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Registered User
Currently Offline
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Posts: 221
Join Date: Jan 2008
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Xavier Cross slipped into his jet black bodysuit and gathered his ammo into a black gym bag. He slung this along with his assault rifle over his shoulder. He glanced around H.Q. one last time mentally inventorying everything.
He had already called in Alicia Martin to take over monitoring the computer, since her shift was next anyways. Xavier told her he had something important to attend to, though he left out the details of getting a call from the director.
This was something he had to do alone. The rest of the team would not be involved if he could help it. Cross felt wholly responsible since it was he who had reported the drug-lord's death some years ago. How could he have made a mistake? He wasn't sure, but he knew it was his mistake to correct and his alone. To hell with what the director had told him.
As he made his way to the heliport on the roof of the building he shivered slightly at the chill that was caused by the rotating blades of the waiting Osprey. It was one of the perks of being government funded he supposed, having 24 hour access to an USAF Osprey and her three man crew.
He climbed aboard and the pilot, a man named George if he remembered correctly, had told him to strap in and prepare for lift-off. The plane took off vertically and then the engines rotated forward. They were off to Chicago.
The trip itself was uneventful and short. Just the way he liked it. Upon landing on another government owned building Cross disembarked as the pilot told him they would wait for two hours before returning to Wayward City, NJ. He waved to the pilot in thanks and descended the staircase.
The man in the photograph he had learned was found in one of the abandoned warehouses on the upper East side. Pulling his black hood over his head to conceal his identity Cross made his way into the warehouse to look for clues. Anything the CSI guys might have missed.
He spotted something off in a darkened corner. A cell phone, how had anyone missed this? With gloved hands he pick up the phone and check the numbers it had called and received from. One was indeed a Brazilian number that he recognized from his reconnaissance of Sanchez's compound.
"One of Philippe's goons must've done this" he muttered to himself.
Thinking back he remembered the "No 1 XX P.S." that he had seen on bodies before. Some of Sanchez's thugs, under interrogation, stated that it was used to label someone who double crossed the boss man. It literally meant No One double crosses Philippe Sanchez. It was used as a warning to anyone else who would do business with the drug-lord.
So what had this poor guy done to deserve death? Xavier didn't know and really didn't care. If he was mixed up with Sanchez he probably deserved it. But he did care about the one who did the hit. It was his only link to Phillipe. He had to find the hitter.
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