gunpowder, treason, and plot

THE DAY BEFORE.

Her pace was slow as she moved to the other side of the table; taking a seat across from him while that folder was pushed over the polished desk with a tap of perfectly manicured fingernails. The silence had lingered from the moment Danica called him in to the second he sat down so that those always calculating eyes could fixate upon him. To study him like always.

He flinched. Johnny knew he flinched even if he hadn't done it physically. His soul flinched at the sound of that folder hitting the table and the dry scrape when it was pushed toward him. Not because of the file itself which was innocuous enough. It was who was offering it to him that made him regard the thing as though it were a snake, and he was trying to remember if it was poisonous or not.

No one liked to be called into the principal's office, but for once he knew he wasn't in trouble. This was something far more serious.

When she finally withdrew her hand, allowing him to look, she comfortably leaned back in that leather black chair with the smallest of grins. “There’s a situation, Agent Cordello...and we believe it might be an easy win for you.” Briefly, her icy hues drifted downwards to the folder as an indication for him to check the record within.

He finally drew it over to him to flick it open in a familiar, practiced motion. The moment it opened and the contents were illuminated, Johnny's eyes fell to the small pile of photos taken from surveillance cameras and carefully hidden paparazzi agents.

Walsh, Marie. Age 28. Blue eyes, brown hair. Eugene, Oregon. Choir Director and Music Professor.

So on and so forth. There was nothing in there to explain why she was on the ACIS radar, because she clearly was if this was being set before him. There was something about her last name, though, that tugged at his memory. That was when green eyes glanced down further in the woman's file to notice the exact reason why: Niece of Elliot Walsh. Call sign Pyro. Retired.

He blinked, lips pursing in complete confusion. "Pyro, really? What's this about?" It wasn't like him to question a job, but he also never received anything in relation to a fellow agent like this before, and Pyro wasn't one he'd ever want to tango with.

Danica’s eyes trailed back up to him, then she spoke again, “We need you to bring her in.” Somehow, she knew he was about to question it, and one of those hands came up to silence him before he could. "This organization is dealing with a very big problem, Agent Cordello. Not only has Steven Houston found one of our black boxes, he dared to try and sell it. James Bishop has defected, refusing to take out Houston's asset as ordered, and might very well be in possession of said box. What we need you to do is to find Mr. Walsh's niece...get her to help you find her sister, thus the rest of these traitors. Make that pretty face of yours useful."

Cordello was looking at her with that usual, stupid look on his face, and she sighed at him. It sounded like a fucking soap opera. "It's all in that file. Pack your things-" she told him. "You have a flight in two hours."


PRESENT TIME.

Polished shoes carried him through the corridors of the university, having to ask a passing professor for directions towards the particular office he sought for. He'd read over the file from ACIS several times on the flight to Oregon, then a couple more times after that in his hotel room, and it still made little sense.

Correction: he understood the objective, knew what he had to do, but something about this all felt disjointed. It felt strange, but Agent Cordello didn't question a job. He just did it.

Adjusting the suit jacket over his broad shoulders, he rapped his knuckles upon the half-opened door to the woman's office as he peered in. There was no answer, but after taking a few steps inside, he spotted her there by her desk. It wasn't until after he cleared his throat to try and get her attention did he realize she had the earbuds in. Refraining from a sigh, he offered a polite smile when she finally spotted him.

"Ms. Walsh?" he asked, but he didn't really stop for her to acknowledge it. He knew who she was, and he'd stared at the photographs long enough to know he didn't have the wrong person. "Yes, actually. Have you heard from your sister in the last couple of days?" A hand was reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket to draw out his badge. It was a doctored one, of course, to say FBI and not ACIS...considering no one was to know about that particular agency. It still gave him just as much authority.

This was where he had to tread carefully. If he pushed too hard, she could withdraw, and he didn't know how heavy her loyalty was to her sister. What he was curious about, though, was how much she knew about Helina and the defector, Gamble...or if it was possible that she knew very little. That was what he had to figure out first.

Once she got a good look at that badge, he had to refrain from grinning. That false surname amused him, and it had been a surprise that the agency even allowed him to choose it, but that was neither here nor there. The little inside joke didn't deter him from the task at hand, no matter how much he had to suppress his chuckle. It also didn't keep him from noting her stance, the way she stepped back. There was that distrust that came with authority, a distrust he couldn't actually blame her for.

This just meant she was maybe already questioning herself: should she or should she not talk?

Slipping that badge away, Johnny slowly began to roam the office, warily staying out of her "bubble". It was casual, his eyes subtly glancing at the papers along her desk, but he made more of a show of it when his attention drifted out the window. Almost as if he was expecting to see someone outside. "We don't know if something's happened," he answered her, before turning to fixate those green eyes on her face. "We've come to believe that your sister may have fallen into the wrong company in San Diego..." Trailing off, he paused for a brief moment. Oh yes, the agency was aware of a lot of things that went on in California...

No wonder Houston was so pissed. That poor, stupid bastard.

Johnny ran a hand down his face to mask the amusement that almost showed before continuing. "She might be with a defected agent, Ms. Walsh, or at least know where he is...and he's a very dangerous man." First rule to a good lie- tell as much of the truth as possible. Thus far, he'd done nothing but that. His gaze shifted to glance out the window once more; a finger pulling down a bit on the blinds. "In which case, you might be in danger yourself."

He saw nothing out that window. Not yet. He had a Plan B ready to go should he need it, but he was kind of hoping he wouldn't have to resort to that. Running and gunning, and saving a damsel wasn't something he was keen on doing today, yet sometimes the choice wasn't his. If she was going to continue to be cautious, or even cover up for her sister, then he'd do what he had to.

Those eyes shifted sidelong to watch as she dropped into her chair before he was fully turning to face her. Bingo. Johnny may have smiled were it the appropriate time to. Instead, he moved just a little closer in order to lean against the edge of her desk; a hand lifting as though it were ready to fall to her shoulder in comfort before he thought better of it. His voice dropped to a more calmer tone. "If she left him, then good. If she's home and safe, then good...but we've been unable to locate him."

Johnny stopped then, trying not to bombard her with too much but still playing that agent role. This had to sink in first. "I understand this is a lot and sudden, but there is urgency here. It is why I ask if you have heard from her in the last couple of days...and would she possibly have any reason to lie to you?"

'No.' It was sad how he almost laughed in her face. Her sister was lying to her. ACIS knew the woman was with Bishop somewhere, along with Walsh...and poor Marie didn't know about any of it. Johnny almost felt bad for her.

Then, her next words had him blinking, looking at her sternly and quietly. Huh, perhaps she did sense something.

The worry that painted her features was as clear as day. He had her, all he had to do was push her a little further, convince her of the danger Helina was in. And, to be quite frank, her sister was in danger...just the fuckin' Scotsman wasn't the entire problem, supposedly.

He took a silent moment to wonder how the Warden even allowed this shit to happen in the first place. Danica was a far smarter woman than that, so he couldn't help but be surprised. Then again, many of the big decisions weren't hers to make.

Johnny sighed and turned his gaze away from her with her question, seeming to mull something over quietly. "Listen..." he began, shifting so that he could lean back against the desk. He drew out his cellphone, quickly tapped in the passcode before navigating to particular surveillance cam footage he'd loaded in just in case. "I, uh...shouldn't be showing you this..." That was perhaps the first lie he told her, because ACIS truly didn't care at this point. Green eyes fell down to Marie's face, studying her for a quick moment. "He is very dangerous, Ms. Walsh, I assure you. He was sent to negotiate a particular situation, and instead...well-" Johnny flipped the phone around to show her. A tap of the play button, the scene with the cartel in San Diego began to play without sound so there would be no concern about someone in the hall possibly overhearing. It was from a feed only ACIS had been privy to. Bishop hadn't been there to negotiate, necessarily, and had done exactly as he was asked...but she didn't need to know that.

But only a heartbeat later, he swept his leg around to trip the southerner with the rifle before his hand was unsheathing the knife from his leg holster.

As a distraction, Jay grabbed the knife by the blade, and with a harsh snap of the wrist, sent it tumbling end over end towards one of the bodyguards. The man had lowered his sights to try and dodge, but it was too late- the knife nailed him square in the chest, sending him falling over onto a heap of boxes. The other guard was stunned but was already lifting his pistol to try and aim a shot, yet the agent was on the move.

Turning into a quick drop just as the southern man was clambering up to his feet, James slammed the butt of the gun straight into his face, snatching it from his grasp where he turned the sight towards the two left standing.

And open fired.

The former agent was still taking down the men in the video when Johnny finally paused it; locking and putting his phone away. "He is a threat," he added after. "And must be apprehended before more people get hurt. So-" For that brief moment, he wondered if he should push again or let this go. Let her think on it before executing Plan B. Withdrawing a business card, it simply read, Special Agent John Bonham along with his cell number. "Please, if you know anything, or you hear anything...just call. You might be the only link we have if he is, in fact, still with your sister."

The fact that she wasn't immediately willing to say much else gave him the hunch that she was going to try and call someone the moment he left. Drawing out his cell wasn't just to show her that footage, he was also very silently gaining a bit of access to her own phone, which he assumed was either on her person or in her purse right there on the desk. It was inevitable- no one was far from their cell these days, so he was counting on that with her.

Johnny pushed away from the desk slowly, giving her a nod of acknowledgement in return. "Be safe, Ms. Walsh," he told her simply, the corners of his eyes crinkling from the light smile on his lips as he bid her farewell. He was casual and calm in his departure, pulling the door closed halfway behind him just as he had found it when he first entered. It was only when he was down the adjacent hall and out of sight did his pace pick up faster.

Withdrawing a Bluetooth earbud from his pocket to slip into his ear, his fingers were already moving across the screen of his cell phone, tapping into the lovely professor's mic to tap it on. As he briskly walked his way out of the building, he was just in time to hear Marie make a call.

And it was to Pyro. Ah, so he was involved in this mess. No, he seemed to be trying to take charge of this mess. That was indeed gunfire he was hearing on the other line. For some reason, it had the agent grinning in amusement. He supposed one never did actually retire from this line of work.

Elliot was mentioning Houston causing problems, and then Johnny's brows rose a bit at the mention of Bishop. Apparently the old man killed him? From what he knew, Walsh had trained the Scotsman, so he was a bit wary about this intel. Still, if Gamble happened to really go off the rails like that, then Pyro had done ACIS a favor.

Cordello was outside as the two were saying goodbyes, crossing the street to find his car. No, correction, it wasn't his car, it was a rental. And what was worse? It was a fuckin' Toyota Corolla. In silver. Like everyone else around him seemed to have. It was like the world was taunting him, laughing at him, mocking him. There was even a key fob to unlock it, and he hated those things. Technology was dangerous, evident by how he was currently tapping into an unsuspecting woman's cell phone. Oh, the irony.

Refraining from a sigh as he pulled out the key and unlocked it electronically, he slipped into the driver's seat as Marie's call with Elliot ended. There was a strange silence that followed until Johnny could hear those sobs. That was when he finally sighed, shutting the car door. His tongue ran over his teeth in annoyance before he disconnected their phones to give her space. Emotion wasn't really his forte, at least not real emotion.

He was dialing another number, pulling out the earbud to bring the phone to his ear. "Standby. Looks like we're goin' with plan B." And he hung up. Resting his head back against the annoying headrest, Johnny patiently waited for Ms. Walsh to exit the building, even if it was another few hours.

After fifteen minutes, he was checking his watch. These kind of things could take awhile, but if she was traumatized enough, it could happen a lot sooner. Maybe she'd leave work early- Johnny didn't know her routine yet. This entire mission had been sprung on him, and he barely got to relax since getting off that plane.

A part of him almost tapped into her phone again, however, he really didn't want to hear more crying if that was indeed what was going on. He had boundaries, believe it or not...despite hacking in to listen to a personal phone call. But, secret agent, hello.

Idly tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the song stuck in his head, his attention shifted back out the window to catch sight of Marie leaving the building. Johnny was immediately on the move, sending a quick text to his contact as he climbed out of the car.

Adjusting his jacket again and undoing the single button for easier maneuverability, the target was nearing her car. His brisk walk had quickened into a jog...and on cue, the lady might spot a flickering of red light across her face before it was traveling down to her chest.

A sniper had her in her sights.

This part had to be timed perfectly because he really did not want a bullet lodged into his own chest, neither was he out to actually get this woman killed. So he was running then, and if she hadn't noticed the laser targeting her heart, he was yelling, "Get down!" Whether she listened or not, he was already at her side; an arm wrapping around her to force her down into a crouch just as the bullet shot through and shattered both back windows. Johnny was ushering her towards the car parked beside the Fiesta, blocking them from the sniper's view. For now.

With his back pressed against the car, he almost wanted to turn around and glare at the sniper. That had been really close, like...a little too close. You'd think the shooter was really trying to kill him. Johnny blinked stupidly amid Marie's freak out, wondering who exactly was behind the scope. Was it Mick? He accidently punched him once. Or maybe it was Jacob, and he was suddenly remembering that he owed the dude money. Or maybe it was Natalie...

No, if it was Nat, she definitely would have shot him.

Were they really in danger, his heart would have been drumming like crazy, yet he knew this wasn't real. He had trained professionals armed and ready to purposely miss, to make it look like they were in pursuit. This was all planned out. At least, mostly. Still, he had to make it look believable as he carefully rose up, attempting to peer through the car window. Another shot rang out, narrowly missing his head as more glass rained down on them. He immediately dropped back to his knee; his grin actually a little nervous.

Okay, that was definitely Natalie.

Get. Over. It. Already!

"I know where the shooter is. I just need you to stay calm, alright?" Sure, because that was so easy for a civilian to do. "C'mere-" A pause he carefully ushered her in front of him where he could point over her shoulder. "When I say so, run as fast as you can back to the building, stay against the wall. You'll be out of their sight." At least Natalie's for the time being. She wasn't the only one out there. Pump up that drama!

Carefully inching up again to peer through the now shattered window, his hand pressed to her shoulder in indication. "Go, go!" If and when she budged, he'd only be a few seconds behind her. However, another agent was crossing the street to head straight towards them.