Stilinski

Chapter Five

Deputy director Morris slid the file across the table, Peter Gardner grabbed the vanilla envelope with interest wondering what his next mission would be. When he opened the file he was confused at what he was exactly supposed to do. Hunt down the shooter that killed Lydia Martin, who had left he scene with out a trace of evidence left behind.

"Sir, you want me to trace this assassin, who may I point out has no leads to." Morris sighed, he was exhausted, he was feeling a step behind in the past few years. Terror was being harder to control with the budget cuts being placed on his organization, he was trying to operate secretly as the GHOST team wasn't meant to exist. But he wasn't sure if it could be kept secret in order to take down the threat.

"We have reason to believe that he was hired by the NFG." Peters eyes narrowed in confusion as he began to read the file.
"Sir, if I may ask why would the NFG want to kill Lydia Martin?" Peter asked with interest.

"They weren't trying to kill Lydia Martin, we feel as if they were trying to target Agent Stilinski, and expose the GHOST team. How they learned of us... that'll be figured out. But right now we need to find the shooter and find out for certain if our suspicions are correct."

Peter stayed silent for a while thinking over all the pros and cons. It made sense but at the same time he wasn't even sure if he could find this man. He's a Former British agent gone rouge, and if they couldn't find him well how could he. But he then came to a realization that if someone was out there to expose the GHOST team he could be next, or his family.

"Sir, I want Stilinski in on this."
Morris shook his head, "He's to close to the case." Peter leaned forward in his chair, flipping the file around to show the picture of the man he was going after.
"With all due respect sir, that's exactly why he should be on this mission. Because he's going to be motivated by this, and will be more focused to get it done, no matter the cost."

Stiles sat in his house staring aimlessly out the window. It was thunder storming  outside, and it was as if the weather was his soul. He was soaked as it was though, coming from Lydias funeral they couldn't avoid the rain completely.

He reached over to grab his beer but it was snatched off the table.
"No, I'm not letting you become a drunk," Scott informed him. Stiles groaned and his head tilted backwards  in annoyance.
"Scott give me the damn beer."

"No, You have work tomorrow. Get some sleep."
"I can't," Stiles cried. His head falling into hands he tried to force the pain out. But it rose back up inside him leaving him feeling weak and hopeless.

"It's my fault," he wept.

"Stiles I know this sucks, but you can't blame it on yourself.... it was some nut job that shot up the street."
Stiles shook his head, the sorrow was soon replaced with anger. He shot up turning to Scott grabbing his friends jacket and shoving him to the wall.

"IT WASNT A NUT JOB! IT WAS A HIT MAN SCOTT! AND I WAS THE TARGET!" He screamed tears flowing from his eyes. Scott didn't fight Stiles, only slowly took his hands off of him.

"Stiles why would a hit man want to kill you?" Scott asked confused.
"I-I-I don't know," Stiles lied turning away from
His friend, his eyes laying on a picture of him and Lydia.
Scott sighed, and put his hand on his best friends shoulder.
"Stiles, you know I can tell when you're lying... why was a hitman after you?" Scott asked kindly hoping Stiles would open up.

Stiles continued to stay silent his eyes on the photo. He made up his mind, he was going to find this man and kill him. With the CIAs help or without it. He knew he couldn't tell Scott even though he was his best friend, his brother. In order to protect him he had to separate himself from Scott.
"You should leave," Stiles said lightly not wanting to stir an argument.
"Stiles I'm not leaving you!" Scott exclaimed, "You were there for me when Allison died, and when Kira had to go to the skinwalkers.... please Stiles let me help you..... please."

"I'm going out of town for awhile... gotta clear my head. So I suggest you go back to California open up your shop...... and don't call to check up on me because I won't be there to answer," Stiles said trying to keep his voice from breaking.

"Stiles," Scott started but was silenced by Stiles holding up his hand.
"Scott, get the hell out of my house." Scott didn't understand what was happening with Stiles. But not wishing to anger his friend anymore he slowly left, hoping he would get better.

Stiles stood staring at the picture of Lydia, he didn't know how long, nor did he care. He would do anything to see her again, feel her again, and hear her voice.
Stiles turned his back on the photo and went to leave the room, but standing there was Peter Gardner.

"Sorry I didn't knock, but I was giving you your time to mourn," Peter said.
Stiles sighed annoyed, " What do you want Peter?" A smile appeared on the mans face as he lifted his arm up a file in his hand.
"I'm here with a mission Stiles. What would you say to going across Europe hunting the man that killed your fiancé?"

Stiles eyes lit up and a small smile appeared  on his face.
"When do we start?"