(on_thecouch) "The jig is up, the news is out, they've finally found me." (Part 1)
(OOC: This is a massive group RP. The line up is: Sam=likely_evil, Deanjstliketherifle, Angell=foundherwings, Flack=det_don_flack, Hawkes=blessyou_jlo. Everyone else was an NPC. For 'verse: Happiness is a Warm Gun )
What are the odds?
Alec made a mental note not to piss off any hookers as the man slumped down in front of him. Dead. Like really, really dead. Hookers apparently knew how to deal out some serious damage when they were afraid.
The problem was that even breaking bone and stabbing someone in some pretty vital places wouldn't save you when a demon was using the body as it's own personal taxi. And this demon was part of the Jack the Ripper fan club. Hell, maybe he was Jack the Ripper. Which would have been creepy even for Alec.
He crouched near the body, scuffing the Trap, and sighed. At least he sent the demon packing. Just one poor civi and four working girls to late for Alec's taste. Now he just had to decide if he wanted to leave a body to identify or torch it and make a clean sweep of things. He yanked on a pair of leather gloves and figured he could at least rifle through the dude's wallet. See if there was any obvious evidence of a worried family left behind somewhere.
They had been tracking this guy for weeks. At first it hadn't been considered all that big a priority, considering it was only one person dead -- granted this was Mac they were talking about, and Mac takes every case seriously -- but it hadn't reached the need to have someone on the streets until the hookers started coming in. Angell had been trying to work with the other girls for a few days now, seeing if she could get any leads, but so far nothing seemed to be coming up. They'd managed to narrow it down to a vague description, and not much else, so Angell was back on the streets again, this time done up in her Marilyn Monroe wig and hooker attire, waiting to see if she could get the guy to take the bait and bring him in for good.
She wasn't close when the exorcism went down, but she heard the scream from where she was sitting on the corner. Granted, it didn't escape her that it was a male scream, rather than a female one, but that didn't matter. Cop instinct kicked in, and she was reaching for the gun holstered to her thigh, making her way towards the source of the scream and calling in for back-up as she went. As she came around the corner, she leveled the gun in front of her, and started to advance towards the guy crouching over the body, needing him to stop whatever the hell he was doing before he disturbed the evidence.
"Freeze! NYPD!"
"Oh maaaaan." It was a moan of annoyance. His head tipped as he cocked an ear. Back up already on the way. If he bolted he risked getting shot. One gun he could managed but four? That got dicey. He held his hands out to the side. Nice an visible. And held still, apparently perfectly comfortable in his crouch.
Angell moved closer to him slowly as the uniforms started to come around the corner, glancing down at the body in front of him as she started to reach for one of his hands gently. That was their guy, more or less. She'd have to wait till Lindsay got there to run the DNA but based on the general description, that was their serial killer. However, finding a guy leaning over the body of a serial killer? Never a good sign. "Want to tell me what happened?" she asked, looking him over for any sign of evidence as she gently gestured for him to stand up straight.
Alec shrugged and let her cuff him, coming to his feet easily. "Found him and I was going to check his wallet." A half truth, but the more truth you could use the better. Alec tipped his head to look at the uniforms and then to her. "Mind showing me your badge? " He wanted to know what sort of cop he was dealing with here. Besides one that had legs that went for here to heaven.
She sighed slightly as she finished cuffing him, before reaching into the front of her top for her badge -- because really, where else are you going to hide it when you're dressed as a hooker. She pulled it out quickly, before flipping it in her hand slightly and holding it out in front of him. She didn't see anything on him that would indicate outright that some kind of foul play had gone down, but she wasn't really sure how the body had died yet, so she was going to reserve judgment on that one. He was still the one on the scene with a dead body. Once she was satisfied that he had seen enough of her badge, she pulled it back before handing him off to one of the uniforms.
"Secure the scene," she ordered as she reached to pull off her wig, shaking her dark hair out as she did. "And call the CSIs. I want the scene processed as soon as possible." Not to say that she wasn't glad the bastard was dead, but the job was the job, and if someone else had killed him, she wanted to who. "And put him in the car -- I want to talk to him down at the precinct." When she wasn't dressed like a hooker and was looking a bit more professional.
Alec sighed. This was going to suck. That poor bastard was going to have to take the guilt of the murders now. Alec was going to be searched and a gun was going to be found on him. Of. The. Suck. He just prayed that they didn't take his jacket which covered his barcode.
"Yo! Angell!" Flack made his way under the newly placed crime scene tape. "What we got?"
Angell saw the look on his face, and gave him the 'you make one comment about my legs and I'll smack you look' before turning back to the body. "I think this is our guy. Guy on the scene said he was checking his wallet, but something doesn't smell right. I want to talk to him myself first."
"Planning on dressing up for the occasion," Flack smirked, and Angell glared before smacking him on the shoulder and making her way back towards the car they were loading Alec into.
"Just wait on Mac. I'm going to start getting him processed."
Alec waited until she was settled. "So, uh, what am I being held for? Massive bad luck?" Jesus Christ. Dean was going to worry. Sam was going to worry. Hell, Alec was worrying. A transgenic surrounded by cops. not a comfy place to be.
"You were found leaning over a body in the middle of a crime scene," she said with a sigh. "If everything checks out, you probably won't be held for long, but we'll need to take sample from you to eliminate whatever you may have disturbed on the scene. Either way, we'll need to collect prints, DNA -- that kind of thing. Easiest place to do that is at the precinct."
"My DNA? 'Cause I didn't touch the dude." He made sure it came of as curious, but his thought process was along the lines of ohshitohsitohshitohsit. . . .
"Maybe not, but you could have dropped a stray hair -- you'd be amazed what these crime scene guys will find on a body. They go over this stuff with a fine tooth comb."
"Huh." Alec tried to remind himself that there was no reason to panic. Just that there was cat in his DNA, and his finger prints didn't exist. Nothing to worry about at all. It wasn't like he'd actually killed the guy. The killing blow had to be days old. Alec had only drop kicked him of a roof breaking his legs. And Alec could escape when ever he wanted. Right? No reason to panic.
"Yup," Angell nodded, before glancing back at him over her shoulder. "You got a name?"
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't most people?" Because if you could amuse yourself from the back of a police car what was the world coming to?
She raised an eyebrow right back at him, before smirking slightly. "Gonna share with the group, or are you gonna make me frisk you for your ID when we get to the precinct?"
"I wouldn't offer in that outfit if I were you. Then again I think we'd all be a little put off if I was in that outfit." He smirked. "Alec."
"Alec," she said with a nod and a bit of a smile. "Got a last name to go with that?" It wasn't that far to the precinct, and she didn't feel like playing twenty questions.
"McDowell." It was the only solid record he had. If he had any chance of getting out of this smooth and simple he hoped they'd find employment history and let things lie."
"Okay," she said with a nod as the car coasted to a stop. "We'll get you booked, and then we'll talk for a while, see where things go from there."
"Wait. Dude, I didn't even do anything wrong. How do you get away with actually arresting me?" His eyes had already skipped to the building. Pulling it apart in his head for way's in and out. Mostly out.
"Okay, not arresting," Angell said with a shrug as she opened the door to the back seat. "But I can hold you for twenty four hours without arresting you, but we are going to search you, and if you want to make it out of here smoothly, I'd volunteer your DNA and prints, rather than making yourself look guilty."
"If I wanted to look guilty I would have run. You know, when you pulled a gun on me." He was still trying to figure out what to do, but he figured he might as well let it play out until he had no choice.
"Still -- every bit of cooperation helps," she said with a small smirk, before handing him off to the uniforms to be searched. "Hold him at my desk when you're done. I'll be right back -- just going to go get changed."
Alec gave the impression of being a cat that had just been shoved into a carrier. Annoyed, but knew there was no point in fighting it. He held still when the pulled his wallet and his jack knife out of his back pocket. The knife shouldn't be a problem. It wasn't illegal, or if it was it was only on a technicality of blade length and legal in the next state over. He watched it carefully though. It was one of his few possessions that he actually cared about and he wanted it back when this was over.
Out of his right hand jacket pocket came his bike keys, an unlabeled bottle of pills with a tissue stuffed in it to keep them from rattling. A paper clip and his cell phone.
Left had a couple of salt packets, a jelly packet, a small coil of large gauge wire, residue from chalk, and three John Wayne can openers.
At the small of his back was a M9A1. And he was going to be pissed when they confiscated it. He'd gone to a lot of trouble to turn up a Marine grade M9 Berreta.
Marlin took the Berreta between his fingers and looked it over for a minute, before looking back at him. "I hope you got a permit for this, dawg, or you ain't gonna see it again." And it'd be a cryin' shame to see that thing get melted down. But he wasn't going to talk about that. He placed it with the rest of Alec's possessions, before taking him and leading him back over to Angell's desk, sitting him down on the chair next to it, before posting himself on the edge of the desk. He didn't think the kid was the type to slip out under their noses, but he knew that if he was wrong and he did? Angell would have his head. And if there was any part of him that he wanted her to have, it wasn't that. It was bad enough she already had his balls nailed to a fucking tree.
Alec wrinkled his nose. "Dude, either hold the gun or take the clip out." He didn't know these people and he didn't want to be the one to blame if someone snagged it off the desk and someone got shot. It was a rule they'd set up in TC. either you held the weapon or it was unloaded. There were babies around and no one wanted them learning gun safety the hard way. It seemed like a good rule to Alec so he carried it with him when he'd left. As to the permit? At one point that ID in his wallet had entitled him to handle ever fire arm the military had.
Marlin arched an eyebrow slightly, before pushing himself up, and moving to go into one of the desk drawers. He pulled out a brown paper evidence bag, and loaded Alec's belongings into it, with the Berreta going in last, after he had separated the clip from the rest of the gun, and sealing the bag on top of that. He then turned back to Alec with a nod. "Feel better?"
He shrugged. "As much as I can. I mean, do you really want an unsecured gun just chillin' on the desk?" He rattled his cuffs. "'Cause I gotta say gun play isn't really part of my sexual fantasy. Then again, cuffs really aren't either so I guess I loose."
At that the uniform laughed, shaking his head slightly. "Hell, man -- don't tell her I said this, but if it was Angell? I'd let her do whatever the hell she wanted to me. Girl'd be worth it, that's for sure."
Flack sauntered his way back into the precinct at this point, looking around and letting his eyes fall on the guy sitting at Angell's desk. He had gotten a look at him earlier, but not a good one. The look he was getting now, though, was triggering that deja vu sense in the back of his head. He knew that face. He'd seen it before. Now it was just a matter of figuring out where.
Alec bit his lip a little considering. "She did kinda have legs that went on forever."
"Exactly," Marlin chuckled. "And well -- maybe it makes me a sad, masochistic man, but she will kick your ass into next week without thinking twice. That's some kind of woman."
Flack continued to watch him for a minute, before it hit him. His eyes went wide and he moved forward, going over to the "Wanted" board on the other end of the room, flipping through the fliers until he found the one he was looking for. He glanced back and forth for a minute, before moving to go find Angell.
Alec blinked at that a little. "It is?" He wasn't even trying to be rude or anything. It just honestly didn't occur to him that a woman in a capable position like law enforcement would be anything but, well, capable.
"Oh yeah," he said, shaking his head. "Then again -- most of the women around here are like that. This is the NYPD." At this point, Marlin was just rambling to fill the time. He didn't have to prove Alec did anything, so as long as they didn't talk about the case, he could pretty much talk about whatever he wanted.
Flack caught up with Angell as she was coming back into the bullpen, looking at her with wide eyes. "Do you know who this guy is?"
Angell frowned, before looking up at him. "What the hell are you talking about, Flack?" He took the flier in his hands and passed it over to her, pointing to the picture of one of the two men on the front.
"That guy look familiar to you?"
Angell studied the picture for a moment, before looking up at "Alec" with wide eyes. "Son of a bitch, that's Dean Winchester."
"Hey, my sister could clean my clock any day of the week." He was content to chat. What the hell else was he going to do?
"Oh, so could mine. But it's hotter when it's coming from someone not of my own blood, ya know what I mean?"
"Now it makes a lot more sense," Flack muttered slightly, turning his back to Alec and keeping his voice low. "The crime scene was basically huge occult symbol, that fits Winchester's M.O. completely."
Angell nodded hesitantly for a minute. "Get a CSI down here to get prints and DNA, and call the FBI. I'll put him in interrogation and see if I can get him to crack."
Alec ponders Max. "Yeah, I can dig that." And Maxie is hot. But no way he'd tap that. He likes his balls.
Angell strode her way over to Alec, flier still in hand, before picking Alec up by the elbow and starting to lead him back towards the interrogation rooms. "If Flack's looking for me, we're in Interrogation Three," she replied to Marlin, before leading Alec away, noticeably more tense than she had been earlier.
"Whoa, whoa." He stumbled along for a couple of steps, taken of guard. "I got feet. I'd like to use them." And he planted himself the way only a cat can, weight more than should be physically possible. And he stayed until he'd gotten his feet under him. "Okay. Now lead the way since clearly you're suddenly pissed at me for something."
Angell waited somewhat patiently for him to get his feet under him, before leading the way back to the interrogation room, placing him in the seat, before closing the door behind them. She then went to take the handcuffs off, slipping them into her back pocket before turning to face him again. "You lied to me. Not that I shouldn't have expected that, given who you are, but still -- you lied. I don't like it when people lie to me, Alec." She paused for a minute, before holding up the flier in front of him as she sat down across from him. "Or should I say Dean. Would it make you more comfortable if we used your real name?"
The flier was your traditional wanted flier, with both Sam and Dean's mugshots on the front of it. They were the mugshots from when they were being held in Folsom, where Dean looked more amused by the situation than Sam was, who just looked downright sullen.
The confusion that crawled across Alec's face was entirely genuine. The head tilt, one eye squinted. "Huh?" Okay, so yeah he knew Dean but she didn't need to know that. And he had never seen the other dude before. Though something about the eyes made him think 'Sam'. But still.
"Oh, c'mon -- don't play dumb with me," she replied, dropping the flier to the table in front of her. "That giant occult symbol we happened to find once we removed the body of your latest victim? Fits your M.O. to a T. You know, Dean -- they've been looking for you for -- what is it, over a year now? You cleverly busted your way out of Folsom, but you should have known we'd track you and your brother down eventually. We always do."
His face hardened at the mention of 'brother'. "Look, Detective Angell? Hate to tell you this but you've chased the wrong cat up the tree. My name is Alec. And my brother's name is Biggs. Also. He was murdered six months ago, so I really doubt you'll be tracking him anywhere." He wasn't pleased and his mind was going in circles. Dean and Sam were to close.
Angell watched him as he spoke, leaning back in her chair as she listened. It felt genuine, which was the part that was confusing her. He hadn't run, he hadn't tried to get away, and he felt like he was telling the truth. This didn't match what she'd read on Dean Winchester when the alert first came out to have an eye out for him. He was supposed to be a smartass, incorrigible. This guy had gotten people killed and he managed to mouth off like it was nobody's business. From all accounts, Dean Winchester was supposed to be a monster. And this kid, from where she was sitting right now? Didn't read monster -- at least not in the sense that she was meaning.
"Look, Alec, if you really are who you say you are, you need to help yourself here. I will have you know that my partner outside is calling the FBI right now. Considering how long Agent Hendrickson has been looking for Dean, he's going to be here relatively quickly." There was a light knock on the door, and Angell pushed herself to her feet, starting to make her way over. "You cooperate with us, and if this really is a complete misunderstanding, we'll have it sorted out in no time, and you'll be free to go."
FBI Fucking Big Idiots. Alec was so fucked. "What a cluster fuck." It was more mumbled than anything. He was caught and caged and the government was coming. and he didn't like it. Even if it was a misunderstanding, he'd get hauled away on something. "Look, Fine. What's the fastest way to get this crap over with." Maybe he could get out before the FBI stuck their noses into places Alec didn't like having noses.
Angell reached over and opened the door to the office, letting Hawkes in behind her. "This is Doctor Hawkes. He's going to take your prints and DNA -- if they don't match what's in the system, we'll know you're telling the truth." Hawkes gave Alec a small smile, before placing his kit down on the table, and pulling out a sterile swab.
"It'll only take a second," he replied.
"And then you let me go?" He took the swab send a prayer up to Bast and stuck it inside his cheek. He knew the drill.
Hawkes arched an eyebrow slightly, more amused than anything else, before taking the swab back from him when he was finished, and capping it to prevent contamination. He then pulled out the paper and ink needed to take his prints.
"If everything checks out, yes," Angell replied with a nod. "We'll cut you loose."
He took the paper and ink and layed out five perfect prints for them. That man had the word doctor attached to his name and Alec was happier with him on the other side of the table. "You want both hands?"
Hawkes shook his head. "Just one is fine -- we can match it to the same hand, if the prints are wrong, the prints are wrong." He took the paper from him, loading up his kit again, before nodding a thank you in Alec's direction and heading out. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
Alec nodded back just a little. He bit his lip and resisted the urge to get up and pace. Like the proverbial tiger in the cage.
Hawkes just slipped out the door again, closing it behind him and heading back over to the lab.
***
A few hours later he returned, moving into the interrogation room with a file in his hand. He had seen Agent Hendrickson standing outside the glass, and based on the conversation that Angell and Alec were having, he seemed to be convinced, just as Hawkes was, that this wasn't the man they were looking for either. However, he was relatively certain that they didn't have the information he had in his hand, and he wanted to see the reaction Alec had for himself, rather than seeing it through Hendrickson.
Angell looked up at him in confusion for a moment, and Hawkes gave her a small smile, before moving to sit in the other chair on that side of the table, placing the file down next to him. "Do you mind if I speak to him alone for a second?"
Angell glanced over at Alec for a moment, before nodding. "I'll be right outside if you need me," she sighed, before getting up and disappearing out the door.
Alec gave Hawkes a nervous look. "You gonna tell me I've got something fatal."
Hawkes chuckled lightly under his breath, before shaking his head. "No, not this time." He paused for a moment, before flipping his file open and speaking as he looked for the right page. "You -- have very interesting DNA." He paused for a moment, before flipping to the results page that isolated the feline parts of his genetic make-up. Sitting on top of the page was a post-it, and written in crisp print: I haven't mentioned this to them. I don't plan to. From what he'd read about what was involved with transgenics, he didn't actively plan on turning one over to the higher authorities. Not unless he deserved it, and he wasn't entirely sure Alec did.
"But that isn't the really interesting part."
Alec looked at the post it and then back up at Hawkes. Some of the fear fading. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck in what could be a nervous gesture, a sheepish one or admitting something. "Most people find that interesting enough."
"Not this time," Hawkes said with a slight smirk. "Now, given the first interesting thought, I'm going to assume you probably didn't know this, but I had to see for myself in order to be sure. You see, Dean Winchester's DNA isn't interesting in quite the same way." He pulled the file back towards him again, starting to flip through the pages again. "So it was clear from the beginning that you are two different people. However, in the process of running the profile, I noticed that your DNA had several loci in common. I took a closer look, and ran what's called a Y-STR test."
He turned the file back around again, showing the results page to Alec again. "I ran it twice, and given certain variables, it's pretty much conclusive -- you and Dean Winchester share the same father."
"You're shitting me." But he was looking. He could read. He could see. ". . ." Alec's jaw just sort of sagged. "Fuck me sideways." Stunned about summed it up.
That was a good reaction. That was the reaction he wanted to see. However, there was a loud knock on the window next to them, to prove that Alec wasn't the only one shocked by the sudden revelation. Hawkes, however, just smirked at the knock on the window and pointed to the side slightly. "And that would be Agent Hendrickson, because I didn't share this with them either." He paused for a moment, before getting to his feet, and starting to make his way towards the door. "I'll be right back -- he's probably going to want to see the results for himself."
He moved away from the table, taking the pages involving the transgenic end of his DNA from the file and tossing and crumpling them in his hand, before opening the door and making his way out of the room again, leaving Alec by himself.
He sat there staring at where those papers had been. The afterimage burned in front of his eyes. He had blood family. Dean and Sam were really his. He had brothers. He had a father. And actual person. He'd known one of his main human donors had been a Marine, but that wasn't that unusual. Holy. Christ.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the glass, Agent Hendrickson was studying the DNA profile in his hand, shaking his head slightly. "Go fucking figure. I should have known there was another crazy ass Winchester out there."
"Doesn't matter," Angell replied, her hands resting on her hips lightly. "He's not the guy we're looking for, and I'm assuming that you ran his DNA against what has come in so far from the body?"
"No matches," Hawkes said with a nod. "Plus, based on the initial coroners report, the victim's core temperature was so low that he had to have been dead for several days. Alec just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. That's all."
Hendrickson just looked up at them with a 'what are you stupid?' look, before shaking his head. "You people really think he doesn't have any idea where Dean Winchester is?" Angell and Hawkes both stared at him blankly, and Hendrickson shook his head before continuing. "Winchesters are crafty sons of bitches, even if it's not in their name. Now Dean's been off the grid for a long time -- and he knows something. I can smell it. So if you all can't manage to find your asses with your hands and do some actual police work, I'll just do it myself."
He handed the file back to Hawkes, before making his way around the corner to the interrogation room. Hawkes and Angell followed him with their eyes, before Hawkes shook his head slightly. "I really don't like that guy."
"You aren't the only one," Angell replied as Hendrickson stepped into the room, slipping off his suit coat and placing it on the back of one of the chairs.
Alec dragged his eyes up off the table to look the new man over. Shock still evident in his face. He didn't say anything. And one hand trembled a little. He wondered if he could get some one to give him his pills.
"My name," he said slowly, adjusting his jacket slightly, as he smoothed it out over the chair. "Is Special Agent Victor Hendrickson. And I believe, Alec, that we have a mutual friend in common. And I do use the term friend loosely here."
Alec didn't like him. It was instant and animalistic. If he'd had fur it would have puffed. "We do?" Because if so Alec needed to change his social circle.
"Yes, we do." Hendrickson didn't sit, he just looked over at him, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "His name is Dean Winchester. Now, I'll believe a lot of things, Alec -- but I don't believe for a second that you have no idea who he is -- no idea that you two were blood relatives, maybe -- but c'mon a face like that? I bet you two know each other real well. Sam, too. However, in the midst of knowing them real well, I'm gonna bet you don't know the monster that you're dealing with here. Would you like me to -- enlighten you?"
"Uh. . . no. I'd kinda just like to go really." He wanted to go desperately. He wanted to call Bobby and have him tell Dean and Sam - his brothers - His god damned brothers to get out and they could meet up again some where else. He wanted his pills and his knife and gun. He wanted to not be sharing a room with this ass.
"Really? Don't want to know at all?" Hendrickson frowned, leaning back slightly as he did. "You know, it's funny. If I found out I just had family that I didn't know about, I think I'd want to know everything about them. I'd want to know exactly what I was getting myself into."
"Look, first of all I'm not 'getting myself into' anything. Because I can't decide what genes I have so I'm not getting into anything thing, because it's not like I chose this." He gave the man a dry look. "Secondly you aren't going to tell me all about them. You're just going to tell me the worst shit you know and the worst you can think of. So if all I'm going to get is a skewed picture I'd really rather not get one that's going to make me want to hork on your shoes." The man's attempt to intimidate by looming was failing pretty badly.
Hendrickson took that, digested it, and nodded slowly as he moved to sit down in the chair in front of him. "Maybe that's true, and maybe that's not. But let me tell you something about this brother of yours, Alec. I looked in his eyes. I've confronted him with his crimes, and I've seen how he reacts to them. And there isn't one iota of remorse for the three lives that were lost. His first victim? Was tortured to death. Tied to a chair as he cut her limb from limb." He paused for a minute, before lacing his fingers in front of him. "I also know for a fact that you know where he is. You know where to find him, and even more than that -- you mean something to him. Which means when you don't come back from wherever it was you were supposed to be doing in that back alley, Dean's gonna come looking like the good big brother he is. And finally -- I can still hold you for twenty-four hours considering you're still a suspect for a murder all your own." He paused for a minute, letting that sink in, before pushing himself up again. "Hope you're comfortable in that chair -- cuz you're gonna be sitting there for a long time."
Alec looked him dead in the eye and stood up heading to the window were he knocked on it to get Angell's attention.
Angell smirked, slightly, before making her way around the window to the door, pushing it open, and sticking her head in. "You rang?"
"Yeah. He's gonna hold me for the twenty four hours. Which I guess is fine. Boring but fine. But he's also kinda fuckwit who doesn't have very good English comprehension skills. Because when I said I didn't want to know what Dean Winchester had done he proceeded to tell me some of it anyway. So now I've got a nice mental image I really could have lived the rest of my life without. So if I have to stay that's fine. But I don't want to be in a room alone with him ever again. And could I have my meds. They were in my jacket pocket earlier."
"Hey, Marlin," she shouted back into the bullpen, keeping her body halfway in the door. "Can you get me the personal effects for the guy we brought in earlier?" There was a nod of confirmation from the uniform, and she made her way the rest of the way into the room, sitting down in the other chair opposite Alec, crossing her legs in front of her as she watched Hendrickson. "You don't have a problem with that, do you?"
Hendrickson looked at her for a moment, before rolling his eye slightly. "Not at all."
"Thanks." He shrugged a little. "Doesn't even have to be you if you've got stuff to do." He had already figured that a lot of Hendrickson's game relied on being able to say what ever he wanted and the intimidating way he delivered it. No way the man could do that with some one else in the room. And as for waiting Alec could take that. He knew he could. His hand shook again so he tucked it into his pocket.
"Nope," she shook her head. "I'm not busy at all."
Marlin opened the door to the room a few minutes later with the paper bag from earlier, handing it over to Angell before disappearing from the room again. She opened it slowly, fishing through the belongs until she found the pill bottle, and slid them gently across the table to him. She then resealed the bag and placed it on the other side of her, away from Hendrickson. He didn't need to see the contents. That would only put fuel on the fire -- especially with the Berreta.
Alec pulled his hand out of his pocket and took the bottle. He opened it, pulled out the tissue and then gratefully dry swallowed two pills. After he stuffed the tissue back in, put the lid on and set it down on the table. "So. . .I gotta ask. Why a wig?"
Hendrickson looked confused and Angell just shook her head. "I go undercover a lot. Much easier if I don't look like me."
"Valid point. You can do some amazing shit with make-up to." Though he's not sure she's really the make up type. He's decide he'll just act like Hendrickson isn't there.
"Yeah, well -- the guy had a type. We figured blond might be the way to go," she shrugged. She was good with the ignoring Hendrickson. Feds tended to piss her off.
"So I really did stumble on to an actual criminal, not just a really ugly mugging? Dude, I'd ask if my luck could get worse but it seems like tempting fate." He tapped his fingers against the table, but it was piano rather than the normal guy finger-drums.
"Serial killer, actually," Angell replied, watching his fingers carefully, before a soft buzzing started to echo in the room. Hendrickson froze for a minute, before glancing over at Angell.
"Detective, I believe your evidence bag is vibrating."
Alec reaches out for it without thinking and then stops himself. "Can I just turn it off?" The question is directed at Angell.
"Absolutely not," Hendrickson said with violent head shake. "That could be Winchester trying to make contact."
Angell glanced over at the bag for a moment, then between the two men in the room. "Or it could be his booty call trying to set up a date for tonight -- you don't know that either way."
Hendrickson scowled slightly, shaking his head. "He doesn't touch that phone. If it's a booty call -- they'll just leave a message."
He shrugged. "Suite yourself, dude. We can listed to it vibrate. I'm chill with it." Because Hendrickson was most likely, right. But from their stand point Angell could also be right and he wanted people to think her way. So ring it would.
Angell rolled her eyes slightly, before leaning back in the seat again. She had a feeling that they were going to be here for a long time.
"So . . .anyone know how to play gin rummy?"
Angell glanced over at him, before flashing him a small smile. "Yeah, but I haven't played since I was a kid. And that would require a deck of cards."
"Could we get one? Or, hell, we can improvise a chess or checker board if you've got a pen and some change."
Angell shook her head, before reaching for her own phone, sending off a quick text message. "I know someone who might have something."
"Sweet." His phone had finally stopped it's jittering, but he didn't figure it would be long before it started again. He wished he could have a phone call, but that would have set Hendrickson off and he could demand one as his right as he hadn't been arrested.
There was a few minutes, before Flack poked his head in the door and tossed the deck of cards into the room, Angell catching them in one hand, before sliding them over to him. "You deal."
He pulled them out of the box and shuffled them with a little bit of absent minded flair, but nothing ridiculous. "You actually want to play gin rummy or did you have another game you'd prefer?" He was a little disappointed that it was an old deck. His memory would have him counting and tracking the cards three hands in. But he'd enjoy while he could.
Angell shrugged. "I'm good for pretty much anything."
"Gin rummy it is." And he dealt out the cards and set the deck down between them. "So how'd you get tagged for hooker duty? Or was it you legs? 'Cause I gotta say they're pretty nice." He was a simple compliment. She had nice legs, and yeah he might like to go there, but he knew it wasn't going to happen so there was no point in hitting on or flirting with her.
She laughed slightly as she collected the cards, looking over her hand. "It was originally my case, and since it's not like I haven't done the Vice work before, they decided I'd be the easiest person to pull in on this. Plus, I already had a good idea of how the guy operated -- I didn't want a rookie getting tripped up because he did something she didn't expect."
"Always working girls?" Mostly he was just curious as to what she would tell him and to simply make conversation.
She shook her head. "I've done a couple narcotics buys, random people sitting on the street. It depends on what's needed and how busy the other undercovers are."
Alec had always thought undercover cops had a certain almost smell about them. He and the other transgenics were never fooled. But maybe, to some degree, it took one to know one? He'd done undercover work to. "I guess it would be a change of pace. Though I bet it's friggin cold sometimes."
"Back when I was on Vice I had to go out in full out hooker boots in the snow," she rolled her eyes. "One of the worst days I've ever worked. The heels had to be at least six inches."
It was a moment before the evidence bag started vibrating again, and Angell only moved her eyes long enough from the cards to look at it, before going back to what she was doing.
Alec's own eyes cut over to the bag and he made a sour face but other than that let it go. What was he going to do about? "Jesus. I have respect for anyone that can walk in those things."
"It's not easy," she replied, shaking her head. "Especially when you're trying to trek through snow and ice."
"I can honestly say," He grinned at her, "That I've never tried it." He really wished his phone would stop vibrating.
Angell laughed slightly, before continuing to play through the hand. Hendrickson just watched, annoyed and stubborn, waiting for a chance to come up where he could either get a look at Alec's phone or have a reason to hold him for longer than twenty-four hours.
"So how much longer is your shift?" She was great company but he knew she wouldn't last for twenty four hours.
She glanced down at her watch, before shrugging. "I was technically supposed to be off a couple hours ago, but my next shift starts soon enough -- overtime."
"We may want to get some take out or something. And you can trade me off with someone else if you want. I wont like be offended or anything stupid like that." He looked over his cards, drew and discarded.
She shrugged. "And miss this nail-biter of a card game? Never."
He smirked. "Who don't you trust? Me or Mr. Cranky-Pants over there in the corner?"
"Neither of you," Angell replied honestly. "Though I will say I like you more than I like him." Like, however, does not equal trust.
"Seems reasonable to me." He exchanges another card. "Though I'm kinda serious about the food thing. No offense, but I don't feel like fasting for twenty four hours just because I have the unfortunate luck of being related to a psycho." Which was the God's honest truth. He just meant a different psycho from the one they did.
"We could probably work something out," Angell nodded. "Everyone's gotta go for food sometime."
"Know any places around here that make a good milkshake?" He drew another card and then grinned and layed his hand down. "Round one to me."
Angell smirked slightly, before starting to scoop the cards up as she thought. "Milkshakes. You'd have to ask Flack -- he's the food expert."
"Hey, I'd be happy to, but I'm a little stuck." He looked up at Hendrickson, "Unless you've gotten bored and feel like letting me go?"
Hendrickson looked up at him with a 'you gotta be kidding me' look, before shaking his head. "Not a chance."
"Yeah, didn't think so. You suck a little. Just sayin'." He waited for Angell to deal. "Flack another detective?"
"Yup," she nodded as she started to deal between them. "Guy who brought in the cards."
"Thin dude for being the food expert. Must have one hell of a fast metablism."
"I swear I don't know where he puts it all," Angell said, pausing slightly. "Although, on this job, he does do a lot of running."
"I didn't think detectives did a lot of running. I thought it was your job to sort things out after the running was over."
"The CSIs don't," Angell sighed. "But us plainclothes? We run all over creation. The guilty ones always take off like a rocket."
Alec snorted. "Maybe I should have tried it. Being innocent doesn't seem to have done me any favors." It isn't really directed at her.
"Sometimes that's the way things work out," she said. "And I'd like to say on behalf of the NYPD? We're very sorry to have inconvenienced you like that."
"I'm cool with you guys. Forgiving soul or something deep and heartwarmng like that." He smirked.
"We appreciate you're understanding," she smirked back.
"No problem." He plays his turn then puts his cards face down. "Okay, I'm gonna go stir crazy in here. How about I get a trip to the bathroom and then we think about feeding my poor starving self? Maybe some coffee."
Angell nodded, before putting down her cards as well and getting to her feet. "C'mon. I'll have Marlin walk you over, while I go dig out the take-out menus."
"Awesome." He stood and cat stretched. Then pointed to his bag, reminding her to grab it.
She snatched up the bag in her hands, before gesturing for him to lead the way out of the room.
And off they go. Alec took in his serounding with a keen eye. If he wanted to be gone from here now would be his chance. And he could do it to. He knew he could. But Hawkes of all people made him want to not cut and run. Every person that would take the side of a transgenic was a person that Alec didn't want to betray. All help was good help. So he walked where Angell directed.
She handed him off to Marlin and pointing him in the direction of the bathroom. Marlin gave him a smirk before nodding for him to follow him. "How's it going in there?"
"Like shit dude. Detective Angel is fine, but that Hendrickson guy?" He's expression summed his feeling up pretty well. "He's holding me for the full twenty four." Alec's eyes rolled into the next state.
"Yeah, well -- feds are douches, everyone around here knows that."
"Ugh. I don't know what he things he's gonna get out of me."
"Probably nothing. But look at it this way, dude. You get to hang out with the legs that go to heaven for twenty four hours."
"So true. Though it's not like I can see her legs now. Which is a shame." Get to the bathroom and goes about his business with the utter lack of shame of a kid that grew up with communal everything.
Marlin just smirked. "She likes you well enough. If she didn't, she would have smacked you upside the head by now."
"Why do females thing that will change anything? I used to get that all the time." He washes his hands and doesn't bother with paper towels, just wipes his hands dry on his jeans.
"I don't think that's what they think," Marlin shook his head. "I think they just do that to make 'em feel better."
"Males make their heads hurt so they return the favor?" He left the bathroom but was content to lean out the wall outside. He wasn't really going to volunteer to be trapped in a small room with a fed.
"Something like that," Marlin replied, before starting to nod back in the direction of the interrogation room. "Know that's the last place you wanna be, but if we take longer with this than we have to, Fed might think you've run off on me. Don't feel like being on the other end of a lecture."
Alec made a displeased noise. "He's such a friggin ass hat." But he went.
"That he is, man. That he is."
Right outside the door he paused. "I've seen trench warfare that's more appealing." Another pause. "Okay, so that's a lie, but still. You get the idea." He opened the door on his own, because seriously, at least he could retain some dignity if he manned up about it.
Hendrickson's back was to the door when Alec opened it, reading over the piece of paper in front of him while he had the chance. Hawkes had had enough common sense to remove the post-it, but he really hadn't thought about Hendrickson being sneaky enough to go trash diving. He'd read enough DNA work-ups to know exactly what information the doctor had held back from the rest of the group, and while he wasn't sure how or why, he was relatively certain that Hawkes' supervisor was going to be hearing about it later.
After he got what he wanted out of Alec.
He didn't acknowledge the person at the door right away, just continued to study the paper, and tried to think of who at the NSA would be the fastest to call.
When Alec saw that he'd beated Angell back he stepped into the room anyway but turned to Marlin. "Mind staying until Detective Angell gets back?"
"Not at all," Marlin said with a nod, before stepping inside and closing the door behind them.
"Awesome. Thanks." he circled farther into the room and sat on the table. He finally gave Hendrickson a hooded look and tensed when he saw what the man had. How could he have been so stupid. He had good enough control over his body that he was fairly such no one saw his tensing. He pretended he'd seen nothing, not sure how to deal with this. If he was lucky the fed didn't know how to read the damned print out. "Sadly though, I am most likely no more exciting that what you were doing before you got to baby sit me."
Marlin just shrugged before leaning back against the wall slightly. Better than waiting to get yelled at for goofing off or sent out on a run. Hendrickson however, just smirked over at Alec slightly before moving to sit down in the chair again, slightly more relaxed than he was before.
Oh. . .that so wasn't good for Alec. Not effing good at all. Alec raised a challenging eyebrow at the man. Fuck it. In for a penny and all that.
Hendrickson just raised an eyebrow back. "You know what they say about interrogations like this -- it's all about the leverage." He placed the crumpled piece of paper down on the table and started to smooth it out slightly. "Finding the exact piece of information to give you the pivot point you need and get you where you want to go."
"Yeah. They say that." He reached out picked up the paper and carefully folded it before tucking it away in his jacket pocket. "I know how these things work. You think you've got me pinned?" He's tone was cool and smooth. He kicked his feet back and forth like a little boy. Doing things smooth, legal and easy wasn't going to happen. But Hendrickson couldn't hold him with out putting a bullet into him. And maybe not even then.
"Maybe I do, maybe I don't. But I'll tell you want I do know. I can make a phone call to the NSA so fast your head would spin, and then where would you be? You think you're protecting Dean, kid, but you're not. You know how many people he's sold out and left to the dogs in order to keep him and Sam safe? You'd just be another name on the list." Hendrickson leaned forward, hands out on the table slightly. "I want to help you, Alec. I do."
"You call one of those fuckers from No Such Agency and I'm gone." he leaned back on his hands. "What are you going to do to help me. Immunity? Freedom? A social security number? My rank and privilage back? An animal rights activist? What?"
"I'm not a miracle worker," Hendrickson said with a nod. "But I can make sure you walk out of here in one piece. Whether or not you take that is up to you."
"I can do that on my own." Because did Hendrickson really think this place could hold him? "I didn't do anything wrong so if you keep your mouth shut, no harm, no foul. Because, see, we can't cut much of a deal for info that I don't know. Just because I'm apparently related to the dude doesn't mean I know shit about him. You gotta admit, it's not like we grew up together."
"No, but I still say you know something," Hendrickson said, before crossing his arms in front of his chest. "And until you do, I think you're gonna be staying right where you are. You may be fast, but there's one of you and lots of us." He was about to continue when there was a knock on the window. He met it with a glare, before pushing himself up and turning back to Marlin. "Stay with him." With that, he disappeared out the door and around the corner.
(Part 2)
Muse: Alec McDowell/X5-494
'Verse: Happiness is a Warm Gun.
Fandom: Dark Angel
Word count: 15,614 all told
What are the odds?
Alec made a mental note not to piss off any hookers as the man slumped down in front of him. Dead. Like really, really dead. Hookers apparently knew how to deal out some serious damage when they were afraid.
The problem was that even breaking bone and stabbing someone in some pretty vital places wouldn't save you when a demon was using the body as it's own personal taxi. And this demon was part of the Jack the Ripper fan club. Hell, maybe he was Jack the Ripper. Which would have been creepy even for Alec.
He crouched near the body, scuffing the Trap, and sighed. At least he sent the demon packing. Just one poor civi and four working girls to late for Alec's taste. Now he just had to decide if he wanted to leave a body to identify or torch it and make a clean sweep of things. He yanked on a pair of leather gloves and figured he could at least rifle through the dude's wallet. See if there was any obvious evidence of a worried family left behind somewhere.
They had been tracking this guy for weeks. At first it hadn't been considered all that big a priority, considering it was only one person dead -- granted this was Mac they were talking about, and Mac takes every case seriously -- but it hadn't reached the need to have someone on the streets until the hookers started coming in. Angell had been trying to work with the other girls for a few days now, seeing if she could get any leads, but so far nothing seemed to be coming up. They'd managed to narrow it down to a vague description, and not much else, so Angell was back on the streets again, this time done up in her Marilyn Monroe wig and hooker attire, waiting to see if she could get the guy to take the bait and bring him in for good.
She wasn't close when the exorcism went down, but she heard the scream from where she was sitting on the corner. Granted, it didn't escape her that it was a male scream, rather than a female one, but that didn't matter. Cop instinct kicked in, and she was reaching for the gun holstered to her thigh, making her way towards the source of the scream and calling in for back-up as she went. As she came around the corner, she leveled the gun in front of her, and started to advance towards the guy crouching over the body, needing him to stop whatever the hell he was doing before he disturbed the evidence.
"Freeze! NYPD!"
"Oh maaaaan." It was a moan of annoyance. His head tipped as he cocked an ear. Back up already on the way. If he bolted he risked getting shot. One gun he could managed but four? That got dicey. He held his hands out to the side. Nice an visible. And held still, apparently perfectly comfortable in his crouch.
Angell moved closer to him slowly as the uniforms started to come around the corner, glancing down at the body in front of him as she started to reach for one of his hands gently. That was their guy, more or less. She'd have to wait till Lindsay got there to run the DNA but based on the general description, that was their serial killer. However, finding a guy leaning over the body of a serial killer? Never a good sign. "Want to tell me what happened?" she asked, looking him over for any sign of evidence as she gently gestured for him to stand up straight.
Alec shrugged and let her cuff him, coming to his feet easily. "Found him and I was going to check his wallet." A half truth, but the more truth you could use the better. Alec tipped his head to look at the uniforms and then to her. "Mind showing me your badge? " He wanted to know what sort of cop he was dealing with here. Besides one that had legs that went for here to heaven.
She sighed slightly as she finished cuffing him, before reaching into the front of her top for her badge -- because really, where else are you going to hide it when you're dressed as a hooker. She pulled it out quickly, before flipping it in her hand slightly and holding it out in front of him. She didn't see anything on him that would indicate outright that some kind of foul play had gone down, but she wasn't really sure how the body had died yet, so she was going to reserve judgment on that one. He was still the one on the scene with a dead body. Once she was satisfied that he had seen enough of her badge, she pulled it back before handing him off to one of the uniforms.
"Secure the scene," she ordered as she reached to pull off her wig, shaking her dark hair out as she did. "And call the CSIs. I want the scene processed as soon as possible." Not to say that she wasn't glad the bastard was dead, but the job was the job, and if someone else had killed him, she wanted to who. "And put him in the car -- I want to talk to him down at the precinct." When she wasn't dressed like a hooker and was looking a bit more professional.
Alec sighed. This was going to suck. That poor bastard was going to have to take the guilt of the murders now. Alec was going to be searched and a gun was going to be found on him. Of. The. Suck. He just prayed that they didn't take his jacket which covered his barcode.
"Yo! Angell!" Flack made his way under the newly placed crime scene tape. "What we got?"
Angell saw the look on his face, and gave him the 'you make one comment about my legs and I'll smack you look' before turning back to the body. "I think this is our guy. Guy on the scene said he was checking his wallet, but something doesn't smell right. I want to talk to him myself first."
"Planning on dressing up for the occasion," Flack smirked, and Angell glared before smacking him on the shoulder and making her way back towards the car they were loading Alec into.
"Just wait on Mac. I'm going to start getting him processed."
Alec waited until she was settled. "So, uh, what am I being held for? Massive bad luck?" Jesus Christ. Dean was going to worry. Sam was going to worry. Hell, Alec was worrying. A transgenic surrounded by cops. not a comfy place to be.
"You were found leaning over a body in the middle of a crime scene," she said with a sigh. "If everything checks out, you probably won't be held for long, but we'll need to take sample from you to eliminate whatever you may have disturbed on the scene. Either way, we'll need to collect prints, DNA -- that kind of thing. Easiest place to do that is at the precinct."
"My DNA? 'Cause I didn't touch the dude." He made sure it came of as curious, but his thought process was along the lines of ohshitohsitohshitohsit. . . .
"Maybe not, but you could have dropped a stray hair -- you'd be amazed what these crime scene guys will find on a body. They go over this stuff with a fine tooth comb."
"Huh." Alec tried to remind himself that there was no reason to panic. Just that there was cat in his DNA, and his finger prints didn't exist. Nothing to worry about at all. It wasn't like he'd actually killed the guy. The killing blow had to be days old. Alec had only drop kicked him of a roof breaking his legs. And Alec could escape when ever he wanted. Right? No reason to panic.
"Yup," Angell nodded, before glancing back at him over her shoulder. "You got a name?"
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't most people?" Because if you could amuse yourself from the back of a police car what was the world coming to?
She raised an eyebrow right back at him, before smirking slightly. "Gonna share with the group, or are you gonna make me frisk you for your ID when we get to the precinct?"
"I wouldn't offer in that outfit if I were you. Then again I think we'd all be a little put off if I was in that outfit." He smirked. "Alec."
"Alec," she said with a nod and a bit of a smile. "Got a last name to go with that?" It wasn't that far to the precinct, and she didn't feel like playing twenty questions.
"McDowell." It was the only solid record he had. If he had any chance of getting out of this smooth and simple he hoped they'd find employment history and let things lie."
"Okay," she said with a nod as the car coasted to a stop. "We'll get you booked, and then we'll talk for a while, see where things go from there."
"Wait. Dude, I didn't even do anything wrong. How do you get away with actually arresting me?" His eyes had already skipped to the building. Pulling it apart in his head for way's in and out. Mostly out.
"Okay, not arresting," Angell said with a shrug as she opened the door to the back seat. "But I can hold you for twenty four hours without arresting you, but we are going to search you, and if you want to make it out of here smoothly, I'd volunteer your DNA and prints, rather than making yourself look guilty."
"If I wanted to look guilty I would have run. You know, when you pulled a gun on me." He was still trying to figure out what to do, but he figured he might as well let it play out until he had no choice.
"Still -- every bit of cooperation helps," she said with a small smirk, before handing him off to the uniforms to be searched. "Hold him at my desk when you're done. I'll be right back -- just going to go get changed."
Alec gave the impression of being a cat that had just been shoved into a carrier. Annoyed, but knew there was no point in fighting it. He held still when the pulled his wallet and his jack knife out of his back pocket. The knife shouldn't be a problem. It wasn't illegal, or if it was it was only on a technicality of blade length and legal in the next state over. He watched it carefully though. It was one of his few possessions that he actually cared about and he wanted it back when this was over.
Out of his right hand jacket pocket came his bike keys, an unlabeled bottle of pills with a tissue stuffed in it to keep them from rattling. A paper clip and his cell phone.
Left had a couple of salt packets, a jelly packet, a small coil of large gauge wire, residue from chalk, and three John Wayne can openers.
At the small of his back was a M9A1. And he was going to be pissed when they confiscated it. He'd gone to a lot of trouble to turn up a Marine grade M9 Berreta.
Marlin took the Berreta between his fingers and looked it over for a minute, before looking back at him. "I hope you got a permit for this, dawg, or you ain't gonna see it again." And it'd be a cryin' shame to see that thing get melted down. But he wasn't going to talk about that. He placed it with the rest of Alec's possessions, before taking him and leading him back over to Angell's desk, sitting him down on the chair next to it, before posting himself on the edge of the desk. He didn't think the kid was the type to slip out under their noses, but he knew that if he was wrong and he did? Angell would have his head. And if there was any part of him that he wanted her to have, it wasn't that. It was bad enough she already had his balls nailed to a fucking tree.
Alec wrinkled his nose. "Dude, either hold the gun or take the clip out." He didn't know these people and he didn't want to be the one to blame if someone snagged it off the desk and someone got shot. It was a rule they'd set up in TC. either you held the weapon or it was unloaded. There were babies around and no one wanted them learning gun safety the hard way. It seemed like a good rule to Alec so he carried it with him when he'd left. As to the permit? At one point that ID in his wallet had entitled him to handle ever fire arm the military had.
Marlin arched an eyebrow slightly, before pushing himself up, and moving to go into one of the desk drawers. He pulled out a brown paper evidence bag, and loaded Alec's belongings into it, with the Berreta going in last, after he had separated the clip from the rest of the gun, and sealing the bag on top of that. He then turned back to Alec with a nod. "Feel better?"
He shrugged. "As much as I can. I mean, do you really want an unsecured gun just chillin' on the desk?" He rattled his cuffs. "'Cause I gotta say gun play isn't really part of my sexual fantasy. Then again, cuffs really aren't either so I guess I loose."
At that the uniform laughed, shaking his head slightly. "Hell, man -- don't tell her I said this, but if it was Angell? I'd let her do whatever the hell she wanted to me. Girl'd be worth it, that's for sure."
Flack sauntered his way back into the precinct at this point, looking around and letting his eyes fall on the guy sitting at Angell's desk. He had gotten a look at him earlier, but not a good one. The look he was getting now, though, was triggering that deja vu sense in the back of his head. He knew that face. He'd seen it before. Now it was just a matter of figuring out where.
Alec bit his lip a little considering. "She did kinda have legs that went on forever."
"Exactly," Marlin chuckled. "And well -- maybe it makes me a sad, masochistic man, but she will kick your ass into next week without thinking twice. That's some kind of woman."
Flack continued to watch him for a minute, before it hit him. His eyes went wide and he moved forward, going over to the "Wanted" board on the other end of the room, flipping through the fliers until he found the one he was looking for. He glanced back and forth for a minute, before moving to go find Angell.
Alec blinked at that a little. "It is?" He wasn't even trying to be rude or anything. It just honestly didn't occur to him that a woman in a capable position like law enforcement would be anything but, well, capable.
"Oh yeah," he said, shaking his head. "Then again -- most of the women around here are like that. This is the NYPD." At this point, Marlin was just rambling to fill the time. He didn't have to prove Alec did anything, so as long as they didn't talk about the case, he could pretty much talk about whatever he wanted.
Flack caught up with Angell as she was coming back into the bullpen, looking at her with wide eyes. "Do you know who this guy is?"
Angell frowned, before looking up at him. "What the hell are you talking about, Flack?" He took the flier in his hands and passed it over to her, pointing to the picture of one of the two men on the front.
"That guy look familiar to you?"
Angell studied the picture for a moment, before looking up at "Alec" with wide eyes. "Son of a bitch, that's Dean Winchester."
"Hey, my sister could clean my clock any day of the week." He was content to chat. What the hell else was he going to do?
"Oh, so could mine. But it's hotter when it's coming from someone not of my own blood, ya know what I mean?"
"Now it makes a lot more sense," Flack muttered slightly, turning his back to Alec and keeping his voice low. "The crime scene was basically huge occult symbol, that fits Winchester's M.O. completely."
Angell nodded hesitantly for a minute. "Get a CSI down here to get prints and DNA, and call the FBI. I'll put him in interrogation and see if I can get him to crack."
Alec ponders Max. "Yeah, I can dig that." And Maxie is hot. But no way he'd tap that. He likes his balls.
Angell strode her way over to Alec, flier still in hand, before picking Alec up by the elbow and starting to lead him back towards the interrogation rooms. "If Flack's looking for me, we're in Interrogation Three," she replied to Marlin, before leading Alec away, noticeably more tense than she had been earlier.
"Whoa, whoa." He stumbled along for a couple of steps, taken of guard. "I got feet. I'd like to use them." And he planted himself the way only a cat can, weight more than should be physically possible. And he stayed until he'd gotten his feet under him. "Okay. Now lead the way since clearly you're suddenly pissed at me for something."
Angell waited somewhat patiently for him to get his feet under him, before leading the way back to the interrogation room, placing him in the seat, before closing the door behind them. She then went to take the handcuffs off, slipping them into her back pocket before turning to face him again. "You lied to me. Not that I shouldn't have expected that, given who you are, but still -- you lied. I don't like it when people lie to me, Alec." She paused for a minute, before holding up the flier in front of him as she sat down across from him. "Or should I say Dean. Would it make you more comfortable if we used your real name?"
The flier was your traditional wanted flier, with both Sam and Dean's mugshots on the front of it. They were the mugshots from when they were being held in Folsom, where Dean looked more amused by the situation than Sam was, who just looked downright sullen.
The confusion that crawled across Alec's face was entirely genuine. The head tilt, one eye squinted. "Huh?" Okay, so yeah he knew Dean but she didn't need to know that. And he had never seen the other dude before. Though something about the eyes made him think 'Sam'. But still.
"Oh, c'mon -- don't play dumb with me," she replied, dropping the flier to the table in front of her. "That giant occult symbol we happened to find once we removed the body of your latest victim? Fits your M.O. to a T. You know, Dean -- they've been looking for you for -- what is it, over a year now? You cleverly busted your way out of Folsom, but you should have known we'd track you and your brother down eventually. We always do."
His face hardened at the mention of 'brother'. "Look, Detective Angell? Hate to tell you this but you've chased the wrong cat up the tree. My name is Alec. And my brother's name is Biggs. Also. He was murdered six months ago, so I really doubt you'll be tracking him anywhere." He wasn't pleased and his mind was going in circles. Dean and Sam were to close.
Angell watched him as he spoke, leaning back in her chair as she listened. It felt genuine, which was the part that was confusing her. He hadn't run, he hadn't tried to get away, and he felt like he was telling the truth. This didn't match what she'd read on Dean Winchester when the alert first came out to have an eye out for him. He was supposed to be a smartass, incorrigible. This guy had gotten people killed and he managed to mouth off like it was nobody's business. From all accounts, Dean Winchester was supposed to be a monster. And this kid, from where she was sitting right now? Didn't read monster -- at least not in the sense that she was meaning.
"Look, Alec, if you really are who you say you are, you need to help yourself here. I will have you know that my partner outside is calling the FBI right now. Considering how long Agent Hendrickson has been looking for Dean, he's going to be here relatively quickly." There was a light knock on the door, and Angell pushed herself to her feet, starting to make her way over. "You cooperate with us, and if this really is a complete misunderstanding, we'll have it sorted out in no time, and you'll be free to go."
FBI Fucking Big Idiots. Alec was so fucked. "What a cluster fuck." It was more mumbled than anything. He was caught and caged and the government was coming. and he didn't like it. Even if it was a misunderstanding, he'd get hauled away on something. "Look, Fine. What's the fastest way to get this crap over with." Maybe he could get out before the FBI stuck their noses into places Alec didn't like having noses.
Angell reached over and opened the door to the office, letting Hawkes in behind her. "This is Doctor Hawkes. He's going to take your prints and DNA -- if they don't match what's in the system, we'll know you're telling the truth." Hawkes gave Alec a small smile, before placing his kit down on the table, and pulling out a sterile swab.
"It'll only take a second," he replied.
"And then you let me go?" He took the swab send a prayer up to Bast and stuck it inside his cheek. He knew the drill.
Hawkes arched an eyebrow slightly, more amused than anything else, before taking the swab back from him when he was finished, and capping it to prevent contamination. He then pulled out the paper and ink needed to take his prints.
"If everything checks out, yes," Angell replied with a nod. "We'll cut you loose."
He took the paper and ink and layed out five perfect prints for them. That man had the word doctor attached to his name and Alec was happier with him on the other side of the table. "You want both hands?"
Hawkes shook his head. "Just one is fine -- we can match it to the same hand, if the prints are wrong, the prints are wrong." He took the paper from him, loading up his kit again, before nodding a thank you in Alec's direction and heading out. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
Alec nodded back just a little. He bit his lip and resisted the urge to get up and pace. Like the proverbial tiger in the cage.
Hawkes just slipped out the door again, closing it behind him and heading back over to the lab.
***
A few hours later he returned, moving into the interrogation room with a file in his hand. He had seen Agent Hendrickson standing outside the glass, and based on the conversation that Angell and Alec were having, he seemed to be convinced, just as Hawkes was, that this wasn't the man they were looking for either. However, he was relatively certain that they didn't have the information he had in his hand, and he wanted to see the reaction Alec had for himself, rather than seeing it through Hendrickson.
Angell looked up at him in confusion for a moment, and Hawkes gave her a small smile, before moving to sit in the other chair on that side of the table, placing the file down next to him. "Do you mind if I speak to him alone for a second?"
Angell glanced over at Alec for a moment, before nodding. "I'll be right outside if you need me," she sighed, before getting up and disappearing out the door.
Alec gave Hawkes a nervous look. "You gonna tell me I've got something fatal."
Hawkes chuckled lightly under his breath, before shaking his head. "No, not this time." He paused for a moment, before flipping his file open and speaking as he looked for the right page. "You -- have very interesting DNA." He paused for a moment, before flipping to the results page that isolated the feline parts of his genetic make-up. Sitting on top of the page was a post-it, and written in crisp print: I haven't mentioned this to them. I don't plan to. From what he'd read about what was involved with transgenics, he didn't actively plan on turning one over to the higher authorities. Not unless he deserved it, and he wasn't entirely sure Alec did.
"But that isn't the really interesting part."
Alec looked at the post it and then back up at Hawkes. Some of the fear fading. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck in what could be a nervous gesture, a sheepish one or admitting something. "Most people find that interesting enough."
"Not this time," Hawkes said with a slight smirk. "Now, given the first interesting thought, I'm going to assume you probably didn't know this, but I had to see for myself in order to be sure. You see, Dean Winchester's DNA isn't interesting in quite the same way." He pulled the file back towards him again, starting to flip through the pages again. "So it was clear from the beginning that you are two different people. However, in the process of running the profile, I noticed that your DNA had several loci in common. I took a closer look, and ran what's called a Y-STR test."
He turned the file back around again, showing the results page to Alec again. "I ran it twice, and given certain variables, it's pretty much conclusive -- you and Dean Winchester share the same father."
"You're shitting me." But he was looking. He could read. He could see. ". . ." Alec's jaw just sort of sagged. "Fuck me sideways." Stunned about summed it up.
That was a good reaction. That was the reaction he wanted to see. However, there was a loud knock on the window next to them, to prove that Alec wasn't the only one shocked by the sudden revelation. Hawkes, however, just smirked at the knock on the window and pointed to the side slightly. "And that would be Agent Hendrickson, because I didn't share this with them either." He paused for a moment, before getting to his feet, and starting to make his way towards the door. "I'll be right back -- he's probably going to want to see the results for himself."
He moved away from the table, taking the pages involving the transgenic end of his DNA from the file and tossing and crumpling them in his hand, before opening the door and making his way out of the room again, leaving Alec by himself.
He sat there staring at where those papers had been. The afterimage burned in front of his eyes. He had blood family. Dean and Sam were really his. He had brothers. He had a father. And actual person. He'd known one of his main human donors had been a Marine, but that wasn't that unusual. Holy. Christ.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the glass, Agent Hendrickson was studying the DNA profile in his hand, shaking his head slightly. "Go fucking figure. I should have known there was another crazy ass Winchester out there."
"Doesn't matter," Angell replied, her hands resting on her hips lightly. "He's not the guy we're looking for, and I'm assuming that you ran his DNA against what has come in so far from the body?"
"No matches," Hawkes said with a nod. "Plus, based on the initial coroners report, the victim's core temperature was so low that he had to have been dead for several days. Alec just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. That's all."
Hendrickson just looked up at them with a 'what are you stupid?' look, before shaking his head. "You people really think he doesn't have any idea where Dean Winchester is?" Angell and Hawkes both stared at him blankly, and Hendrickson shook his head before continuing. "Winchesters are crafty sons of bitches, even if it's not in their name. Now Dean's been off the grid for a long time -- and he knows something. I can smell it. So if you all can't manage to find your asses with your hands and do some actual police work, I'll just do it myself."
He handed the file back to Hawkes, before making his way around the corner to the interrogation room. Hawkes and Angell followed him with their eyes, before Hawkes shook his head slightly. "I really don't like that guy."
"You aren't the only one," Angell replied as Hendrickson stepped into the room, slipping off his suit coat and placing it on the back of one of the chairs.
Alec dragged his eyes up off the table to look the new man over. Shock still evident in his face. He didn't say anything. And one hand trembled a little. He wondered if he could get some one to give him his pills.
"My name," he said slowly, adjusting his jacket slightly, as he smoothed it out over the chair. "Is Special Agent Victor Hendrickson. And I believe, Alec, that we have a mutual friend in common. And I do use the term friend loosely here."
Alec didn't like him. It was instant and animalistic. If he'd had fur it would have puffed. "We do?" Because if so Alec needed to change his social circle.
"Yes, we do." Hendrickson didn't sit, he just looked over at him, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "His name is Dean Winchester. Now, I'll believe a lot of things, Alec -- but I don't believe for a second that you have no idea who he is -- no idea that you two were blood relatives, maybe -- but c'mon a face like that? I bet you two know each other real well. Sam, too. However, in the midst of knowing them real well, I'm gonna bet you don't know the monster that you're dealing with here. Would you like me to -- enlighten you?"
"Uh. . . no. I'd kinda just like to go really." He wanted to go desperately. He wanted to call Bobby and have him tell Dean and Sam - his brothers - His god damned brothers to get out and they could meet up again some where else. He wanted his pills and his knife and gun. He wanted to not be sharing a room with this ass.
"Really? Don't want to know at all?" Hendrickson frowned, leaning back slightly as he did. "You know, it's funny. If I found out I just had family that I didn't know about, I think I'd want to know everything about them. I'd want to know exactly what I was getting myself into."
"Look, first of all I'm not 'getting myself into' anything. Because I can't decide what genes I have so I'm not getting into anything thing, because it's not like I chose this." He gave the man a dry look. "Secondly you aren't going to tell me all about them. You're just going to tell me the worst shit you know and the worst you can think of. So if all I'm going to get is a skewed picture I'd really rather not get one that's going to make me want to hork on your shoes." The man's attempt to intimidate by looming was failing pretty badly.
Hendrickson took that, digested it, and nodded slowly as he moved to sit down in the chair in front of him. "Maybe that's true, and maybe that's not. But let me tell you something about this brother of yours, Alec. I looked in his eyes. I've confronted him with his crimes, and I've seen how he reacts to them. And there isn't one iota of remorse for the three lives that were lost. His first victim? Was tortured to death. Tied to a chair as he cut her limb from limb." He paused for a minute, before lacing his fingers in front of him. "I also know for a fact that you know where he is. You know where to find him, and even more than that -- you mean something to him. Which means when you don't come back from wherever it was you were supposed to be doing in that back alley, Dean's gonna come looking like the good big brother he is. And finally -- I can still hold you for twenty-four hours considering you're still a suspect for a murder all your own." He paused for a minute, letting that sink in, before pushing himself up again. "Hope you're comfortable in that chair -- cuz you're gonna be sitting there for a long time."
Alec looked him dead in the eye and stood up heading to the window were he knocked on it to get Angell's attention.
Angell smirked, slightly, before making her way around the window to the door, pushing it open, and sticking her head in. "You rang?"
"Yeah. He's gonna hold me for the twenty four hours. Which I guess is fine. Boring but fine. But he's also kinda fuckwit who doesn't have very good English comprehension skills. Because when I said I didn't want to know what Dean Winchester had done he proceeded to tell me some of it anyway. So now I've got a nice mental image I really could have lived the rest of my life without. So if I have to stay that's fine. But I don't want to be in a room alone with him ever again. And could I have my meds. They were in my jacket pocket earlier."
"Hey, Marlin," she shouted back into the bullpen, keeping her body halfway in the door. "Can you get me the personal effects for the guy we brought in earlier?" There was a nod of confirmation from the uniform, and she made her way the rest of the way into the room, sitting down in the other chair opposite Alec, crossing her legs in front of her as she watched Hendrickson. "You don't have a problem with that, do you?"
Hendrickson looked at her for a moment, before rolling his eye slightly. "Not at all."
"Thanks." He shrugged a little. "Doesn't even have to be you if you've got stuff to do." He had already figured that a lot of Hendrickson's game relied on being able to say what ever he wanted and the intimidating way he delivered it. No way the man could do that with some one else in the room. And as for waiting Alec could take that. He knew he could. His hand shook again so he tucked it into his pocket.
"Nope," she shook her head. "I'm not busy at all."
Marlin opened the door to the room a few minutes later with the paper bag from earlier, handing it over to Angell before disappearing from the room again. She opened it slowly, fishing through the belongs until she found the pill bottle, and slid them gently across the table to him. She then resealed the bag and placed it on the other side of her, away from Hendrickson. He didn't need to see the contents. That would only put fuel on the fire -- especially with the Berreta.
Alec pulled his hand out of his pocket and took the bottle. He opened it, pulled out the tissue and then gratefully dry swallowed two pills. After he stuffed the tissue back in, put the lid on and set it down on the table. "So. . .I gotta ask. Why a wig?"
Hendrickson looked confused and Angell just shook her head. "I go undercover a lot. Much easier if I don't look like me."
"Valid point. You can do some amazing shit with make-up to." Though he's not sure she's really the make up type. He's decide he'll just act like Hendrickson isn't there.
"Yeah, well -- the guy had a type. We figured blond might be the way to go," she shrugged. She was good with the ignoring Hendrickson. Feds tended to piss her off.
"So I really did stumble on to an actual criminal, not just a really ugly mugging? Dude, I'd ask if my luck could get worse but it seems like tempting fate." He tapped his fingers against the table, but it was piano rather than the normal guy finger-drums.
"Serial killer, actually," Angell replied, watching his fingers carefully, before a soft buzzing started to echo in the room. Hendrickson froze for a minute, before glancing over at Angell.
"Detective, I believe your evidence bag is vibrating."
Alec reaches out for it without thinking and then stops himself. "Can I just turn it off?" The question is directed at Angell.
"Absolutely not," Hendrickson said with violent head shake. "That could be Winchester trying to make contact."
Angell glanced over at the bag for a moment, then between the two men in the room. "Or it could be his booty call trying to set up a date for tonight -- you don't know that either way."
Hendrickson scowled slightly, shaking his head. "He doesn't touch that phone. If it's a booty call -- they'll just leave a message."
He shrugged. "Suite yourself, dude. We can listed to it vibrate. I'm chill with it." Because Hendrickson was most likely, right. But from their stand point Angell could also be right and he wanted people to think her way. So ring it would.
Angell rolled her eyes slightly, before leaning back in the seat again. She had a feeling that they were going to be here for a long time.
"So . . .anyone know how to play gin rummy?"
Angell glanced over at him, before flashing him a small smile. "Yeah, but I haven't played since I was a kid. And that would require a deck of cards."
"Could we get one? Or, hell, we can improvise a chess or checker board if you've got a pen and some change."
Angell shook her head, before reaching for her own phone, sending off a quick text message. "I know someone who might have something."
"Sweet." His phone had finally stopped it's jittering, but he didn't figure it would be long before it started again. He wished he could have a phone call, but that would have set Hendrickson off and he could demand one as his right as he hadn't been arrested.
There was a few minutes, before Flack poked his head in the door and tossed the deck of cards into the room, Angell catching them in one hand, before sliding them over to him. "You deal."
He pulled them out of the box and shuffled them with a little bit of absent minded flair, but nothing ridiculous. "You actually want to play gin rummy or did you have another game you'd prefer?" He was a little disappointed that it was an old deck. His memory would have him counting and tracking the cards three hands in. But he'd enjoy while he could.
Angell shrugged. "I'm good for pretty much anything."
"Gin rummy it is." And he dealt out the cards and set the deck down between them. "So how'd you get tagged for hooker duty? Or was it you legs? 'Cause I gotta say they're pretty nice." He was a simple compliment. She had nice legs, and yeah he might like to go there, but he knew it wasn't going to happen so there was no point in hitting on or flirting with her.
She laughed slightly as she collected the cards, looking over her hand. "It was originally my case, and since it's not like I haven't done the Vice work before, they decided I'd be the easiest person to pull in on this. Plus, I already had a good idea of how the guy operated -- I didn't want a rookie getting tripped up because he did something she didn't expect."
"Always working girls?" Mostly he was just curious as to what she would tell him and to simply make conversation.
She shook her head. "I've done a couple narcotics buys, random people sitting on the street. It depends on what's needed and how busy the other undercovers are."
Alec had always thought undercover cops had a certain almost smell about them. He and the other transgenics were never fooled. But maybe, to some degree, it took one to know one? He'd done undercover work to. "I guess it would be a change of pace. Though I bet it's friggin cold sometimes."
"Back when I was on Vice I had to go out in full out hooker boots in the snow," she rolled her eyes. "One of the worst days I've ever worked. The heels had to be at least six inches."
It was a moment before the evidence bag started vibrating again, and Angell only moved her eyes long enough from the cards to look at it, before going back to what she was doing.
Alec's own eyes cut over to the bag and he made a sour face but other than that let it go. What was he going to do about? "Jesus. I have respect for anyone that can walk in those things."
"It's not easy," she replied, shaking her head. "Especially when you're trying to trek through snow and ice."
"I can honestly say," He grinned at her, "That I've never tried it." He really wished his phone would stop vibrating.
Angell laughed slightly, before continuing to play through the hand. Hendrickson just watched, annoyed and stubborn, waiting for a chance to come up where he could either get a look at Alec's phone or have a reason to hold him for longer than twenty-four hours.
"So how much longer is your shift?" She was great company but he knew she wouldn't last for twenty four hours.
She glanced down at her watch, before shrugging. "I was technically supposed to be off a couple hours ago, but my next shift starts soon enough -- overtime."
"We may want to get some take out or something. And you can trade me off with someone else if you want. I wont like be offended or anything stupid like that." He looked over his cards, drew and discarded.
She shrugged. "And miss this nail-biter of a card game? Never."
He smirked. "Who don't you trust? Me or Mr. Cranky-Pants over there in the corner?"
"Neither of you," Angell replied honestly. "Though I will say I like you more than I like him." Like, however, does not equal trust.
"Seems reasonable to me." He exchanges another card. "Though I'm kinda serious about the food thing. No offense, but I don't feel like fasting for twenty four hours just because I have the unfortunate luck of being related to a psycho." Which was the God's honest truth. He just meant a different psycho from the one they did.
"We could probably work something out," Angell nodded. "Everyone's gotta go for food sometime."
"Know any places around here that make a good milkshake?" He drew another card and then grinned and layed his hand down. "Round one to me."
Angell smirked slightly, before starting to scoop the cards up as she thought. "Milkshakes. You'd have to ask Flack -- he's the food expert."
"Hey, I'd be happy to, but I'm a little stuck." He looked up at Hendrickson, "Unless you've gotten bored and feel like letting me go?"
Hendrickson looked up at him with a 'you gotta be kidding me' look, before shaking his head. "Not a chance."
"Yeah, didn't think so. You suck a little. Just sayin'." He waited for Angell to deal. "Flack another detective?"
"Yup," she nodded as she started to deal between them. "Guy who brought in the cards."
"Thin dude for being the food expert. Must have one hell of a fast metablism."
"I swear I don't know where he puts it all," Angell said, pausing slightly. "Although, on this job, he does do a lot of running."
"I didn't think detectives did a lot of running. I thought it was your job to sort things out after the running was over."
"The CSIs don't," Angell sighed. "But us plainclothes? We run all over creation. The guilty ones always take off like a rocket."
Alec snorted. "Maybe I should have tried it. Being innocent doesn't seem to have done me any favors." It isn't really directed at her.
"Sometimes that's the way things work out," she said. "And I'd like to say on behalf of the NYPD? We're very sorry to have inconvenienced you like that."
"I'm cool with you guys. Forgiving soul or something deep and heartwarmng like that." He smirked.
"We appreciate you're understanding," she smirked back.
"No problem." He plays his turn then puts his cards face down. "Okay, I'm gonna go stir crazy in here. How about I get a trip to the bathroom and then we think about feeding my poor starving self? Maybe some coffee."
Angell nodded, before putting down her cards as well and getting to her feet. "C'mon. I'll have Marlin walk you over, while I go dig out the take-out menus."
"Awesome." He stood and cat stretched. Then pointed to his bag, reminding her to grab it.
She snatched up the bag in her hands, before gesturing for him to lead the way out of the room.
And off they go. Alec took in his serounding with a keen eye. If he wanted to be gone from here now would be his chance. And he could do it to. He knew he could. But Hawkes of all people made him want to not cut and run. Every person that would take the side of a transgenic was a person that Alec didn't want to betray. All help was good help. So he walked where Angell directed.
She handed him off to Marlin and pointing him in the direction of the bathroom. Marlin gave him a smirk before nodding for him to follow him. "How's it going in there?"
"Like shit dude. Detective Angel is fine, but that Hendrickson guy?" He's expression summed his feeling up pretty well. "He's holding me for the full twenty four." Alec's eyes rolled into the next state.
"Yeah, well -- feds are douches, everyone around here knows that."
"Ugh. I don't know what he things he's gonna get out of me."
"Probably nothing. But look at it this way, dude. You get to hang out with the legs that go to heaven for twenty four hours."
"So true. Though it's not like I can see her legs now. Which is a shame." Get to the bathroom and goes about his business with the utter lack of shame of a kid that grew up with communal everything.
Marlin just smirked. "She likes you well enough. If she didn't, she would have smacked you upside the head by now."
"Why do females thing that will change anything? I used to get that all the time." He washes his hands and doesn't bother with paper towels, just wipes his hands dry on his jeans.
"I don't think that's what they think," Marlin shook his head. "I think they just do that to make 'em feel better."
"Males make their heads hurt so they return the favor?" He left the bathroom but was content to lean out the wall outside. He wasn't really going to volunteer to be trapped in a small room with a fed.
"Something like that," Marlin replied, before starting to nod back in the direction of the interrogation room. "Know that's the last place you wanna be, but if we take longer with this than we have to, Fed might think you've run off on me. Don't feel like being on the other end of a lecture."
Alec made a displeased noise. "He's such a friggin ass hat." But he went.
"That he is, man. That he is."
Right outside the door he paused. "I've seen trench warfare that's more appealing." Another pause. "Okay, so that's a lie, but still. You get the idea." He opened the door on his own, because seriously, at least he could retain some dignity if he manned up about it.
Hendrickson's back was to the door when Alec opened it, reading over the piece of paper in front of him while he had the chance. Hawkes had had enough common sense to remove the post-it, but he really hadn't thought about Hendrickson being sneaky enough to go trash diving. He'd read enough DNA work-ups to know exactly what information the doctor had held back from the rest of the group, and while he wasn't sure how or why, he was relatively certain that Hawkes' supervisor was going to be hearing about it later.
After he got what he wanted out of Alec.
He didn't acknowledge the person at the door right away, just continued to study the paper, and tried to think of who at the NSA would be the fastest to call.
When Alec saw that he'd beated Angell back he stepped into the room anyway but turned to Marlin. "Mind staying until Detective Angell gets back?"
"Not at all," Marlin said with a nod, before stepping inside and closing the door behind them.
"Awesome. Thanks." he circled farther into the room and sat on the table. He finally gave Hendrickson a hooded look and tensed when he saw what the man had. How could he have been so stupid. He had good enough control over his body that he was fairly such no one saw his tensing. He pretended he'd seen nothing, not sure how to deal with this. If he was lucky the fed didn't know how to read the damned print out. "Sadly though, I am most likely no more exciting that what you were doing before you got to baby sit me."
Marlin just shrugged before leaning back against the wall slightly. Better than waiting to get yelled at for goofing off or sent out on a run. Hendrickson however, just smirked over at Alec slightly before moving to sit down in the chair again, slightly more relaxed than he was before.
Oh. . .that so wasn't good for Alec. Not effing good at all. Alec raised a challenging eyebrow at the man. Fuck it. In for a penny and all that.
Hendrickson just raised an eyebrow back. "You know what they say about interrogations like this -- it's all about the leverage." He placed the crumpled piece of paper down on the table and started to smooth it out slightly. "Finding the exact piece of information to give you the pivot point you need and get you where you want to go."
"Yeah. They say that." He reached out picked up the paper and carefully folded it before tucking it away in his jacket pocket. "I know how these things work. You think you've got me pinned?" He's tone was cool and smooth. He kicked his feet back and forth like a little boy. Doing things smooth, legal and easy wasn't going to happen. But Hendrickson couldn't hold him with out putting a bullet into him. And maybe not even then.
"Maybe I do, maybe I don't. But I'll tell you want I do know. I can make a phone call to the NSA so fast your head would spin, and then where would you be? You think you're protecting Dean, kid, but you're not. You know how many people he's sold out and left to the dogs in order to keep him and Sam safe? You'd just be another name on the list." Hendrickson leaned forward, hands out on the table slightly. "I want to help you, Alec. I do."
"You call one of those fuckers from No Such Agency and I'm gone." he leaned back on his hands. "What are you going to do to help me. Immunity? Freedom? A social security number? My rank and privilage back? An animal rights activist? What?"
"I'm not a miracle worker," Hendrickson said with a nod. "But I can make sure you walk out of here in one piece. Whether or not you take that is up to you."
"I can do that on my own." Because did Hendrickson really think this place could hold him? "I didn't do anything wrong so if you keep your mouth shut, no harm, no foul. Because, see, we can't cut much of a deal for info that I don't know. Just because I'm apparently related to the dude doesn't mean I know shit about him. You gotta admit, it's not like we grew up together."
"No, but I still say you know something," Hendrickson said, before crossing his arms in front of his chest. "And until you do, I think you're gonna be staying right where you are. You may be fast, but there's one of you and lots of us." He was about to continue when there was a knock on the window. He met it with a glare, before pushing himself up and turning back to Marlin. "Stay with him." With that, he disappeared out the door and around the corner.
(Part 2)
Muse: Alec McDowell/X5-494
'Verse: Happiness is a Warm Gun.
Fandom: Dark Angel
Word count: 15,614 all told