**
It was true—heaven had a way, yet he chose to tread down the path to hell. The man clearly feared their actions being exposed, prompting him to investigate whether any evidence was left behind while also seeking answers for Billy Russo's death.
Though Russo's body had been burned, a postmortem examination could easily reveal the ordeals he'd endured. However, the autopsy had yet to begin, as forensic pathologists in America were scarce and overwhelmed by the multitude of homicides. The coroner's office was backed up.
William Roslin, growing impatient, found himself at an impasse. Being a CIA agent gave him no advantage with the NYPD, as they had little regard for the Agency's domestic authority. Despite being mid-level CIA, in New York, that meant nothing—his agency had no domestic law enforcement rights, and he couldn't take over the investigation.
Roslin was caught in a dilemma, giving Link and Frank the opportunity they needed.
---
The following morning, after Jessica left the apartment, Link called Frank over. Frank arrived on foot since his previous vehicle—stolen—had already been disposed of.
As they got into Link's SUV, Frank looked curiously at the small arsenal in the back. "Is this all yours?" he asked in surprise.
"Yeah," Link nodded, driving. "My public cover was as a professional gambler. I've been in high-stakes games before, and the name they gave me out there was 'Reaper.' I'm a crack shot and deadly with knives."
"The agency gave me this SUV—it's a mobile armory. All the weapons you see here are officially issued to me."
"Of course, all of this is logged, so I used throwing knives yesterday—easier to retrieve, leaves fewer traces."
Frank nodded in understanding. "Got it. I've got plenty of military-grade weapons if you need any."
"Don't worry, I won't hesitate to take you up on that," Link grinned. "I did help you out a lot, after all. Anyway, Roslin's in New York now. He's here for Russo's case but waiting on the autopsy."
"I've got his location. We'll grab him, but do you have a place to take him?"
"Plenty. New York's full of abandoned factories. We can easily find one," Frank replied. "But how do we snatch him up?"
"He'll be on guard, so it won't be easy to take him quietly."
"Don't worry about that. I've got it covered," Link assured him. "You just stay in the car. Don't let him see you. I'll handle the rest."
Before long, they reached the hotel where William Roslin was staying. Link observed from a distance as Roslin prepared to head out.
Link remained in the vehicle while Frank, seated in the back with a gun at the ready, waited. Using his X-ray vision, Link tracked Roslin's movements. As Roslin exited the hotel, Link got out of the car and approached him directly.
"Agent William Roslin?" Link blocked his path and spoke.
Roslin, who had come alone, looked at him warily. Though he was mid-level CIA, his connection to Billy Russo had to be kept secret, which meant he couldn't afford attention.
"Who are you?" Roslin asked defensively.
Link flashed his badge. "FBI. We need to talk about Billy Russo."
"I don't think we have anything to discuss," Roslin shot back, unwilling to engage.
"Is that so?" Link smiled, pressing. "Then what brings a CIA agent here to investigate his death? Does it have something to do with your operations in the Middle East?"
At the mention of that, Roslin's expression changed. He realized he couldn't brush this off. "We had some collaboration overseas," he finally said, his tone measured. "But I'm here in a personal capacity. And what happened overseas is outside your jurisdiction."
"True." Link nodded. "But are you sure all of this only happened overseas?"
"This matter requires your cooperation. If this gets ugly, we won't be playing nice anymore."
Roslin started to deny further, but Link cut him off. "The body. Do I need to say more?"
"You brought things back to the States, so now it falls under our jurisdiction."
Roslin instinctively glanced around, finding nothing out of the ordinary. He looked back at Link, growing more nervous. "So what, you're investigating me now?"
"Not yet," Link replied coolly. "This operation wasn't something you could have pulled off alone. How far we go will depend on what my superiors decide."
Roslin frowned deeply, the unease creeping in. He felt himself starting to lose control of the situation—exactly as Link had planned.
The area Link had chosen for this confrontation was devoid of security cameras, something he'd scoped out as soon as he parked. He knew the hotel had cameras inside, so he hadn't entered to confront Roslin there.
There was no rush. Link knew Roslin couldn't stay cooped up in the hotel forever—he had to keep pushing for the autopsy.
And now, Link was wearing him down, using the gravity of the situation to chip away at Roslin's mental defenses, leading him toward the outcome he wanted.
Judging that Roslin was nearly at the breaking point, Link spoke again. "Why don't you come with us?"
"Billy Russo's body was retrieved last night. The autopsy's already been conducted. His final moments… weren't pleasant."
"What?" Roslin's anxiety spiked.
"Come with us and see for yourself. You can have a copy of the report, but we'll need something in exchange," Link's voice took on a more transactional tone. "Whether it's a deal between us or something for higher-ups, that's not our call to make."
"And of course, the real issue is who was behind this and what intelligence was gained. That's both of our jobs."
Roslin hesitated before finally nodding. "Fine. I'll come. But I want to see the report first."
"No problem. Just don't expect to learn much from the methods used. It was all done purely out of rage," Link said as he led the way, keeping up the small talk to distract Roslin as they walked.
Check out my ko-fi for more advanced chapters at ko-fi.com/rookie99
________________________________________
I hope you're enjoying the story so far! If you're liking it, please consider leaving a review and dropping a Power Stone. Your feedback and support mean a lot to me and help keep the story going.
(End of Chapter)