, Szcepanik called down to the records and reports office.

"I need everything you have on Amber Jack's, Alison Jacobs, Antoni Jakov, Alexander Jameson, and Ann Jeffreys."

Within half an hour, a clerk brought up the reports and Szcepanik began pouring through the pages for his preliminary investigation.

RRFC no1 Fan! says:
Hey, how are you?

PartyGirl 1 says:
Hey sweetie, I didn't see you yesterday....

RRFC no1 Fan! says:
Yeah I know sorry, I wasn't here...

PartyGirl 1 says:
When did you say I had to meet you again?

RRFC no1 Fan! says:
I already told you twice baby, 17/6 at 10AM. At the back entrance to the River-Rise spring. :rolleyes:

PartyGirl 1 says:
Yeah sorry. Don't worry, I'll be there. Listen I've got to run now. I'll see you then ok?

RRFC no1 Fan! says:
Ok babe, remember, don't tell anyone. What would your father think if he knew you were going to meet someone you know from the net?

PartyGirl 1 says:
I'm tired of caring what he thinks. Bye.

He signed out of the chatroom and allowed himself a smile, cracking his knuckles loudly. This was perfect, he was finally going to meet her. He'd been tracking her for a month or more. She'd been extremely co-operative. "Coincidentally" they liked all the same things, and when he'd suggested a meeting she'd been overjoyed. His smile widened, and he went to the kitchen to make himself some food.

*meanwhile*
Jenis kept wandering around, his gun concealed by the coat. He ran out of alleyways and stepped into the bright glare of the street. He spotted a man and ran after him. The man turned and saw him, his eyes widened and he started running. Jenis knew the man from somewhere, but where was it? No matter, this must be the man who killed his son. He continued chasing him, until he crossed the street. He started screaming at the man, watching as he continued running and disappeared around a corner.
"MURDERER! CHILD-KILLER! SCUM! BURN IN HELL!"
More than one person turned around to watch the crazy man with amused looks on their faces. Looks that disappeared as soon as he got a gun out of his coat. Someone got a phone out to call the police. Jenis swung round, his hand shaking. "Put the phone down! Put the f-ing phone down now!" he screamed, tears flowing down his face. The woman complied and raised her hands above her head. "IT WAS YOU WASN'T IT! MURDERER!" She started shaking uncontrollably... from around the corner a police car drove. Jenis's eyes widened and he quickly aimed off a round of automatic fire at the car, smashing the windscreen and puncturing a tire. The car went onto two wheels but came back down, the cops emerged from it with their guns out. One of them spoke into their radio.
"Base, hostile sighted. He is armed, looks psychotic from here. Permission to open fire sir."
The captain sighed, why did these jobs always fall to him?
"Permission granted."

BUMP for more Tags!

Emma Jameson left the house, leaving a short note on the table for her father to see when he came home.

Dearest dad,
I’ve gone to meet a really nice guy I met over the internet, don’t know when I’ll be home. Don’t worry though.
Emma

The note was intended to scare him slightly, but she didn’t care. She got to River-Rise Spring early, and stood there in the early morning mist, waiting nervously. She heard a twig snap and spun round, but there was nobody there.

From behind her someone tapped on her shoulder. She flinched and turned around to meet the guy she’d met from the internet. Her eyes widened as she saw him and she screamed. He had a scare across his left cheek, some of his teeth were missing, he was quite tall and lanky, and he had an empty bottle in his hand, clearly some sort of alcoholic substance. Slightly scarier though, was the knife in his hand. She screamed again, but there was nobody around.

From behind her a man crept up, wrapping a rag around her mouth, silencing her. He tripped her up, forcing her to the ground viciously, then proceeded to tie her arms behind her back, twisting them mercilessly. She whimpered, clearly in pain. He tied her legs as well, then picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder as if she weighed like a feather.

He looked around anxiously, then fished out some money, thrusting it at the homeless man. The man looked it at, appraising it, then nodded and shuffled off.

The kidnapper snorted in disgust and bodily tossed the girl into a van that had just pulled up. He nodded to his accomplice as the van screeched off, and the accomplice punched in some numbers on his phone, when it answered he merely said “now” then hung up. The man on the other end sent a message by email to SA Sczepanik, who they were told had been assigned to the case.

We’ve got the girl read the message, nothing more, just that small bit of information. Not even the identity of the girl.

He'd gone over the files several times now and narrowed the list to two. However this is where progress abruptly ceased. There was enough circumstantial evidence to suggest the next attack would be either at Jack's, or would involve Jameson. The only safe thing to do would be to dispatch anti-crime units to both locations.

With a sigh he finished off his coffee and pulled out a phone book. Jack's owner picked up the phone, and Szcepanik informed him of his intent, stressing that he not tell his staff lest he risk alarming them and scaring off the suspect. The owner, though he was no doubt scared witless, was complient and grateful for the unit and undercover help.

Next he flipped though the white pages, and punched Jameson's number into the phone, waiting patiently for him to pick up. This was always the hardest part of the job. Telling someone they were a potential murder victem took very careful word choice and consolation. Thankfully Szcepanik was a master at making the public feel at ease - part of the reason for his promotion to Special Agent.

After a few rings, Mr. Jameson lifted the receiver.

"Mr. Jameson, this is Special Agent Szcepanik. The reason I'm calling is to inform you that I'm having an anti-crime unit sent to your residence to keep an eye on things for the next day or so. It's nothing to be alarmed about, I just want you to go on about your usual business."

"You're sending them here? Why?"

"It's just a precaution, sir. These guys are the best of the best. You have nothing to worry about. I need you to trust me, ok?"

"Ok.. but I'm still a little confused.."

"That's understandable. Just bear with me. Now is there anything I can do for you?"

"Actually.. my daughter ran off this morning. I keep trying to tell myself it's nothing to worry about, that she's just being rebellious, but she said she's going to meet some guy from the internet? Do you think you could have someone just go look for her? Make sure everything's alright with the girl?"

The girl. Szcepanik felt his blood run cold. He'd gotten an email this morning referencing "the girl," but had dismissed it as spam. Surely this wasn't...?

"Of course, sir. Give me her description and I'll send someone out right away."

After a full description and a thank you from the father, Szcepanik set the receiver back in its cradle. He ran a hand through his short blonde hair nervously before calling for Morris on the intercom. This would take more than one unit if his suspicions were correct.

ring-ring..

Szcepanik snatched the phone from its cradle before the first ring had completed. "Szcepanik."

"Forensics." Oh, thank all things holy. "We have the results from the trace."

"That was fast," he glanced down to his watch, almost an hour after he'd made the request.

"Yeah, well, the ISP was being cooperative for once. Anyway, we're having a runner bring you the results."

"You guys are all the way across town. I don't have time to wait. Give me the address over the phone."

There was a startled pause from the other end of the line as the officer processed this request. What differance could half an hour make? He'd of gladly emailed the information if that was allowed for in confidential procedures. Over the phone was no better, but why not let the fed take the heat for this one?

"1867 S. Kreiger Dr."

Szcepanik hung up the phone without so much as a word of thanks and ordered all units in the area to head for that building. They had been breifed about the girl, and were to treat the situation as dangerous and with a possible hostage. Within 5 minutes, 3 units had arrived at the site, all running with lights, but silence in place of the sirens. 10 minutes distant, Szcepanik was in the passanger seat of another cruiser en route to the building.

The building stood there, a tall apartment block. It was still being built, and was grey, with stairs running up the side, and some of the lower floors put in place. Just looking, it was clear that they'd been hoaxed, but still, there were stairs, and floors there. It was possible.. not probable, but possible.

~

The car made its way through town, weaving through traffic. He was trying to drive as normally as possible, to avoid any police suspicion, but used to driving above the limit, he was finding it difficult. He stopped by a red light and cast another anxious glance behind him. His partner placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Relax, they cannot know so soon. You want proof? Lets go and look. That will prove that they fell for it, plus it will be funny, watching the police failing to do their job. Come on."

Turning left, he drove down a narrow road, then hooked a sharp right. A few turns later they found themselves on the edge of a road. Parking the car, they peered through binoculars at the scene unfolding. Cars were pulling in by the minute, one or two even came from their direction. Whenever one did, they'd quickly slump down.

"Ok? Convinced now? They'll never even know. By the time they work it out, we'll be well away, now lets go back. We need to deliver her to the warehouse as soon as possible, be done with this."

The beat sergeant was the first on the scene, and took immediate command. He had organized search teams to sweep the building, and designated others to keep an eye on things outside.

"Move out!" came the barked yet somehow quiet order.

In a flurry of activity, officers took up their positions and entered the building in teams of 4. The sergeant's team took the stairs down, leaving others to search the upper floors. Dust swirled in the beams of their flashlights as they descended into the darkness.

One of the young officers found a closed door near the end of the hallway, and forced it open after a moment to quickly scan the room. Nothing. Another door, and more of the same. At the far end of the hallway they found an aluminium door which was not only closed, but locked as well. A faint glow radiated from beneath the crack of the door.

"Nothing on the top two floors, sir," their shoulder-mounted radios crackled.

The sergeant looked around at his men, giving them a visual cue. When all were ready, he kicked open the door and they descended on the room with guns held level. In the corner sat a laptop, hooked up to some sort of internet connection.

"Ground floor is clear."

"Basement is clear," he responded.

Holstering his gun, he swore beneath his breath.

"Dust the damn thing for prints and someone get me a serial number from that thing."

Szcepanik, still in the cruiser though closer now hit the door in frustration as the conversation crackled over the car's radio.

He had been about to instruct the officer to turn back when a slight unnatural glint caught his eye. There was a van parked up ahead, and an occupant seemed to be watching the investigation with a pair of binoculars.

"Hey, we better check that out," he suggested, reaching for the take-down lights.

Just as they were about to pull to a stop behind the vehicle, the driver floored it and sped off down the narrow street. The officer was quick with the reflexes and took off just as quickly, calling in about the pursuit as if the entire ordeal was second-nature.

Szcepanik grabbed the dash as they sped around a corner and wove through traffic. A secondary unit had called in to say they'd be joining pursuit on an intercept course. The cruiser slammed on its brakes, testing the limits of Szcepanik's seat belt as both vehicles ran a red-light and narrowly avoided cross-traffic.

And then his pager went off. Szcepanik swore and stole a glance to the digital readout. Double homicide. Federal.

Son of a bitch.

"DAMNIT! They've seen us. What the hell?!? Come on, lets go."
He floored it, slamming on the accelerator as he sped off through traffic, the damn cruiser right on his tail. Weaving through traffic, he tried to lose it. Suddenly the cruiser pulled to the left into another road, and the van slowed down.

"Why did he just leave? Somethings up"

No sooner were the words out of his mouth then another cruiser pulled up from the right, hitting the van hard. Side panels buckled and crumpled like tin foil as he pressed hard against the gas.

They resumed driving, weaving through traffic, trying to avoid cars who slammed on brakes to avoid them. A bus was approaching them, the driver wide eyed with shock. A last second wrench of the steering wheel by his accomplice brought the van driver out of the shock. The cruiser was still on his tail, sonofabitch was here to stay apparently.

"We need to distract him, cause a distraction somehow.... Get rid of the girl. Climb into the back,throw her out"
"Are you crazy? I'm sure the cops will sympathize with us when we open the rear doors and throw a tied up girl out won't they? Moron!"

A sharp cuff round the head sent him flying into the back of the van, where the girl was sitting, trussed up tightly, but still having heard the conversation. She was powerless to stop the man as he wrenched open the rear doors and threw her onto the side of the road, before closing the doors swiftly. She screamed, but it came out a muffled cry instead.

As her head connected with the pavement, she lost consciousness and rolled to a halt, blood dripping from a head wound, a sharp stone had been in her path, and she'd hit it hard.

The cruiser pulled to a halt next to the girl, as one of the cops ran to attend her, the other knelt down in the road, sighted, and took aim at the rear tire of the van. His shot clipped the exhaust pipe instead, and the van disappeared round a corner.

The girl meanwhile had been untied, and the cop next to her was checking her heartbeat. It was fast, much faster than it should be, and as he removed his hand from the back of her head, where he'd been supporting it, he found it covered in blood. Together, the two cops lifted her into the car, laying here on the rear seat, then slamming the front doors behind them as they restarted the engine, slowly merging with traffic, making sure the girl didn't take another hit.

You may have escaped this time, next time we'll meet, you will not be so lucky. Wishful thinking he knew, the licence plate number would be false, it would be given a new coat of paint and be fixed up, and they'd escape justice. He'd seen it happen too often. They pulled up to the hospital and parked, the engine whining to a halt. Whilst one cop went to get help, the other one paged Szcepanik.
Suspect, brown van, girl inside recovered, at hospital. Come and ID.

"I'm tied up in something right now. Call the father, but no one else enters that hospital room, understand? Hold her there until I can make it."

Szcepanik hated running an operation from a distance, but sometimes it just couldn't be helped. He needed the family together and that hospital room protected. Szcepanik mentally kicked himself because he was banking on the killers trying to abduct her again. Otherwise, he had no leads on the next killing. And there will be a next. He felt sick, as if the whole thing had been badly botched. Blood would be on his hands now.

The special agent leaned against a wall to compose himself. In the hospital, the officers and Captain Morris were setting up the necessary security. The father would arrive by squad car within the hour.

He made a second call to the precinct, instructing them to run the plates. More than likely they had been stolen. Hopefully the owner of the plates had seen something.

"Hello, are you Mr Alex Jameson? Father of Emma I believe?"

The one asking the question was a young male nurse, couldn't have been much over twenty five. He had a ponytail of brown hair, all swept back neatly. He stood tall, about 180cm if he'd needed to hazard a guess, and was built well.

"Yes, I am, nice to meet you. How is she at the moment?"

He was sitting there next to her, but there were machines beeping and buzzing and with lines running across them. Damnit, he was a businessman not a damn doctor. She looked peaceful, albeit slightly pale, more so than usual. The doctors had asured him that was normal, she'd lost a lot of blood. A white bandage circled her head, padded in the area that had taken the hit.

"She seems, stable. Still not out of danger though. Now could I please ask you to leave the room for a few minutes? There are some tests I need to run on her, all standard procedure. I'll call you back in in a few minutes. Thank you."

He left, and the man giggled, nurse he was not, but he had a certain knowledge of needles and the like. It had been easy enough to bluff his way into here, past all the security guards and them. He quickly replaced the two IV's in each of the girls hands, replacing the water with a much more potent substance. The more she took, the worse her situation would get. It wouldn't be instant, so no suspicion would fall on the nurse, but neither would the doctors be quick enough to save her. The Guardians of Night never started a job without finishing it.

His job done, he left the room and nodded to Mr Jameson, opening the door for him to go and see his daughter. He rubbed his hands together and went into the toilets, coming out minutes later in normal civilian attire. He whistled to himself as he left the building. Within minutes, she'd be lying as still as before, and her ticker would give in. He almost regretted the neccessity of killing her, but it had to be done.