Ok here is chapter 7. Enjoy :-D And don't forget to leave a review (They make me very very happy)

Chapter 7 Enter the FBI

Detective William Stevens stared at the mess in front of him in complete silence. A veteran detective in his early forties, he had seen worse. He didn't say a word as he walked around the apartment, brown eyes darting back and forth as he surveyed the scene. Silently he stepped around the body on the floor and stopped to watch the man currently dusting for prints on a nearby table. The man cringed slightly at the other's scrutiny of his work. Everyone else in the room went about their own work quickly and efficiently, making sure to give the detective plenty of space… as they all waited for the inevitable explosion to occur. It was well known to all of them that Detective Stevens had a violent temper and given the right circumstances would verbally lash out at anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path. The fact that Juanita Montoya, Steven's prime witness in his case against Armys Delgado, had disappeared, her apartment in shambles, and the end result of an apparent gunfight lying on the floor was enough to make all the police officers and Crime Scene Investigators wish they were somewhere else. Oddly enough the explosion they were all waiting for never happened. Instead, he turned and approached a tall young man in his early thirties, with light brown hair and blue eyes, who was currently writing something down on a pad of paper.

Agent John Ferrera swallowed hard as Stevens approached him then waited for the other man to speak. For a long moment Stevens pierced Ferrera with his cold gaze, without saying anything, and then, very calmly asked,

"What happened here?"

Ferrera hesitated, unsure of what to say. The wrong words could set off Stevens' infamous temper in a heartbeat.

He swallowed again. "I…I haven't had enough time to collect all the details sir. I just arrived here a few minutes ago." He said carefully. He didn't know why he addressed Stevens as "sir". Stevens should be the one explaining things to him, not frowning at him as he were a teenager who had spoken out of line, after all Ferrera was a member of the FBI and he had the authority over Stevens, even if Stevens was ten years his senior.

Stevens sighed, almost like he was wondering why he had wasted his time, then nodded and turned away. "It looks like a gunfight broke out…" Ferrera started.

Before he was even able to finish his sentence, he knew he had made a mistake. Stevens spun around and narrowed his eyes at Ferrera. Ferrera froze, not noticing the room had gone quiet and most of the people were now looking at him. He opened his mouth, hoping he could say something useful, but Stevens spoke first.

"Is that all you learned?" He asked quietly and calmly, but he had an edge in his voice like he was trying not to yell.

"Yes, sir." Ferrera said, trying to look eye to eye with the other man.

Stevens sighed again. "If that's all you have learned then I'm afraid you are not much use here. I think you should leave."

Ferrera frowned. He knew Stevens didn't like anyone in the FBI; especially the agents that he thought had taken credit for many of his cases. Agents like John Ferrera.

"I only just arrived Will, and I don't think my superiors would like it if I just left without gathering all the facts."

"You mean you don't want to leave until you have enough information to steal my case."

"Juanita Montoya is connected too closely with Armys Delgado. We can't allow Armys to get off again. Now, the FBI is officially taking over this case and…"

"Juanita Montoya is my witness, she's gone and it looks to me like Armys hired someone to get rid of her. This case is mine." Stevens started to walk away then stopped. "And don't ever call me Will again." He turned towards an officer standing nearby. "Ok Tom, enlighten me. What exactly happened here?"

"Sir, I must protest…" Ferrera said exasperated, interrupting the officer as he started to speak.

"Must you really?" Stevens asked patronizingly, looking at Ferrera as if he were a child that needed to be placated, but his words were full of sarcasm and disdain. "Because it really does annoy most people and it does absolutely no good when the person you are protesting to isn't listening."

Ferrera grimaced and, gathering up his courage said, "Will, I don't want to throw you completely off this case, but I can't have you getting in the way. Now, you can either cooperate or get yourself assigned to a desk job."

Stevens' lip twitched slightly "Do you even know anything about this case or did you just volunteer so you could feel special?"

"I know enough about the case, my superiors said you would fill me in on the rest."

"You're out of your mind."

"Maybe, but you still…"

"Alright, alright!" Stevens snarled, "Just step outside and give me a minute to talk to these guys."

"Step outside? Why?"

"Because I don't like you. Now get out."

Ferrera scowled, but complied. There was no use in staying really; if he stayed Stevens would simply make sure he didn't learn anything. That was Stevens alright. Even if he was taken off the case, Stevens would somehow make sure that Ferrera still came to him for information. Ferrera waited for over an hour before Stevens finally walked out. He walked right by Ferrera without so much as a glance and continued down the hall towards the lobby. Ferrera fell in step behind him, wanting to ask questions, but afraid of what Stevens might do.

"What do you already know about the case?" Stevens asked suddenly as he stepped out into the windy streets.

"Juanita Montoya, high- level player in the Italian Mafia, wants some sort of revenge against Armys Delgado and decides to come clean and help put him away."

"Is that it?" Stevens asked, frowning, "Surely you would know more than that."

Ferrera's face turned red. "That's all I was told. You know the rest, I assume?"

Stevens rolled his eyes, and then sighed in resignation. There was no use fighting anymore. The FBI had already taken his case, he might as well give Ferrera the information now and spare himself the trouble later.

"Juanita was the file- keeper for the Mafia. A lot of the files on the various assassins we've been able to get our hands on were written by her. She also had access to the various "projects" the Mafia was planning."

Stevens stopped by a black Sedan parked by the curb. He opened the front passenger side door and reached inside.

"Here, take this." He said, handing a black file folder to Ferrera. Ferrera took the folder and opened it. On the very front page was a picture of a young Portuguese woman in her mid twenties, with an olive complexion, shoulder length wavy black hair and dark brown eyes.

"I thought the Mafia didn't let non- Italians get so high up." Ferrera said as he studied the picture.

"They don't." Stevens said as he closed the car door and started walking away. "She had connections though. Her foster father, Nicholas, was pretty high up and was able to pull a few strings."

"Where are you going?" Ferrera asked suddenly, when he realized that Stevens was walking away from the apartment instead of back towards it.

"Coffee." Stevens mumbled.

"Ah."

They walked in silence for a minute or two when Ferrera remembered something Stevens had said.

"What did you say her father's name was?"

"Nicholas." And he's not her biological father, he's her adopted father."

Ferrera stopped walking. "Nicholas?" He asked incredulously, "Nicholas Montoya? You've got to be kidding me. I mean I realized they shared the same last name, but I didn't think they were related, especially after looking at that picture.

Stevens shook his head. How did the FBI get to hiring an idiot like John Ferrera? He thought. "Nicholas Montoya was the Mafia's number one assassin. I mean, this guy was one of the best." He said, "Somewhere along the line however, Nicholas did something that really pissed Armys off, we're not sure what exactly, but Armys had him executed. His foster daughter, Juanita, decides to pay him back by ruining his life. Well, as you can imagine Armys wasn't too happy about that. We now know what he planned to do about it. Oddly enough, we think that Mark Antony, Nicholas' biological son, is still working for Armys. Mark is the Mafia's main contact for their assassins. Why Armys hasn't killed him yet is beyond me, but then, Armys always was arrogant. He probably doesn't think of Mark as a threat."

Ferrera digested the information for a moment. "I'm confused." He said slowly.

"Surprise, Surprise." Stevens mumbled.

"I meant the name. Montoya? It doesn't sound like an Italian name."

"It isn't, and it isn't Nicholas' real last name either. He changed it, but we were never able to find out what his real last name was."

"Interesting choice though."

"I suppose." Stevens said carefully, suddenly very suspicious of Ferrera. The FBI wasn't stupid and they didn't simply send agents into a case without giving them all the information they had to offer. Ferrera should already know about Juanita, why didn't he?

"So, what made Juanita decide to come to us?" Ferrera asked casually.

That was too much for Stevens. "Ok, what the hell do you think you're doing?" he said fiercely, glaring down at the other man. Ferrera looked surprised.

"Excuse me?" He asked carefully, looking at Stevens as if he were insane.

"The FBI didn't give you this case did they?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean, you little shit. The FBI doesn't send agents out without giving them all the information they got, and you don't know a damn thing about this case. Now what the hell are you trying to pull?"

"Look Will, I know you want to believe I'm trying to steal your case, but you've got it all wrong."

Stevens crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Well then, enlighten me."

Ferrera swallowed hard, suddenly feeling very small.

"I…" he started.

"Detective Stevens!" A voice behind them called out.

Ferrera let out a sigh of relief. Thank heavens he hadn't had to answer! That definitely would have set off Stevens temper, and Ferrera had a feeling Stevens wouldn't have stopped with just a verbal attack.

"Detective Stevens!" The voice called out again.

Stevens threw one last deadly glare at Ferrera, and then turned around to face Officer Thomas White, a short thin man with fiery red hair, freckles and shifty green eyes, who looked more like a nerd in high- school then a police officer working to join the SWAT team. White was out of breath when he reached the other men, having had to run to catch up with them.

"Detective I think you should take a look at this." White said breathlessly.

"What is it?"

White beckoned with his hand and started to turn away. "It's easier to explain if I show you."

Steven nodded and started to follow White back to the apartment. Ferrera started to follow as well, but was stopped by Stevens.

"You, stay out of this." He growled.

"Will…"

You little shit! I told you not to call me that. Stay the hell out of this. This is NOT your case." Stevens snapped, finally starting to lose his temper. Then without another word he turned and walked away. This time Ferrera did not follow. Instead he stood there, gripping the file folder tightly in his left hand, the other hand balled into a tight fist. He glared furiously at Stevens receding back. He had never felt so humiliated. Stevens would pay for that.

"I hope you're fond of desk jobs," he growled quietly, "because that's all you're going to get for a long time."


Review Replies

SpadesJade: I know what you mean. That chapter was the hardest to write. It's the first time I got a severe case of writer block. I'm glad you liked the end of the chapter; I had a fun time writing it. Hope you liked this chapter and I'll be trying to update sooner, but I have a feeling that my computer problems are only beginning (I should really invest in a flash drive I think. Lol)

Spanish Inquisition: Hi, welcome to the story. I'm glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy the rest of the fic. (And if you have any constructive criticism please don't hesitate to tell me.) :-D

Strgazer: Hello :-D. Glad you like my fic. I hope you liked this chapter. The next chapter should be up soon (computer permitting. Lol)