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"Are you positively sure that it's him?!" RJ yelled as he took an immediate U-Turn and headed for the address his friend in the Bureau gave, his foot pressing down deeper and deeper on the gas pedal, making the car zoom across the crowded streets. "Cam, you better be damn sure about this because if Maine is there, I'm not leaving him alive for any of you. I'm going to kill him! I swear to God, I'm going to kill him."

He's waited for this moment ever since Maine was taken away from him and now that they actually have a name, an address, and substantial proof that he was there on the night of Maine's disappearance, he's lost all sense of rationality; he didn't know what else to do besides kill him. His mind ran wild with the thoughts of her, prayers muttered under his breath that she was still alive, that she was there.

"I'm coming, Meng."

As the city passed by him in a blur, quickly fading out and morphing into little shops, houses and trees, the images in his mind seemed to be more clearer, sharper: Of Maine lying lifeless on the floor, Of The Reaper holding the weapon he used to kill her over his head just as he comes in. Of The Reaper. The Reaper. The Reaper. Of Beau Loomis, the son of a bitch mailman that came to his office a couple of days ago. Of Beau Loomis, the Sergeant First Class that served 4 tours in Iraq with the Special Forces. Of Beau Loomis and his mistake. Of Beau Loomis and how he was The Reaper responsible for the lives of 16 innocent people.

Once he had finally reached his destination, he stared at his Everest with nothing but pure disgust to the man that lived inside. The dim lights of the street was quickly lost in the gloom, and RJ forced himself to wait, to hide in the covers of his car until he was certain that Beau wasn't anywhere near Maine anymore. He pulled himself closer to the steering wheel, his skin taut against his knuckles as he wringed the leather underneath his palms.

One more minute, he thought to himself, and true enough Beau walked right out in his sweats for a jog. One more, he chastised before grabbing his gun and heading straight to the house.

An odd sense of calm washed over him despite the circumstance, his breaths becoming more even with every step. He looked over his shoulder and watched for any signs of Beau and when the rustling of leaves answered back, he trudged on.

"Meng?" He said, just barely above a whisper as he walked along the rose bushes on the side of Beau's house. "Meng, where are you?"

His eyes wandered at everything the moonlight did and did not touch, looking for breaks and cracks that might clue him in on where Beau hid his partner. Drawing in a breath, he jogged towards the backyard and broke in through the back door, not minding the shards of glass that managed to get into his skin as he reached over to open the door from the inside.

The entire house was dark, save for the brightly illuminated kitchen on his right. Floorboards creaked underneath his weight and he couldn't shake the smell of pine plaited with bleach off his nose. He crossed over to the living room in an instant, cocking and pointing his gun down the hallways and towards the kitchen, cracking his flashlight open and swivelling the weapon at every possible corner and at every possible nook. 

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