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It was true, Caesar did have a lot of questions. The video left him with more. Much of what his daughter said in her recording could have been easily sussed out by the older man; it seemed obvious that there was a conspiracy going on, obvious that the conspirators were acting upon their own authority and that the corrupt allowed them to do so. The very same people would press their advantage against any who tried to set things right. Make an example out of said person, publicly if possible, and call it justice. A sick irony, considering the name of the city. Thinking about it, that was rather the point, wasn't it? Justice and Irony.

Alicia got in too deep with these people, way too deep to get herself back out. She could have told her Papi what was going on. It wouldn't have been the first time Caesar would have to face overwhelming odds and have to kill just a whole fucking lot of people. Maybe this time he would have to be a touch more selective, at least until he knew exactly where he needed to lay the blade. But the prospect galled him. He didn't do that "subtlety" crap very well. He kills. It's what he did, when backed into a corner. Or paid well. Or if someone was suicidal enough to mess with his family. You know, when he wasn't running a legitimate business.

The last part of Alicia's message was, in more ways than one, cryptic. "Go home and pay your respect to the dead." Home could have meant many things. San Antonio was home for a long while after Caesar moved to the United States. It was where his M'hija was born and where she did a lot of her growing up. Chattanooga, TN could be considered home, too; it was where they built his company, and remains the main office of MSS. But none of his family died there.

But there was the family crypt in Monterray, Nuevo León. It housed the bones of the Gonzalez family going back for generations. One day, it would be his resting place. Very soon, it would be his daughter's. Alicia wanted him to check out the crypt? Fine. As it turns out, his plans had him going that way, anyway.

Caesar looked over to Cecily, who was obviously keen on getting out ASAP and getting her shoulder tended to by a medical professional. Couldn't blame her. If this is all that Alicia had to say, it was high time that he got to moving as well. He began a cursory search of the area, checking to see if he had missed anything. When satisfied, he began to walk back to the end of the hideout, the area with lowered lighting in the back. Maybe there was a switch on the wall or something similar. While making his way back, he spoke aloud to Cecily.

"Oye, Niña... We're getting out of here soon, ok? Hey, have you ever been to Mexico?"

Getting her out of town for a few days might not be a bad idea, either.

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"Pleasure's on Yours Truly, Miss..ah, Admiral McCormick, ma'am." He noted the lack of familiar courtesy, owing it to the difference in station of the two of them. At least, that's what he would say if asked. Keystone turned his head slightly, just enough to infer that his next words were directed at Ms. Queensguard and not the Admiral in front of him. "Got our standards set up, ma'am. Eyes 'n' ears on ya til you find a quiet spot."

He moved his line of sight back to their guest. His accent, generally with a massive amount of East London charm, was somewhat more subdued at that moment. Subdued, but still noticable. "Host security's at your disposal, Admiral. Just go runnin' your needs through me direct, if'n something comes up." He took a step back and moved to his people at the wings. "Keep the detail on Ms. Queensguard." he ordered in quiet tones. "And keep your ears on at all times, yeah?"

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Cecily was taken aback for a moment. She understood Alicia's message--there was something important that Caesar needed to see at wherever the Gonzalez family crypt was. And from Caesar's question, she could only assume that it was located in Mexico. She had been called Roy's partner earlier that week, and that had been a shock...but was she Caesar's partner now? For a brief moment, Cecily pondered if instead of going back to school after quitting her job, she might be able to ask Caesar for one.

"Once. Family vacation after my parents got some kingpin off scot free," Cecily replied, rolling her eyes slightly at her parents. They were lawyers. Of course they were going to act like scum, enjoying winning cases even when no justice was served. Come to think of it, they probably loved Justice for that very reason--criminals were hardly ever punished. They'd make a killing here.

Of course, getting out of Justice seemed to be a pretty good idea. If Caesar wanted her to come with him to Mexico, she wouldn't argue. Maybe she'd stop by Barnes and Noble, pick up a Spanish phrase book. Assuming, of course, she didn't die of lead poisoning or some other ailment first. As Cecily started walking towards Caesar, as he began to head out, she spotted a map.

"This looks useful, eh?" Cecily pointed out, fishing down the map of Justice. It didn't look like any map she had carefully studied before, instead showing sewer routes. And from their previous journey into the compound via a storm drain tunnel, she wouldn't be surprised if the way out was similar. Cecily continued to follow Caesar towards the darkly lit portion of the room, only for the door to be locked, and ask for a retinal scan.

"I'm guessing it wants you to scan your eyes," Cecily commented, glancing at the flashing area. It wouldn't make much sense to her if Alicia allowed her father to go inside, and then not be able to get out. Unless, of course, she secretly hated him--but Cecily highly doubted that from what she'd seen.

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As Cynthia spun around gleefully, Iris grew more and more curious as to what traumatized this poor woman to such an extent. She was a firm believer that insanity was never a pre-existing conditions--that it was a response to one's surroundings. Of course, genetics could aid in the process, and perhaps it was naive of Iris to think as she did, but she still couldn't help but imagine Cynthia--Valentine--had suffered some great tragedy for her mind to be so warped. The Ludwig Building, Iris realized sadly, was not quite the appropriate treatment facility for her.

But Iris resolved to do her best. "That's wonderful, it's always good to have some friends to talk to," Iris replied, smiling at the girl. Her heart broke for her as Cynthia mentioned a dead friend, David. And as the girl began to spiral out of control, wading into a deep pit of death and despair, Iris' heart broke for Cynthia again. "I don't think you're crazy. It's perfectly normal to feel upset after friends die, Valentine. We all have to grieve in our own ways."

But it's all happening again? What other horrors had Cynthia suffered through, beyond the death of a close friend? From her words, Iris took it that this wasn't the girl's first brush with death. She had gone through some horrors prior to this one, complicating her process of grieving, of healing. Perhaps this David's death had caused her to regress, explaining why she was so far gone for a halfway house patient.

"If you want to talk about it, I'm here for you," Iris said. "But if you'd like some time alone, I understand perfectly, and you can go get settled in your room for a while." She didn't want to pressure the broken girl. Too many people made that mistake with the damaged, expecting them to pop right back up and shake it off. Time was the greatest medicine that Iris could use. Time for Cynthia to think, to grieve, to mourn, and to heal.

He reached over and admired the firearms with curiosity, remembering some misadventures during the last trilogy he published. Having to deal with the darker side of the streets, firearms were destructive to most places. gunshots were hard to describe untl you got into the harsh metaphors the readers enjoyed. It was a gamble with most of the readers but it usually paid.

He observed the other two's reactions and rubbed the back of his neck with a deep exhale and grinned at her. "There's 3 of us right...two of us attend the arms trade with most of the weaponry, the other one can just observe the situation till it gets heated enough and blam, we have them in a corner they can't escape"

He grinned like a proud kid with a drawing he just did as he looked to Marc and then back to Riley "Or of course, we can dispose of the guns"

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Club AfterDark: Relic pushed through the back door and looked around frantically as he shoulders his bag with his lap top. He could already hear the sirens off in the distance. This was the last place he wanted to be right then, though in the back of his mind he was glad they had waited until not to leave. Had they left earlier and out the front they might have been in the middle of all that gun fire. "Forget the car, let's hit the subway," he said before moving quickly down the alleyway, trying not to stumble over the mounds of garbage that was piled up next to the overflowing dumpsters.

Out front it looked like looked like the Valentine's Day massacre, bodies everywhere with blood pouring form their wounds an draining into the sewers. Freddy came outside slowly with his side arm aimed low, looking around a few before whistling. At that point Trisha stepped out and narrowed her eyes. "Damn it, shit doesn't go down here," she muttered before walking back inside as he whipped out her cell phone. "Fuck man, glad I came in for a drink," Freddy said looking over towards Scott. "Not going to be any business tonight besides the damn cops and news crews."

Classic Building 3C: "No, I understand Riley, I just want them out of here for a day at the most," Marc commented quickly. Last thing he wanted was to drag someone else into this mess. Following Riley, he helped move everything to her apartment for the time being, locking up Lawsons place before they left. Once they were in her apartment and the door was closed tight he dropped the bags and looked at Felix and Riley. "No, we will get rid of the guns but fuck you two going anywhere near an exchange. I don't want you two ending up dead like Lawson." Sighing he sat down on the couch and rubbed his face. This was not what he was expecting. After a few minutes Riley's phone rang. Once she answered it a distorted voice began to speak. "Shouldn't poke your nose in where it doesn't belong. You have something of mine and unless you want to end up like the local drug dealer, you do what I say," the voice said before an image file was received via text on Riley's phone. It was a picture of the crime scene at Club Afterdark, it showed Ronnie and Chloe dead on the streets. It looked like the image was taken from the roof of a building across the street. "Wait for my instructions."

Queensguard R&D: Elizabeth nodded towards Keystone before turning with Leann and making their way over to the elevators, stepping in and going up to the top floor. Once their Leann stepped out as Elizabeth's phone rang. Answering it her eyes flickered slightly. "I see, take care of it," was all she said before hanging the phone up. Glancing over towards Leann she gave a thin lipped smile. "It seems you arrived just in time, there was an attack on my air strip. Tragic really." Leanna stopped and glanced over her shoulder towards the owner of Queensguard. "Do you need assistance?" the Secretary of Defense asked. "Not at this time," Elizabeth said waiving off the help as the two stepped into Elizabeth's office. "Wait here," she instructed the escorts before shutting the door so that the women could have a word alone together. Leann's escorts eyed the security detail as they took position just outside the doors.

The Safe House: "Right now he is our best bet. If he wanted us dead he could have easily handed us over to either groups by now or just left me in the hospital. I think something else is going on here but we won't know if we cut ties with him or just kill him outright." Risa sighed slightly before stepping over to the front door and opening it, letting Roy back in. "So, what's the verdict? Kill me, run off, or?" he asked. "Seems we are in this together for now. Cross us and you'll wish this Persephone had gotten a hold of you first," Risa warned. Roy nodded before his phone went off. Glancing down at it he cursed under his breath. "Listen, I gotta go, there was a drive by," he said before turning and leaving. Shutting the door behind him, Risa shook her head. Glancing over towards Lucas her lips thinned. "Where too now?"

Justice Asylum: Cynthia spun around a few more times before stopping and getting a sickening smile across her lips as her hair fell down around her face. "No rest but the eternal is left," she said before giving a bow and skipping over towards the door and opening it. The orderly's were there and stopped her, glancing over at the doctor for a moment, waiting for instructions. Out in the Rec room area across from the office the TV was on and reports were coming in about a mass drive by already. "This is Amy Adams for Channel 6, we have received reports of a shooting over at Club Afterdark. Over a dozen dead. We will keep you informed,"the news station reported. Cynthia tilted her head to the side as Helicopter footage showed the scene. "Valentine's Day," she said quietly as she stood there, looking transfixed by the footage.

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Riley looked towards Marc and gave him a slight smile and nod, the sooner that the guns were out of her apartment the safer she felt. She was glad that Marc didn't suggest that they would go to the exchange where the guns were suppose to be taken to. "Sounds good to me, i'll take the rest of them to my closet." Riley said as she grabbed the other bags while Marc went to sit down on the couch, she made her way into her room and opened the closet, one by one she put the duffle bags filled with guns in the corner of her closet hiding them behind some coats she had in there. As she was about to leave the closet Riley felt her phone vibrate, she looked at the number but it was unknown she slowly brought it up to her ear. "Hello?"

Riley's face then started to go really pale hearing the distorted voice on the other end, jumping slightly as she felt her phone vibrate again. She took the phone away from her ear seeing the file that was sent to her, Riley opened the file seeing the picture of the street below she could see Ronnie and Chloe's dead bodies. Riley's legs quickly gave out, as tears started going down her face Riley covered her mouth trying her best to hold back her cries. Riley had just seen her sister just a few minutes ago in her apartment alive, Ronnie and Chloe were the only people aside from Cecily and Marc that she truly trusted in this city.

Then images of the reunion went through her head as she remembered the classmates she lost because of Chris, herself, Marc, Chloe and Cynthia survived it all. But she was still having a hard to processing that her sister was now dead, Riley started to breakdown she wasn't sure if she wanted to tell Marc. The person on the other end was threatening her life now she didn't want to drag Marc into all of this they had been through a lot already. Riley slowly got up and made her way towards the door to her bedroom and locked it she then slumped down onto the floor her back up against the door waiting for the voice on the other end. If the voice wanted her to kill someone she would refuse it and let Marc know.

"Are you sure you want to ditch the car entirely? Peyton's case file is still in there." Along with who knows what else. "I know you probably have it backed up in other places, but still, wouldn't it be an issue if the cops, or anyone else of like that ended up finding it there?" There were a lot of things you could get that weren't easily traced back to you, but a car that expensive probably wasn't one of them. And even if that was the case, just abandoning a nice car to be stolen (and chances were that is would get stolen) didn't sit right with Mali, if only because it was a huge waste of money.

"Sorry if this startles you." Mali ran up and grabbed Relic around the torso with both hands and hoisted him over her shoulder. They needed to move fast, and Relic was anything but the athletic type. Sure he'd be potentially uncooperative extra weight, but there was no way he weighed in at more than 150 pounds, if that. For the short term, that wouldn't be much of an issue. She could just think of this as a high-intensity cardio workout.

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Giving Risa a nod as she made her decision, Lucas took a deep breath, hoping he wasn't regretting his decision as he looked over to the door while she let Roy back in. He couldn't help the constant feeling that this was a mistake, that Roy was just waiting for the perfect opportunity to stab them both in the back. But then again, he figured he would have had similar regrets or thoughts from turning Roy away, and had they done that, he might've just cut his losses and turned against them anyway. At least for the time being, this was their safest option.

As Roy spoke up mentioning the drive by, Lucas sighed, shaking his head as he looked over to Risa. "Well, plan is just the same as before I suppose, we should work on getting those ID's sorted, then we can look into the explosion with a little less suspicion, hopefully." He shrugged as he watched her, crossing his arms over his chest. "Unless any new plan comes to mind?"

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Scott sighed as he looked down over the bodies. It wasn't the first time he'd seen bodies before, he'd seen plenty of drive by's just like this one during his gang days, hell, he'd taken part in them. As Trisha came out and spoke up, Scott couldn't help but consider what she said, nothing did go down at Afterdark, that place was Switzerland as far as most of the local gangs were concerned. No business, no violence in or around Afterdark, it was Trisha's place and everyone respected that. He couldn't help but think about the fact that his couldn't have been one of the gangs, this had to be someone else, with an agenda.

He glanced over to Freddy, giving him a nod and a reassuring pat on the shoulder. He knew the man had experiences like he did, he doubted any of the staff were particularly shaken by the attack. Shrugging at his words, he glanced around for a moment or two before looking back to Trisha inside. "Might not be for a couple days either, Trisha'll be on a warpath..." He sighed, shaking his head as he moved back inside, going to get his things to head home, he doubted she'd need him to stick around, after all.

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Like some sort of demonic marionette, Cynthia did a little bow, exclaiming the next morbid saying that came into her head. Iris' heart broke for her, however. Cynthia didn't scare Iris, though she knew that perhaps the girl should have. She more seemed a little broken. As Cynthia exited her office, Iris rose to her feet, meeting her with the orderlies at the door.

"If you could, please escort her to her room," Iris requested. Some of the patients in the halfway home were free to roam as they pleased, without needing an escort. But Cynthia appeared to be a more dire case. Exercising a bit more caution certainly wouldn't hurt. As the idiom of Iris' father's homeland went, Cynthia was out in the west. The woman was broken and abused, delusional and just a little insane.

Iris followed Cynthia's eyes, seeing the news report about a massacre. She sighed a bit internally. Her brother would panic if he saw the news--he always did when something happened in Justice, needing to be reassured that Iris was safe and secure, even if she was nowhere near the scene of the tragedy. But she returned her attention to the report, making a mental note of Cynthia's description of it. Valentine didn't refer to the lovely consumerism of hearts and roses--it was blood and massacres. An odd comparison, to say the very least.

"Thank you," Iris nodded at the orderlies, before heading to the nurses' station. She picked up Cynthia's file, and returned to her office, shutting the door as to not be disturbed. Yet the contents in the file were anything but disturbing. Cynthia's prior treatment had been at Shady Pines Ward For The Mentally Insane in Indiana. She had been subjected to electroshock therapy and lithium, as if the asylum had shunned modern medical advancements.

Iris tugged on her hair, turning through the file as she continued to read. Cynthia had been incarcerated for murder during her senior year of high school, with the conviction overturned ten years later. The more Iris read, the more horrified she became. She was quite aware that corruption and malpractice existed in asylums--but this was inhumane. She tucked her hair behind her ear, reading through the rest of Cynthia's treatment history. She had been transferred from the institution in Grimm to a halfway house in Seattle back in the fall, and had personally requested a transfer to Justice.

But what sparked the move to Justice? Iris frowned deeper. Something unsettled her about all of this. The identity of Valentine had been superimposed onto Cynthia--but she could not find anything to explain the kinship with the murderous saint. Closing the file, Iris turned to her computer, preparing to do her own digging. Her first move was to email the staff in Seattle, requesting any information as to where the name Valentine had originated from, assuming she could not find answers in the file. And then, she would begin researching the events that had occurred in Grimm. To treat Cynthia, she would first need to understand her.

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"Si, si. Got it." remarked Caesar absently. It was time to move on, though part of him really wanted to linger in this place for a little while longer. He got to hear his daughter's voice again. It made getting shot at worth it. Ok, maybe not for Cecily. Her blood loss had been arrested, but she still needed professional assistance with it. They weren't even sure if the slug was still in there. He put his eye to the retinal scanner, and ushered his young escort into the darker unknown.

Caesar's phone provided a source of mild illumination, if required. In truth, he would rather make the least amount of noice or light possible, but it would be pointless if they just got lost down there and died of... whatever people died of in a sewer/storm drain system. Alligators, maybe. The older Mexican drew something large and sharp and readied his .45, just in case. "Niña, if it is okay with you, I will keep watch. You navigate. You need a Doctor, Cecily. Maybe your friend at the morgue? We need to recover my bike before long, too. It could lead them back to us."

He was starting to ramble. A mix of emotions welled up in him, threatening to fracture the cold, ruthless killer he was just minutes ago. That guy kept him alive, many times over. But concern for his new charge, seeing M'hija again, the reveal of her self-appointed mission; his own protective instincts sought to make him sloppy. A possible sign of this, he rambled. Hardening his thoughts to the necessity of the moment, Caesar listened and remained watchful to any threats that may be imminent, be they from people, their environment, or even alligators.

He grinned watching them handle the guns before clicking his tongue glancing out of her window. This was getting boring. He needed to go to that exchange, chances were there was something big there, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible for something juicy to write about.

With a sigh he began to pace and listened to marc with a neutral smile plastered on his face as he weighed up his options on what to do. He probably had a plan so it would be best to check in. "Well for starters it wouldn't be my first rodeo, my late brother left some notes on how to handle those type of deals." he let those words lie with a small chuckle "But for now Marc, what are our moves? I don't fancy the idea of being cooped up in here all day"

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Anyone not replied to here was PMed their characters information. ^_~

Alleyway Behind Club AfterDark: - Relic shakes his head. "No, I don't want to leave it behind but better they find the car out front than us," he says. He knows it is a risk leaving the car for now but better than walking onto a crime scene just to get his car. "It can't be traced to me," he assures Mali. The car isn't in his name and anything with his name on it is on him. "We need to get to the docks to meet my sister," he says before gasping as Mali picks him up. He barely weighs 120lbs soaking wet, so the lift and carry really shouldn't be anything big for Mali. He moves around a bit to get a better view, telling her to hand left or right as is needed to get them away from the club and over to a main street. "Put me down please," he asks her as they come up on a road. "We should be able to catch a bus two blocks down from here," he says as he points off.

Classic Building 3C: - Marc looks at Felix as if he is mental. "Are you mental? You read something and think you can handle a weapons exchange with people that are able to take down Navy Seals? Do you just write fiction or do you really live in a fantasy world?" Marc asks before turning slightly as he hears Riley lock her door. Cocking a brow he turns his attention back towards Felix slowly, wondering why she locked the door. Maybe she wants to change or just wants a moment alone but to lock the door? Something seemed off. "Right.... okay, let's go over what we have. We have files on people, people that are dead and then some. A drop location or meet up location. All hidden in a dead Marines apartment. With all this, isn't this the time where your writer senses start tingling and you give me some out of the box absurd conclusion that only makes sense in the head of a writer but we follow it anyways, Castle?"

The Safe House: - Risa watches Roy leave and runs her hand through her hair before standing up and gathering the blank id's and anything else she needs. "I say we get out of here while we can. I have a burner phone I found, Roy probably knows the number, if not, oh well. We can use it if we need. Right now let's get these ID's straightened out. We could use public transportation but I hate to say it, it's better if we procure a vehicle. I really don't want to get stuck in a shoot out on the bus," she says before shouldering her bag. Heading over to the door she opens it and looks around for the first real time since she was brought there. "What in the world," she says as she looks around. They are in town, that much is sure but she isn't sure where they are. The house is run down on the outside but the entire block seems that way. There isn't much besides a convenience store in the distance it seems. "Guess first thing is first, finding out where in the damn city we are," she mutters as she waits for Lucas and closes the door behind her. Turning she starts heading towards the corner store. Looks like they are in the bad side of town, the sound of cop sirens can be heard off in the distance.

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Riley slowly closed her eyes she rested her head up against the back of the door the phone still in her ear, listening to the voices' instructions on the other end to hold onto the weapons and wait until further notice for the drop off, and if she didn't comply with the orders more people that she knew would die. She was really scared just finding out Chloe and Ronnie had just been killed, once the call had ended Riley felt her phone vibrate once more. Riley's eyes went wide when she saw the two pictures one of Marc getting out of his car just outside of Boston Heights, and then the other of Cynthia being escorted into Justice Asylum. She didn't even know that Cynthia was in Justice at all from what Marc told her she should have been in a halfway house somewhere else. Riley's hands were still shaking badly, two more of her friends were now at risk.

Riley then threw her phone across the room landing on her bed, she didn't know what to do if she didn't do what the voice said they would die. And if she did most likely she would end up dead once she got to the exchange whenever they called her again. Or they would continue to make her do things that she didn't want to do. Riley rubbed her eyes, Marc was the only person she could trust she didn't even know Felix that long he could be a mole for all she knew despite if the man was good or not. Marc also probably knew what to do, but then again he could be dead once she told him.

Looking up at the window in her room Riley quickly got up and looked around the picture of Marc was close by and wasn't that long ago there could be someone still watching her right now for all she knew. Riley sighed rubbing away some of the tears trying her best to get the thoughts out of her head, she decided to tell Marc. She knew those guns shouldn't leave with whoever it was out there that called her, Riley sighed as she grabbed her phone and headed towards the door and unlocked it.

Quickly Riley went over towards the curtains and closed them, then she took out her phone if the person was still there whoever it was shouldn't be able to see the three of them. Catching the end of their conversation Riley took out her phone and started typing on the keyboard.

"Chloe and Ronnie are dead."

Riley showed the screen towards Marc and showed the picture of their bodies outside, she didn't know if it was safe to call anyone else she knew and didn't want to risk texting. Riley then quickly started typing again looking around the room before showing him the screen with two more pictures of him and Cynthia both outside Boston Heights and Justice Asylum.

"Unknown number called, sent me these. Both you and Cynthia are targets, if I don't comply with their demands with those guns we found."

Riley was still shaking as she just held the screen towards Marc, she felt like a wreck again the same feeling that she had back during the reunion in Grimm. Riley was doing her best to try and not break down again she didn't know what else to do and if she just killed her friends.

"Will do, once out of alleys," Mali said in between breaths. Once she picked up Relic she picked up the pace to an out-and-out run. She did her best to make sure Relic was securely in place so he didn't end up slipping and falling on his head, but at the same time wasn't getting crushed either. It was kind of like picked up a kitten, where you could feel how fragile it is and how you could hurt it if you were too careless or malevolent (and had no soul. Why would you knowingly hurt a kitten with your bare hands?).

Going to the docks? Coming up again today was an odd little coincidence. And there was something else about the docks that didn't sit right with Mali, but she couldn't quite figure out what it was right now. The most annoying part about the mental block was that her brain knew she should remember exactly why it brought up a red flag, but was useless with getting the reason itself. Mali slowed to a stop and gently put Relic back down onto his feet and wiped some sweat off of her brow. The summer heat wasn't doing her any favors in the hydration department.

"Alright, lead the way to the bus stop. Even though we'll probably show up early to the docks." Right as the words left her mouth, Mali remembered the efficiency of the Justice Public Transit system. "Scratch that, we'll get there on time if we're lucky."

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Cecily nodded. Caesar seemed to be slipping slightly, the hardened exterior falling off ever so slightly. She hadn't known him all too long, but he had softened. The bloodlust had vanished, leaving behind the grieving and broken man. Cecily wasn't certain how to comfort him, and instead, she glanced over the map of Justice. The map indicated Boston Heights, but she didn't recall any doctors there. It took her a moment, but she managed to locate the path to the morgue. Natasha would help--hopefully.

"Morgue looks like the closest," Cecily agreed. The thought of the bike being discovered did unnerve her, but she doubted they wouldn't be able to ID them by then. Whatever Queensguard was going, it wasn't pretty. They might already recognize her--and Caesar's scars made it hard for him to blend in. Her pessimistic attitude told her their death warrants had already been signed--but they still would need to recover the bike. Even if it only bought them a little more time. "Maybe Roy could go take care of it?" Cecily asked.

She kept pressure on her wound as best as she could, carefully making her way through the sewers. She couldn't help but be glad Caesar was keeping watch--she wasn't the best when it came to a fight. Her eyes trailed the winding passages, noticing the decrepit nature of some. A few even looked recently demolished, and she couldn't help but wonder if Alicia had been responsible for this as well.

Fortunately, the morgue seemed to be the fastest place they could get to. She would've gone to the hospital, if she wasn't almost positive they wouldn't hesitate to kill the new coroner. They had already proven themselves to be without remorse, after what they did to Wallace....And then a thought struck Cecily. Wallace had said Proserpine's name.

How the hell did Wallace know Proserpine's name?

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Le massacre de la Saint-Valentin (Saint Valentine's Day massacre) est le nom donné à l'assassinat de sept personnes qui s'est produit le 14 février 1929 entre ...

Iris frowned, tugging on her hair. She favored French to English, having set up her computer in the language. There had been no reply back from the Seattle halfway house--but that was to be expected. She had only emailed them minutes ago. As she searched for the name, most of the results dealt with almost a century old killer. And from what Iris had learned about the tragedies at Grimm, that didn't match Cynthia. She had adopted the persona of the Grimm serial killer--so why a murderer from 1929?

À Chicago, le 14 février 1929, vers 22 heures, dans un garage désaffecté situé au numéro 2022 de Clark Street, sept membres du gang de George...

Biting down on her lip, Iris continued to dig deeper. The search results continued to echo the same story. Iris glanced over at her phone, considering asking her brother for help--but she didn't dare to bother him. He was busy with his own affairs. She started to refine her search, searching by the decade, and only receiving articles on the same event written by historians. But once she hit the 90's, something new popped up.

"Qu'est-ce que c'est?" Iris muttered under her breath, clicking on the website. It was in English, detailing a similar massacre that occurred in Chili. The author claimed it was a government cover-up, a conspiracy and a revenge killing. Biting her lip, Iris' eyes fell on Cynthia's file. It was unlikely, but it was plausible...Cynthia, from what Iris could tell, absorbed the mentalities of killers she encountered.

And this was the most modern Valentine she could find. She doubted it was the same one, but perhaps this person could give her a hint. She quickly sent an email to the site owner, a man named Relic, asking to meet in regards to the Valentine's Day Massacre.

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Nodding toward Risa, Lucas made sure he had everything he needed again, ensuring that his weapon was holstered and well hidden as well as he moved with her toward the door. When they got outside, he raised an eyebrow and peered around, shrugging his shoulders as he glanced about, they certainly didn't seem to be near the Boston Heights. "Well, we ain't in Kansas any more." He commented light-heartedly as he looked over to her, offering a soft smile. Moving along with her after she closed the door, he tucked his hands into his pockets, idly glancing around as they moved down the street, looking for any particular details which would show him where they were.

At the very least he figured the location of the safe house wasn't bad, Juno seemed generally a bit high-and-mighty to be slumming it in spots like this, and while Argus certainly lowered itself to spots such as this when it was necessary, he thought, or at least hoped, that it would probably be a while before they came looking for them there, as opposed to any of the other possible spots they could have been in. At least for now he figured they'd be a little safe, from Juno and Argus, anyway.

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Scott had just gathered up his things when the cops showed up, sighing. He had hoped to get going before they showed up, knowing he'd have been stuck there to answer all those questions. Sighing, he sat down as the cops began to ask their questions, it was the usual ones, the kind he'd use to give fake answers to when it came to jobs he'd been involved in, this time he actually could answer with a bit of truth. "I'm packin' up my shit so I don't have to do it later, i'd rather go home than be stuck here." He answered honestly.

Along with that, he went through the standard answers, explaining the more notable ones who'd showed up, the customers he'd served. However, he did keep Zoie to himself, he knew better than to bring her up, he preferred to avoid getting in the shit with Trisha. However, just before he finished, he did remember another. "Just before the shooting, I saw a woman out back in the kitchen, she decked one of the chef's and took off before the drive-by." He gave a brief description of the woman, as well as he could remember. For now he just tried to be as useful as possible, in the hope of being let go as soon as possible.

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The decision to travel to the Morgue required a little more consideration than just, "Hey! Morgue seems like the place to be!"; there were other factors. The first one in Caesar's mind was the little matter of his trike. It wasn't particularly close to their entry point, in fact being well outside of their (legal) influence. But little things like boundaries, Caesar suspected, didn't mean much to men like this. Well, any more than they meant to him, at any rate.

Securing that vehicle meant a faster trip to wherever they were headed. It also meant that they wouldn't find it, wouldn't put two and two together, and wouldn't trace the intrusion back to him. But it wasn't obviously parked. Caesar put the odds at 50-50, them poking their heads above ground this close to the airfield. And Cecily's wound wasn't gushing blood at the present. She seemed to want to hit the Morgue first, and send someone back to collect the trike. Might as well. It would be slower, but more likely to avoid another gunfight and potentially make the situation worse.

"Ok niña. Morgue, get you fixed up. If you know somebody that can get that trike, that you trust, I'd like it if you would ask them to try. Let's get moving then."

As they began their thoroughly unglamorous underground trek, Caesar began speaking, remembering the message on the video from earlier. "I meant what I said before. About leaving town. I have some business to take care of, far away from here. You know what some of it is already. You should come. Stay out of town until eyes are looking at someone else. We'd leave as soon as you... as soon as the morgue is finished..."

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Keystone and his small group of MSS guards took position outside of the office, as instructed. Unless told otherwise by a ranking official in the company, he was to follow contract for this woman. But something was nagging him. Somehow, Caesar knew that it was this woman who was about to show up. It was one of the last things he had communicated to Keystone; then there was nothing. There had to be a connection there, somewhere.

Maybe it was just a healthy dose of paranoia, but just then the broad man didn't feel particularly safe. He was also very curious as to the nature of this visit. As glad as he was that he was packing a secure vest and firearm, it came with very little comfort in the closer quarters of this hallway, being in close proximity of other trained men with guns that he didn't command. Keystone touched his earpiece, and broke the tense silence with his deep, Cockney brogue, "Status at the 'ub? Eyes on us an' the client, yeah?"

He gave a quick smile to the Secretary's security, and made sure to pay plenty of attention to the details of these men. How they were standing, how they held their hands, the expressions on their faces. Where they kept communication devices, obvious weapons, and places for less obvious ones. Considering the close proximity, he judged the distance to them as opposed to how much ground he could cover before they could clear a weapon.

Keystone planned, consciously, how best to kill these men if need took him. Barehanded if possible, and how to respond if there was a hint of alarm inside of that office. Safe, not sorry.

He looked at Marc for a minute, his teeth pressed together in a grin as his brain worked overtime. he wasn't the best at this when it came down to nitty gritty. He had to be home, with his typewriter, with his lighting, with his food. This wasn't his circumstances to work in. He flexed his hand before letting out a small sigh of relief.

"You said it yourself...you're not gonna believe me" He chuckled a little and looked around the room, before Riley had returned, and if she had, he didn't notice her.

"From what I can gather..." This was bad he wasn't ready yet. "This Lawson...he was ready to do an all out shoot out with this arms dealer, presumably connected to Juno....or maybe someone else. I myself was doing some research recently." he smirked "Ever heard of Queensguard? heard the head of that company's been getting involved. Curious that all this has been going down at once"

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Anyone not replied to here was PMed their characters information. ^_~

Subway of Justice: - "Yeah, second thinking that. Subway seems safer. Or at least less crowded," Relic says as he pulls the hood of his hoodie up and heads towards the bus stop but passes it. Making his way down the street stairs to the underground Subway entrance he comes to the gate and runs a card through twice. "Got you covered," he says without looking back, always looking forward and keeping an eye out to their surroundings. The place is pretty dirty and trashy as are the people but this is that end of town. Nothing seems out of place as the subway pulls up and comes to a stop. Once the doors open Relic waits for a few people to step out before boarding and finding a couple of seats away from the few that are actually on the subway. Sitting down he unshoulders his bag and pulls out a phone. One he hasn't used yet and connects it to his laptop in his bag. Biting his bottom lip he checks his messages and notices he got an email. "Well at least there is something to pass the time," he mutters as he reads the email, not hiding it from Mali, it will be clear for her to read as well. Asking about the St. Valentine's Day massacre copycat that happened in the 90's.

Classic Building 3C: - Marc cocks a brow and shakes his head slightly as he listens to Felix. "Yeah, hard to believe that," he says before standing up as he hears Riley's door unlock and open. Looking over to her he gets a worried expression on his face because of the look on hers. As she shows him her phone he closes his eye and hangs his head for a minute. Holding up a finger he takes her phone and types out. "Wait here one minute," he says before heading out of the apartment and down to his car. Coming back up a few minutes later with a small bag he slides out a device after he closes and locks the front door. Setting the small black box up on the counter he enters in a few key strokes before saying anything. Once a light goes green on the box he turns back to the two. "Sorry, it's a signal disrupter basically. If there is anyone listening in or watching us, they aren't now," he said before walking over to Riley and wrapping his arms around her. "I'm so sorry Riley, I should have kept a better eye on her and kept her safe."

The Corner Store: - As they get closer to the store Risa stops and notices the signs on the windows. None of them are in English, they are all in Russian. Looking over towards Lucas she smirks a bit and opens her bag, pulling out some gaudy large jewelry and put it on before making her make up a bit brighter on her lips and darker around her eyes. Teasing her hair a little she curls a grin on her lips as she shoves the rest back into her bag and shoulders it. "Time to play the part," she says in a thick Russian accent. "Pump and Dump," she adds before heading into the corner store. It was an old plan they had used several times before in Russia and in various parts of other countries when in the Russian side of town. Risa would secure keys to a vehicle while Lucas kept watch. The corner store was small and simple enough but it was a gas station as well and a repair shop was next to it. The bell on the front door rang as Risa stepped inside. It was time to get this done so they could get out of there.

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Riley watched as Marc took her phone and lowered his head and then typing on her phone, she gave her friend a slight nod as she turned to Felix smiling sadly towards him. She wasn't sure what he was talking to Marc about while she was in her bedroom while she received the terrifying call, Riley was still shaken up when Marc left the room she quickly moved towards the window lifting up the curtain as she watched Marc making his way to his car. She didn't know if there was someone still watching him or if they had a gun trained on him, Riley saw him grabbing something from the back of his car and then headed back up into the building. Riley sighed softly he wasn't shot while going outside, she was worried she just painted a giant target sign on Marc and Cynthia's backs since she had just told him that they were being targeted now if she didn't obey the demands of the caller.

Then Riley turned as Marc came in and closed the door to her apartment and locking it, seeing the device he had brought in as Marc took it out of a small bag. She waited until Marc finally spoke again, he accepted the hug as Marc pulled her into it Riley was shaking badly in Marc's arms she shook her head slightly. "It wasn't your fault.." Riley said quietly as she held the hug for several more seconds before letting go of him. Riley then flopped down onto her couch leaning forward and looked down at the floor, she remembered Marc almost dying back home she looked up at him.

"I don't know what to do, the voice said if I don't hand the guns over when I get further instructions you and Cynthia will die." Riley said as she ran a hand through her hair looking up at Felix for a moment. "I know I cant give them those guns, but if I do I don't know what they are going to be used for."

He gritted his teeth again as he heard Marc's disappointed and slightly angry response. At least that was what Felix took it as. He rubbed the temples of his head as he put his head in his hands before seeing the sad smile from Riley and quickly gatherting up what was being said. This organisation was using her. At least Marc wasn't grilling him for solutions now. Now he had an idea on how to get himself involved. How to actually help out.

After all. That's all he was. A writer. He wasn't an agent or a rockstar, both of which had survived a serial killing. he was a writer well off from a rich family back in germany, getting himself involved when he could just go home and sip on champagne all day. But that. That would be boring.

"Is there anywhere safe you can hide Marc and yourself?" He asked with a quizzical expression. "I know I'm not the most trusted person in this room, however..." He nodded. "If you need someone to be a distraction with the guns, whilst you collect the other girl...I'd be happy to be of service"