Gyrus

Chapter Twenty-Five: Double Zero

"Remember, in and out. I wouldn't want you on the wrong side of the bureau's whip. Good luck Fischa."

I looked at the phone receiver as if he could read my expression and wondered what was up with his tone. Sure, he was now with Internal Affairs and wasn't supposed to show any favoritism towards the other employees, but for God's sake, we shared the same airspace with for three years.

"Is this how it's going to be, Mr. Allen?" I suppressed a chuckle as I loaded the magazine and clicked on the safety.

"What do you mean?"

"With all the formality. Talking like we've never met."

"This is an official dialog, Fischa. I believe formality is expected."

"Spare me the bull, Ed. We're buddies! I feel better knowing you're on the other side of this. We haven't worked together in ages."

"Fine," he sighed. "But time's wasting, Norman. Is Agent Daley with you?"

"Nah, but he'll be there," I drawled, loading the second gun. "Don't worry, we got this. In and out, as planned."

"You should have back-up. This plan is ridiculous."

"Maybe. But these guys are fickle. You saw what they did to Carson. If they know we're coming, we could lose Jeffery too. The smaller the team, the better."

"This isn't even a team, Norm. This is just the two of you."

"Which is a lot better than a team, won't you say so?"

I heard a light chuckle and couldn't resist a smile. That was more like the Edwin I knew, not this stuck-up official-sounding drone.

"Be careful in there, guys. We can't lose you too," he said, sounding solemn.

"Come on, it's me and Wong. Where's your faith? At this rate, I'm not gonna call you for drinks when I get back," I said, placing both guns in my holsters and grabbing my coat. I found my keys quickly and unlocked the door. Edwin didn't respond, but I could swear I heard him smile.

"Just get back safely. We'll discuss drinks then."

The call clicked off and I laughed lightly. I got into the car and sped out of the apartment complex, one of the many safe-houses we had been given to stay in once this Gold case began. Three agents were dead, one was missing and our team squad leader had been captured in broad daylight at his kid's soccer game. These guys had balls - something that made their future actions rather difficult to predict - and so we worked around the clock, trying to find something to give us an edge and place ourselves one step ahead. The painful part was that we had no idea who they were or what they wanted, only that they seemed to have a personal vendetta with the FBI or its officials. We had named it the Gold case after the fact that each dead body came back with a solid gold embossed calling card, clean of finger prints, of course. It was frustrating. The entire FBI couldn't get a solid lead on these people, and every time we thought we were close, they slipped away again. Godard, the second to be abducted - from his well-secured home - would have given us something to work with, but as soon as we got to his place it was blown to smithereens. But we caught a lucky break, sort of. Thanks to a vision I got two days ago - which I sold to the guys as an "anonymous tip" - I had a fair idea where they were. But without hard evidence, I couldn't get the bureau's backing, so this was something we had to do on our own. Which, if things ended badly, would land us in a whole lot of trouble with Internal Affairs.

Hence Edwin's fretting.

My phone buzzed as I neared the rendezvous point. It was in Chinatown's Red Light District, which I found both strange and comical. I pushed the button on the headset and waited for the caller to speak.