The Worst In Me (Ending to the Fault Line Trilogy)

Chapter Seven

"You heard me, I'm not saying it again." Agent Smith looks down at his faded tan colored folder marked confidential. My surprise goes to amusement as he fails at making his next sentence. My smirk grows with each mispronunciation. "I-is something funny?" He asks, sweat on his brow.

"Yeah, you." He raises an eyebrow in question. I lick my lips before I speak. "Because you're asking a criminal—FBI's Most Wanted, mind you—for help on a case! How is that not funny to you?" I chuckle to myself. Agent Smith looks at me with total and utter 'seriously?'

"I fail to see your amusement in this." Agent Smith replies monotone.

"Because you're the agent! You are supposed to be catching me! Your Most Wanted! Not asking me for my help in a case that you're so pleasantly asking assistance on. Did I wake up in a parallel world or something?" I ask, observing the agent in front of me. He's definitely annoyed at me, disapproval, disbelief in himself . . . and it that a little hope in there? Oh, well. If this is for real, then I'm going to get a little fun out of it first. Fun meaning that I'm going to make him stutter and sweat and lose his vocabulary. How? With my amazing references!

"Lana, stop." The sincerity and seriousness in his voice makes me stop every movement, every emotion, except breathing. No more references I guess. Darn. "This is serious, Lana. We wouldn't have asked for your help unless we really needed it."

"This-this is a joke, right?" I make out. My breaths quicken a little, this is not happening right now! I always imagined that one day when we're both in our elder years we would look back on my criminal years and his failed attempts at trying to catch me. I never thought that young Agent Smith would be asking for my help on an FBI case when I'm like number one on his priority list!

"No, Lana. The FBI and myself need your help. That's why you need to trust me. Because after you help us solve this case and catch the crook, you won't be arrested and free to do as you please. But if this whole Black Market scheme continues to go on then we will have to pursue an arrest. Do you get me?"

I purse my lips together before paraphrasing his words. "So what you're saying is: you need my help because I'm your worst enemy?"

"No, we need you because you can find this guy, take him down, and won't be caught while doing so. He won't ever suspect a thing. You're a criminal celebrity, Lana. He should bow down at your feet because he will never amount to your wickedness."

"Jethro, are you hitting on me?" I ask, a compact smile playing on my lips.

He takes a breath, surely losing his words over my actions. "Don't be like that, Carter." Agent Smith glares at me. I shut up. Apparently this is a very serious matter. Who knew, right? "We need you, Lana, you're the FBI's last hope."

I ponder on that proposal. Help the FBI, catch a bad guy, save the world, live the rest of my life in peace? Well, getting out of the Black Market will be hard enough, it's kind of like; once you're in, there's a slight chance that you'll ever get out. But when you sell super goods like I do and when you're a celebrity like, say, the FBI's Most Wanted, you might never get out. They're really testing me today. Oh, boy. And I was looking forward to Netflixing today. Darn it.

"Tell me what I would do on this mission . . . . quest . . . thing." Smiling at my reference, I applaud my geniusness and summon more to make this conversation more interesting. Cas knows that we could use more of it. I lean back, placing my left ankle under my right thigh. Being comfortable is very important. Especially under these circumstances.

"You would stay a high class criminal, so you, or you would be 'laying low' in the town that he's in. Whatever the case, you are to gain his trust, work with him, get him to our set up and then we'll catch him."