AMCP | Ch 1 | scifipony

Chapter One - Opening Moves

October, 2005
Santa Barbara, California

The lamp cast a soothing yellow circle of light over the desk and surrounding area, leaving the edges of the room in deep shadow.

Leaning over the desk, studying the chessboard in front of him, the man felt completely at rest. And he hated it. Things had been too quiet lately. He craved activity — not the physical kind, but that special kind of mental stimulation that could excite and fascinate him in all the best ways. He needed a new puzzle.

Finger gliding down one of the smooth marble chess pieces, he admired the fine craftsmanship that went into carving it. It was beautiful. As was the rich, polished wood of the board. A very expensive set he'd had personally commissioned.

He continued meticulously arranging the pieces on his side of the board. The white pieces. He preferred playing white. Not because he couldn't win just as easily with black, but having the first move in the game gave him a sense of control, putting him in exactly the right mindset to engage in this favorite pastime.

Maybe that was what he really needed. Not a puzzle. A game.

He finally turned his attention away from the board to study the young man sitting across from him. Hunched down in the leather chair, looking more exhausted and pale than usual. Well, it had been a rough few months.

"I think it's time we started a new game," he announced to his companion. "It's been a while."

Tired hazel eyes came up to meet his, a tiny spark lighting them up for the first time in far too long.

The man smiled. Maybe they'd both been needing this.

He pushed one of his pawns forward. The piece slid smoothly over the polished wood surface, landing in its new square.

Smile widening, he leaned back in his chair and gestured at his opponent.

"Your move."

~~~~~

November, 2005
San Francisco, California

The metal door screeched faintly as it was pushed open. Two figures ducked inside, moving fast in case anyone had time to react to the noise of their entry.

No sound of gunfire met them inside.

Not that they would have expected any. Their opponent already let them clear the ground floor of the warehouse without interfering. He obviously wanted them to come upstairs to the offices where he was waiting. This was all a sick game to him. A game where losing would result in yet another innocent victim.

As the senior agent on this assignment, Carlton Lassiter took lead. His partner, Junior Agent Lucinda Barry, stayed close behind him, keeping an eye on their six.

The warehouse was empty and dark as they crept forward. Dust floated thickly in the few sunbeams that managed to peek through the grime-covered windows. The steady wind outside rattled the building, making enough noise to help cover their footsteps as they worked their way to the staircase.

Carlton placed his foot on the bottom step, easing his weight onto it slowly. So far, so good. No sign of booby-traps. Which didn't ease his mind at all. No traps here merely meant that their opponent was luring them deeper inside before trying to take them out. Or taking out the hostage he'd used to bring them here in the first place. It was impossible to predict this maniac's moves.

They were halfway up the first flight of stairs when Carlton saw the sensor near the floor. An electronic version of a tripwire... And he'd stepped right in its path.

He reacted instinctively. Ducking left, he swung himself over the railing and landed on the catwalk to their left. His gun came up a moment later and fired off two shots, hitting the security camera in the corner. His next shot took out the sensor on the stairs.

A brief moment of silence passed.

They were clear.

It was then that it hit him — he'd had no time to warn Lucinda of the trap before moving. Unless she saw him move and guessed what was going on, there was no chance she got out of the way in time.

Heart sinking into his stomach, Carlton jumped back onto the stairs. The wooden railing was cracked where she went over the side.

"Agent Barry?" he called into his radio, already running back down the stairs.

"I'm over here," came his partner's response, close enough that she didn't bother using the radio.

Carlton reached the bottom of the stairs and came around the bend to a small alcove, partially obscured by the catwalk overhead.

His partner was sprawled on the floor, hands pressed over a wound in her leg. Judging from the amount of blood and the angle of the wound, it was some kind of blade released when he tripped the sensor.

He was on his knees a second later, visually scanning her for other signs of injury as he moved her hands out of the way. Relief filled him as he pressed his own hands over the wound to stem the bleeding. It wasn't deep and hadn't hit anything vital. And, from what he could see, a few bruises were the extent of the damage from the fall. She'd been very lucky.

Not that that knowledge did anything to stop the guilt gnawing at his gut. He should have tried to signal his plan to her before moving. He should have warned her. Should have done something. Instead, he'd seen a chance and taken it.

And the worst part was that it was exactly what he was trained to do. In this line of work, you have to take chances where you see them and trust your partner to adapt as necessary. But Carlton knew he and Lucinda had issues in that area. As much as he cared about her, he knew they were often not on the same wavelength. It was one of the things that kept their relationship exciting. Only now it was the thing that had gotten her hurt.

"I've got it," Lucinda told him, gently pushing his hands away so she could take over applying pressure. "It's fine. I'm fine, Carlton."

He knew that. A week of light duty, and she'd be as good as new.

But I let you get hurt.

"Carlton," her voice cut into his self-recrimination. "The hostage."

Right. The whole purpose for being here. He needed to focus. Needed to stop staring at the blood pooling around her leg. Needed to stop repeatedly cycling the mental image of her falling off that staircase.

"Carlton!"

Finally, he managed to drag his eyes up to meet hers. His breath caught slightly at the amount of understanding and determination in her expression.

"Hey, I'm fine," she repeated. "Go get that twisted psycho and save the hostage."

And she was right, as usual. There was a lot more at stake right now than their relationship — professional or otherwise.

"Alright," he said at last, checking his gun's ammo clip. "Check in with the backup team and let them know to be on standby. There's no telling what he has planned this time."

Lucinda nodded curtly, checking her own weapon as she scooted farther under the overhang. She might not be able to run with her leg in that condition, but she'd easily be able to hear someone coming before they got to her. It was a small consolation. And right now, that was what Carlton needed to be able to leave her here alone.

"I'll be back in twenty. If not, send in backup."

She smiled up at him, giving his hand a farewell squeeze. "Go get him, partner."

He squeezed her hand in return before standing. Not letting himself look back, he tightened his grip on his weapon and started up the stairs again.

Despite being only recently cleared for field duty, Lucinda Barry was a good agent. She knew how to handle herself in a crisis and how to keep a level head. That and the fact that they'd already cleared the bottom floor of hostiles should have been enough to keep him from worrying about her. And yet, he couldn't shake the anxiety coiling through him. Something was wrong with this scenario. He just didn't know what.

And this is exactly why relationships between agents are forbidden, he mentally berated himself. Too easy to get emotionally compromised on a mission.

Forcing his attention back on the current situation, Carlton moved up the stairs much faster this time. He knew there wouldn't be any more traps on the staircase. Their opponent never used the same methods twice. It was pretty much the only consistent rule he had for these sick "games" of his.

The top floor of the building was even more bare than the main warehouse. Empty offices lined either side of the hallway, not even a desk left in any of them.

Carlton cleared each room as he worked his way down to the end of the hall. If they'd deciphered that last riddle correctly, the old manager's office should be where the hostage was being kept. He could only hope they were in time. The body count attributed to this monster was too high already. Carlton was sure they had the correct location, but there was one line of the riddle he hadn't understood — it didn't make sense in context of the hostage they were trying to save. It was a small detail to worry about, but he'd learned a long time ago not to ignore the small details when dealing with this man.

The end of the hallway came too soon. Grip tightening on his gun, Carlton braced himself for whatever he might find inside that office. Taking a deep breath, he kicked the door in and charged inside.
The room was empty.

No serial killer, no hostage, no sign of anyone. Not even any furniture. Only the dust and cobwebs that showed it hadn't been occupied in a very long time.

A single set of footprints in the dust led straight to the far wall and back out the door again. Carlton's eyes locked on that wall as his own feet froze in place.

Bright red letters scrawled across the dirty surface, mocking him as they stared back.

SHE LOOKS SO PRETTY WHEN SHE BLEEDS - Y

Ice settled into his stomach as realization hit.

They had been wrong about the riddle. That line that had bothered him... it was never about the hostage.

Carlton's hand flew to his radio. "Agent Barry, report in."

A staticy burst crackled back at him.

He tried adjusting the frequency. "Agent Barry, I need your status now. This whole thing was a trap."

The static changed slightly in pitch, but no other response came back. The system was being jammed.

Flying down the stairs two at a time, Carlton gave up on the radio and shouted as loud as he could. "Lucinda! Get out of the building now!"

His feet hit the concrete floor with enough force to almost knock him off balance. Taking the barest moment to steady himself, Carlton continued his mad dash for that alcove where he'd last seen his partner.

A pair of familiar shoes poked out from around the bend. The utter lack of movement was enough to confirm his suspicions, but he wasn't ready to accept it yet.

Darting around the bend, Carlton came to a sudden halt at the sight in front of him.

No.

"No, no, no," he muttered, dropping beside his partner.

Ignoring the feel of blood on his hands, he pulled her against him. Two fingers pressed desperately against her pulse point. The weak, stuttering pulse wasn't unexpected, but it only added to the panic buzzing through his head.

"Please, Lucinda," he whispered, brain incapable of formulating any thoughts beyond that. Please don't leave me.

The wheezing breaths slowed even as he was scrambling to retrieve his radio.

"This is Agent Lassiter." To his relief, the signal was no longer blocked. Their opponent had already completed his goal here. "I need backup in here immediately. Call for medical evac."

Whatever response came back through the radio went ignored as he continued to cling to the body in his arms. His eyes landed on the wound in her leg. The one that had prevented her escaping from her killer. The one he'd caused.

The backup team and emergency response personnel were the best SBPD had to offer. They were expertly trained and were capable of adapting under the most unexpected complications. It was less than two minutes before they were swarming all over the building, securing the area and providing assistance where needed.

But they were still two minutes too late.

His partner was gone.

~~~~~

Six months later
May, 2006
San Francisco, California - SBPD Headquarters

"Alright, people, listen up."

From his spot at the back of the room, Carlton smirked at the way the rookies in the room sprang to attention. Chief Karen Vick might be several months pregnant, but she could be more intimidating than any of their agency's worst interrogators.

After the recruits were situated in their seats, Vick cleared her throat and launched into her introduction speech. Carlton had heard it a million times and found himself automatically tuning it out as he shifted to lean against the wall. His eyes scanned over the small crowd instead, interested in the new blood. They looked young and inexperienced, both of which were technically true.

"Firstly, congratulations on passing your field assessment tests," Vick began, taking her spot at the front of the room. "You are all now Level Three operatives with a tentative clearance for field duty — with certain restrictions, of course. If you want to have those restrictions removed and become full-fledged members of this department, you will have to push yourselves a lot harder than you already have up to this point. If you thought the assessments were tough, you might want to back out now, because it's about to get a lot worse."

Carlton's scan of the room came to rest on a young blonde agent frantically scribbling into a notebook. Her eyes kept shooting up to watch Vick attentively before adding more notes.

She looked young and a bit too wholesome for this line of work. Like the rest of the group, her inexperience was painfully obvious to see. She also looked about as dangerous as a newborn kitten. It was the determined set of her jaw and the fire burning in her eyes that convinced Carlton she had a fair shot at making it through this next phase of training. He almost regretted the fact that he couldn't be the one to see her through that training.

"Every employee of the Security Bureau for the Protection and Disbursement of Classified Data — or SBPD — is expected to make certain sacrifices so they can contribute to our mission to the best of their ability," Vick continued.

"However, as members of the Covert Operations Division, you will be expected to go far above and beyond that. Your lives will be at risk every time you're sent into an undercover scenario. You might have to work without backup. You'll need to be quick at improvising and adapting. And you might not make it back safely from every mission. It's a sad reality, but one you have to accept if you want to work here. If you have any doubts, now is the time to think hard about your decision. It's not too late to switch to another of SBPD's divisions."

After taking a brief moment to let that sink in, Vick stepped out of the way of the large digital screen. The lights in the room dimmed to make it more visible as one of the techs turned on the screen. Carlton didn't bother watching it. He already knew it would be showing pictures, video footage, and charts to help illustrate Vick's points as she continued with the briefing. He'd seen it more times than he could count.

"SBPD's main objective is the gathering and protection of intel that could be useful to our sibling agencies. We work in cooperation with a lot of other intelligence organizations, but we also have our fair share of enemies. One of the ones you will encounter most frequently in the field is Vencom."

Carlton glanced only briefly at the picture on the screen of Vencom headquarters. On legal documents, they were a tech corporation. In reality, they were a constant thorn in Carlton's side. He'd worked both with and against Vencom operatives during his many years of service, and had an equal amount of respect and disdain for them. They were good at what they did. They were also completely ruthless.

"Working for Covert Operations, you will be forced into situations with Vencom more than anyone else at this agency. They are also an intelligence gathering organization, but they operate completely in the dark, and have no scruples regarding who they share that information with. While their intel has helped prevent a lot of disasters, it also helped cause more than a fair amount of other issues."

Vick crossed her arms, gaze hardening as she eyed some of the past mission reports being displayed on the screen. Carlton understood what she was feeling in that moment. They'd lost a lot of good agents to Vencom. Too many.

With a quiet sigh, she continued, "Sometimes you'll be asked to work with operatives from Vencom when we have joint operations. Other times, you may be working undercover to infiltrate and stop one of their missions. Either way, never let your guard down around these people."

The meeting continued for several more minutes, but Carlton stopped listening completely by that point. He was bored and restless. He wasn't even entirely sure why Vick had asked him to be here. A year ago, he would have known immediately what it meant. But things had changed, and his days working with the junior agents were over.

He shifted slightly, leaning a bit more against the wall as his leg threatened to fall asleep. The months of mandatory leave hadn't done anything good for his stamina. Maybe it was time to start hitting the gym again. He'd only been back on duty a couple months, and only cleared for field duty last week, but it couldn't hurt to get back into shape. Vick couldn't keep him chained to a desk forever.

"That's all," Vick wrapped up her speech. "You'll begin your final stage of training today, and then we'll be pairing you up with senior agents so you can get some field experience. Good luck."

The lights came back on and the crowd began to disperse. Carlton watched the young recruits filter slowly out of the meeting room. Most looked excited to finally be heading into the home stretch of their training program. Others looked freaked out. A select few had a healthy mix of both — they were the ones Carlton was willing to bet would actually make it through the final testing phase. He wasn't surprised to see the young blonde agent among that last group.

"Agent Lassiter," Vick greeted him politely.

He straightened automatically. Despite knowing the woman for many years, she would always have his respect as his superior officer.

"Chief," he greeted back. "You asked me to come up here this morning?"

"Let's use my office."

It was more of a command than a suggestion, but Carlton nodded his agreement anyway. He let her lead the way back to her office and took a seat in one of the chairs. It didn't escape his notice that Vick closed the blinds on the interior windows before sitting down at her desk. Whatever they were discussing, she didn't want the rest of the department watching them.

"How would you like a chance to get back into the field?" Vick asked as she pulled out a thick casefile. "Think you're ready?"

Carlton barely resisted the urge to respond to that with the level of sarcasm it deserved. Ready? He'd been going absolutely stir crazy for months. Instead, he settled on the somewhat more restrained response, "I was cleared for duty last week, Chief. More than ready to tackle something other than paperwork."

"Good. We have an assignment right here on the West Coast for you. There's a young computer prodigy named Lisa Grant who is speaking at a conference this weekend. Ever heard of her?" At his headshake, she explained, "Miss Grant's father is the CEO of a software development company he started himself. Apparently, that talent runs in the family. Grant has recently developed a new type of program that will help the video game industry considerably."
Carlton raised an eyebrow questioningly. "And why do we care about any of this?"

"Because, part of the code used in the program could also be used as the base for spy software. A more efficient means of hacking into encrypted data. And, if our tech team was able to figure that out, you can bet everyone else in the intelligence circuit has the done the same."

"Vencom," Carlton said. It wasn't a guess. He'd dealt with them enough to know they'd jump at this opportunity.

"Correct. We did a bit of digging and found out that Vencom is hiring an outside contractor to kidnap Grant at the conference."

"And my job is to stop that from happening?"

"It's actually a bit more complicated than that," Vick told him, passing the casefile to him. "As it happens, we picked up their contractor a couple months ago when he attempted to take down one of our own members. A man named Barrows, goes by the codename Badger. They'd already made the preliminary arrangements at that point, and he spilled the whole thing as a bargaining chip."

Vick leaned back in her chair, a soft frown settling over her features. It was a look Carlton recognized quite well. It was the look she got whenever she was being forced into a situation she didn't feel right about. Whatever this mission was, she had her reservations about it. And given his area of expertise here at the agency, Carlton had a pretty good idea what that assignment was.

"You want me to take the place of the contractor," he stated. "To infiltrate their kidnapping attempt and stop it."

"Yes," she confirmed reluctantly. "Working from the inside, you'll know exactly what they're planning and how best to circumvent those plans. According to Barrows, he's never met face to face with anyone from Vencom. The first meeting was supposed to happen at the airport this weekend. Our own agents were able to determine that the Vencom operative in charge of this assignment is Daniel Wayne. He's someone you've never encountered before, correct?"

"Never in person," he clarified. Technically, he'd gone up against the man a few times, but never in a way that would allow Wayne to recognize him. "So, I go in as this Badger, let them tell me exactly how they plan to kidnap the girl, and then stop it before it can happen."

"That would be the ideal scenario, yes. We're hoping this will also lay some groundwork for our own negotiation team. Miss Grant may be willing to help us with developing this software if you can keep her from falling into Vencom's hands. So make as favorable an impression as you can."

Carlton internally groaned. The last thing he needed to be worrying about while working an undercover op was being diplomatic. Saving the target's life should be more than enough; why the need to be friendly on top of that?

"I understand, Chief. When do I leave?"

"We have you booked on a flight out in a few days. You'll spend the time until then preparing for your cover. In that casefile is everything we have on the Badger. They won't know any of that information about him, but it never hurts to have all your bases covered. Also, we don't know which of their field operatives will be assigned to work with you. Since you've rarely worked with their West Coast branch, it shouldn't be a problem, but you might want to be ready in case of trouble."

That wasn't a new situation for him. There was always the danger of getting burned while undercover. Usually you had a partner to pull you back out when that happened, but Carlton had been in enough tight spots that he wasn't overly concerned with the idea of dealing with it alone this time.

He glanced over the files for a moment as the chief gave a few more details on the assignment. It all seemed very straightforward. A little too straightforward, maybe.

Closing the casefile, Carlton locked eyes with the chief. "So, why me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, Chief, you know what I mean. This assignment is a cakewalk. McNabb could do it blindfolded. So why do you need me on this one?"

The chief smiled approvingly. "Good to see those months away haven't dulled your instincts." She reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a few sheets of paper stapled together. "The real reason I'm sending you on this assignment will have to remain strictly off the record. If the Board of Directors knew about this, it would get ugly pretty quick."

"I understand," Carlton agreed, a strange feeling worming its way through him.

Vick gave the papers in her hand a brief glance before passing them across the desk to him. "Have you ever heard of an intelligence group known as Psych?"

"Psych? Sounds like the accounting department's idea of a practical joke."

"I wish. Definitely not a joke, though. They're relatively new to the game."

Carlton raised an eyebrow. "And, by that, you mean we've never heard of them until now."

"Right again. Unfortunately. We actually know almost nothing about them. Only that they're a small group and have been operating under the radar. Possibly for years at this point. The team down in Internal Affairs thought we had a mole at first. Then they uncovered evidence of this Psych group. It appears they have no allegiance. From what we've been able to dig up on them, they seem steal information from all sides equally. Probably to sell to the highest bidder."

"And what does any of this have to do with Lisa Grant?"

"Evidence suggests they're going to make an attempt at Grant as well."

"Oh, perfect," Carlton said, rolling his eyes. "So we've now got three separate agencies after this one person at the same time? That'll be a headache and a half to sort out."

"Well, that's why we're sending in one of our best," she replied, smiling at his frustration.

"You still haven't answered why you chose me for this assignment. Or why the Board would be upset about you telling me this. I'm guessing there's more to this Psych group than what you're saying."

The chief's expression sobered, tone softening just a bit. "Carlton, we think Psych was the group that leaked information about you and Agent Barry being at that warehouse. Given how quickly your opponent cleared out of there, and knew exactly where to find Barry, he had to have been working off intel from within the SBPD. And we were careful with who had the intel on that assignment."

"So, you think Psych hacked in and stole the information, and then leaked it to the kidnapper — this 'Y' maniac — to warn him?"

"Yes. There was evidence found after the fact which leads us to believe they were the ones who stole that information."

Carlton glanced over the pages she'd handed him while turning that over in his mind. There wasn't a lot on the sparse sheets. These Psych operatives were certainly good at hiding their tracks.

His gaze came back up to meet hers. The careful way she was watching him — waiting for his reaction — was all he needed to put back up the mask of indifference he'd been wearing for six months.

"Thank you, Chief," he said, adding the papers to his casefile. He knew how much trouble she could get into over this. The fact that she was willing to help him find closure meant a lot to him.

"One more thing," Vick continued before he had a chance to stand up. She held a file to him across the desk, which he accepted cautiously. "If you're going to be working in the field again, you'll need a new partner."

Carlton stiffened, hands clenching around the file. "I don't think that will be necessary, Chief."

"Well, department protocols state otherwise," Vick responded, tone kinder than she usually used. "I took the liberty of picking out a likely candidate."

At her gesture to go ahead, Carlton reluctantly opened the folder in his hands. The top sheet had a photo clipped to it of the blonde agent he'd spotted in the meeting. His eyes scanned quickly over the most pertinent facts on the cover page.

"Juliet O'Hara," Vick said. "One of our more promising Level Three recruits. She'll be ready for her first field assignment by the end of next week. And since she still needs a senior agent to be paired with—"

"—you thought we'd be a good match," Carlton finished flatly.

"She has good marks in all of her assessment tests so far. I think, with some guidance from a more seasoned agent, she could go far."

Carlton snapped the file shut and dropped it back on Vick's desk. "Chief, I turned in my paperwork on this months ago. I'm not supposed to be assigned any more of the junior agents."

"You used to be the best at training the new recruits. You never gave them the sort of leeway other agents do. It helped keep them on their toes."

"Maybe sometimes they need that extra leeway," Carlton said quietly.

Vick sighed and leaned back in her chair. "It's been six months. I know you and your former partner were... close... but you can't blame yourself for what happened."

"I don't," he shot back, tone hardening. "I blame the monsters who killed her." Standing up from his seat, he added, "And I'm going to make sure they don't get away with it. So, if that's everything..."

Vick eyed him, obviously having a lot more to say on the topic but not wanting to push things right now. "Fine, the decision can wait until you get back from this assignment. Maybe it will help you gain some perspective on all this."

"But, Carlton," she added as he tried to leave the room, "You can't keep working without a partner indefinitely; it's against department protocols. Whether it's one of the junior agents or someone more experienced, you'll need to choose someone. As our Head of Operations, you get more leeway than most in picking a partner — but I'll be forced to take that choice out of your hands if you delay too long."

"I understand, Chief."

With a curt nod, he stepped out of the office.

It wasn't until he was in the safety of his own car, heading for home, that he took a moment to breathe and process everything.

She was right. As annoying as it was, Carlton knew the Board wouldn't sit quietly for long. He'd been hoping for a little more time, though.

He knew every member of Covert Operations rather well. Or, at least, he knew their skillsets and performance records. None of them were the sort of person he could trust to have his back in the field. Or someone he could trust himself to protect, either.

Pulling into his driveway, Carlton shut off the engine and stared at the little house in front of him. It was a nice place with a decent yard and not too far of a drive from work. At the time he purchased it, it had seemed like a worthwhile investment. Now, the tiny two-bedroom place felt much too large.

The door opened smoothly and he deposited his keys on the entry hall table before venturing farther inside. A quick detour through the kitchen to grab a beer, before heading into the living room. Clicking on a lamp, he settled onto the couch to review the casefiles again. Dinner would have to wait. He hadn't been given a lot of time to prep for this assignment.

By the time darkness settled over the empty house, Carlton had thoroughly familiarized himself with the details of his assignment. It really wasn't a difficult op. Barring any unforeseen complications — although he knew there were always unforeseen complications — he should be heading back home by the end of the weekend.

Sliding the last of the case files away, his eyes landed on the last folder in the stack. The one that contained O'Hara's personnel record.

His fist clenched around his beer bottle.

The chief acted as if it was the easiest thing in the world to choose a new partner. It wasn't. Choosing a partner meant picking someone to trust with your life. To trust with your bad days and secrets and personal struggles.

Having a partner meant looking out for each other in a way that no one else could.

He'd thought he had that with Lucinda. That was why he'd kept her on as a partner even after she passed her assessment phase. As one of their junior agents, he knew she still had a lot of areas where she needed improvement. But being able to work together as a team should not have been one of those areas. Especially when taking their personal relationship into account.

His partner had trusted him, and he'd let her down.

Pushing up from the couch, Carlton headed resolutely back to the bedroom to change. He still needed to eat dinner and pack his bags. He had a mission to focus on.

He carefully avoided looking at the stack of cardboard boxes in the corner as he took off his gun, setting it within easy reach. Those boxes that he'd been only partially successful in ignoring for months. The ones that were labeled in marker, with a handwriting much too feminine to be his own.

He finished changing and walked back to the living room, eyes landing on the casefiles as he headed through toward the kitchen. In particular, he took note of that thin file on top — the one containing what little intel they had on Psych.

A new resolve flowed through his veins, replacing the ice that had been nesting there for six months.

For the first time since her death, he had a lead. He had a direction.

And he was finally going to fulfill the promise he'd made at her graveside.

Whoever this Psych group was, they were going to die a far slower death than they'd given his partner.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to contact the author, please visit my tumblr or dreamwidth.

A Man Called Psych

Chapter One - Opening Moves