The One-Seven

Chapter 17: A Close Call

Percy was in a rather foul mood as he entered the station. He'd lost his cool against Wise, and he knew that there was going to be some form of blowback coming his way. It was only a matter of time before someone came knocking for him. But he would worry about some wannabe mafiosos later. For now, he was far more concerned with seeing Strange and figuring out what the man found so interesting. He pushed his way into the ops room, to see that Montoya was already inside, but Strange was still getting whatever it was he had together.

"Hey," Montoya greeted as she stared down the transcript of their interviews. Percy grunted a greeting and collapsed into his chair. She glanced up, and her eyes narrowed. "What's got you so fussy." She asked,

Percy looked at her, "Had a little run-in with Wise." Montoya put her files down and gave Percy her full attention,

"What did he want?" She asked. Percy snorted, and took a sip from his thermos.

"Told me that I needed to 'get on board,' with the program." He said,

"And what did you say?" Montoya asked, she was scrutinizing him very closely.

"I told him where he could shove his offer." Percy said simply. Montoya continued to stare at him for a moment, no doubt looking to see if there was any kind of a lie there. Finally feeling satisfied, she nodded.

"You're going to need to be careful," Montoya said, "Falcone has the entire precinct in his pocket. He won't be happy with you not being on board with things."

"I can take care of myself," Percy said,

"I know that, Metro, but these guys can be good. Car-bombs, poison, finding and killing everyone you give a damn about. These guys don't play by fair. They will do anything to get you out of the picture." Montoya explained,

"You don't seem too worried, and you got to be damn near top of their little hit-list." Percy observed,

"Because I have the commissioner of the damn department on my speed dial among other...friends." Percy could read between the lines there, "My point is. They won't touch me because they know what'll happen to them if they do. You on the other hand? You might as well be open season for these bastards. I like you Metro, just do me a favor and don't die on me yet."

Percy chuckled and crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair, "Don't worry about little old me Monty. It's like I said, I can take care of myself."

The door to the room opened and Strange bustled inside, "Ah, detectives, you're early. That's excellent." He seemed incredibly excited. He deposited his bag on the table. Unzipping it, he began rifling through its contents for a moment before pulling out two manila envelopes. He passed the files over to Percy and Montoya and Percy opened it. It was a full psychological profile of the bastard behind the killings, as well copies of the case notes and photographs from the latest scene.

"So, the latest killing gave me a lot of new data to work with," Strange said in excitement, and Percy couldn't help but be a little put off by the sheer excitement the man was exhibiting at the loss of human life.

"All right...what do you got for us?" Percy asked,

"Look at the way the body was butchered." Strange said, almost happily, "Rage. Pure and unadulterated rage. Look at the way the body was hacked to pieces. Look, look, look." He said pointing at the dismembered body in the profile.

"Yeah doc, we remember. Can we, um, move it a long a little please?" Montoya said, looking a little queasy. Strange looked a little annoyed that she wasn't as excited as he was, but he acquiesced.

"Does the way it was hacked apart look familiar to you? And look at the puncture wound on its back, what is that?" He asked,

"Looks like it was made a by a meat-hook." Percy observed, looking at the picture.