There were two casualties today, one victim was an FBI negotiator, and the other was the leader of the drug cartel group Zambada. The suspect has been identified as the infamous bounty hunter, Keck. We're standing here at the crime scene and we'll report back with more information, so stay tuned.
In order to mitigate the offensive presence of Keck, Conley had to dig further into his mysterious life. He needed names of family, close friends, and past girlfriends. He walked out of his office and stood in the middle of the packed room while everyone put their work to stop to stare attentively at their boss.
Conley raised one finger up, he did a slow three sixty to make sure he had everyone's attention. "In order to catch Keck, we need to all be working together," he stated. "I need everyone to investigate his past, give me names, and numbers."
People started nodding, becoming more immersed by his words. They were his puppets, they were his expenses to use and manipulate.
Then Conley let out an unexpected scream, "I want this son of a bit** caught!"
News has just come in that Keck allegedly shot Jose Silva, the leader of Zambada, and shot John Wyatt junior, an FBI negotiator. Witnesses said that Keck held two hostages, one of them being Silva, and another hostage who has not yet been identified.
The background of the television was audible enough for everyone to hear. The television was turned off immediately, and Conley finished his instructions angrily after being reminded of the incident.
He walked out of the FBI building, and walked carefully to the coffee shop. Being an agent was perceived by the public eye as fun, and adventerous. That fallacy was proven wrong when he joined the Bureau. Danger lurked in places you couldn't fathom. You have to learn to quickly identify any threats to yourself, or to the public.
He scanned the people he walked by, he scanned the people sitting down at local restaurants. He was scanning tirelessly before arrving at the Cafe la Java and picked his usual corner in the coffee shop so he could have a view of the whole place.
A middle aged waitress with curly red hair that always served him when he came, approached him.
"Shall I give you the usual?" she asked.
He nodded, and stuck one finger up to imply he only wanted one cup.
"Alright, I'll bring it right out." she said unethusiastically while walking away
A man walked through the doors making the bells chatter annoyingly.The man looked to the left, and then looked right meeting Conley's eyes. They both stared for a brief moment before the man found a place to sit. He too had his back to walls, and the same waitress that served Conley walked over to him and took his order.
The man would pay no attention to the waitress. He had his hands joined together, both thumbs at his lips, and stared maliciously at Conley. He tilted his head and squinted his eyes, his lips began to move and then the waitress walked away into the kitchen.
Conley pretended to reach for his wallet, but instead he grabbed his gun. He loaded it under the table so the man could not see. The waitress came out with cup of coffee, "Here you go sir, I put cream and sugar already in there for you," she said.
He grabbed the cup, took one refreshing sip that soothed his body as fluids of warmth spread throughout. Then he stood up, with his cup in hand, and gun pocketed furtively in his waist. He walked over to where the man was sitting and sat down. "Are you going to introduce yourself?" challenged Conley.
"Let's just say, that both of us have the same interests." cackled the man.
The agent responsible for today's atrocity is identified as veteran agent Matthias Conley. He has served twelve years in the bureau, and this was not the first time he has allowed casualties in a standoff with criminals.
Both of them stared at the television disgustingly, and then ignored it.
The man reached into his black exquisite blazer and Conley reacted by pulling his gun out and pointed it at the man's chest. The man laughed hysterically and said "Relax." He proceeded to pull out his badge, which indicated that he was working with the government.
"Levi, huh?," murmured Conley while he withdrew his gun.
"I have information of bounty hunters whom Keck has worked with in the past. " said Levi
Conley became amused and demanded, "Fax them to my office now, and call me when you have more." He then stood up, but Levi grabbed his wrist. "You need to include me."
"Why should I? I don't need more people in this mess," retorted Conley.
Levi gave him his card. "There's my number."
Conley decisively stared at the card, he grabbed it from Levi and gave him a nod of affirmation. He walked back to the FBI building.
Everyone noticed him walking back in, and the bedlam inside the buiding decreased. People started swarming him like mosquitoes thirsty for blood, files on hand, information being verbally spurted out from all angles. Conley shrugged everyone off and walked into his office and sat down.
On his desk was a list of Kecks' past girlfriends. There were eleven of them. There were numbers, addresses, e-mails, and the length of each relationship. Conley skimmed the list, looking for any names that might be familiar, but nothing stood out. He called the name in association with the longest relationship
He put the phone on speaker, and sanked back into his chair letting off a loud and tiresome yawn. The phone rang four times before a woman answered the phone.
"Hey this is Sarah," she said interestingly while trying to make out the other voice to see if it was familiar. "Hello Sarah, my name is Matthias Conley, I work with the FBI," he replied
"Oh my gosh, am I in trouble?" she afraidly asked. "No, you're fine," he chortled, "We just need your cooperation to locate your ex-boyfriend Keck."
"Why?" she said in a worried tone. "He's been reported missing for awhile now, is there any important information that you could give us that would help us locate him? he asked.
"I can't do that," she stated confidently.
Suspicion aroused from Conley, and he knew how to handle this perfectly. It's an old police trick that always forces someone to give in. You pressure the person into talking, you make threats, and you make promises that you have to break.
"Sarah, if you help us, we'll help you," he replied as he instantly went to his computer and looked up her information. She has two children who are fatherless, she lives on welfare, and she has a job at a sleazy strip club where she works five days a week.
"I can't," she repeatedly said.
"Listen, if you help us, we'll help you. If you have anything to hide from us you may serve a maximum punishment up to ten years in prison," he said. "Do it for your children's sake. Do you want to put them in foster homes?"
"I'm not sure where he is, but before he left he told me that he would visit me again," she sobbed
"Visit where?" he demanded.
"At my work," she embarrassedly answered.
"Was that so hard? Thanks for your cooperation Sarah, expect a call later from me with more details," he said as he hung up the phone.
He sat there, feeling a brief moment of victory and pondered his situation.
Conley attended Ohio State University on a full ride scholarship for basketball. He was recruited out of St.Vincent-St.Mary's high school in Akron, Ohio. He was the number three prospect in his high school class, and the number one prospect at the point guard shooting guard position. His freshman year he boasted standout numbers of 17.8 points per game, 7.9 assists per game, and 2.3 steals per game. He led his team to the elite eight of the NCAA tournament, before losing a heartbreaker to Lousiville.
Before the the start of his second season as a Buckeye, he was approached after a tiresome workout by a stranger named Dylan. Dylan kindly offered Conley twenty-five thousand dollars, as a gift of gratitude. Conley niavely accepted.
Three games into his second season, their team was undefeated. The twenty-five thousand dollars that he received several weeks prior were all spent. Dylan approached him after their home victory. "I need a favor from you."
Willing to please the man that gave him a large amount of money, Conley enthusiastically replied "Anything for you my man."
"Do you want more money?" Dylan asked
"It sure would be nice to have some extra cash," he replied with a grin.
"You need to cover the spread of your next game. Duke is favored by three, don't let me down," Dylan said as he walked off through the tunnels, and out of the gymnasium.
Conley stood there like an inert stone. There was no way he was going to lose on purpose. When the game started he forgot all about his duty to cover the spread. He scored twenty four points in a tightly contested game, and his team prevailed in the end.
Shortly after the team exited the locker room after taking a warm and relaxed shower, three suspicious looking guys were awaiting them by the team bus. One man wore his cap on backwards, with a white v-neck shirt. The other man standing to his left was a skinny asian with his hair spiked up rediculously high. The last man approached Conley, his beard was scruffy, his hair dishelveled, and in his right hand he held a metal rod.