by Peyton Bogue
“Even during. . .” Kai trails off, motioning in the air with his hand in a gesture that Sage can only assume means sex.
Sage feels his face heat up, but he nods. “Yeah.”
“Damn,” Kai whistles.
“I know. It’s just weird, Kai. It’s like he’s not in control of himself.”
“Should you come and stay with me?” Kai asks, concerned, mimicking Sage and crossing his arms petulantly. “Like, is this something where you shouldn’t be around him so that he doesn’t hurt you?”
Sage shakes his head. “No, it’s not like that. I’m not worried about me, Kai, I’m worried about him. He’s not dangerous to me, you know that. He’d hurt himself before he’d hurt me.”
Kai relents at that, relaxing. “Yeah, that’s true.”
“But I don’t want him to hurt himself,” Sage continues, shaking his head to rid himself of the anxiety that thought fills him with. “That’s what scares me. We both don’t know why he’s acting this way.”
“What are you guys going to do, then? Have him keep lashing out at you?” Kai asks, but Sage knows he’s just asking because he cares about the both of them, not because he’s trying to be negative.
“No. Rhys said he’s going to try and find out what’s wrong with his control. I think he’s a little freaked out by his behavior, and he doesn’t like that he’s worrying me about it,” Sage responds.
“I hope he does, man. The dude’s an Alpha werewolf. He could do some serious damage to someone if he doesn’t get himself under wraps soon, and that includes you, too, Sage,” Kai says, pointing his finger at Sage in a very ‘parent scolding their child’ type of way.
Sage sighs. “I know, Kai. He’s going to be okay. It’s Rhys.”
Kai echoes Sage’s sigh, uncrossing his arms and raising his hands to clap them loudly, shifting gears.
“Well, your ludicrous and wolfy personal life aside, Sage,” Kai says teasingly, reaching behind himself to grab his sandwich, “I’ve got more information on our ballistics.”
Sage rolls his eyes playfully, but grasps at the change in subject, asking, “Yeah? What did you find out?”
Kai gives him a sly grin. “Well, firstly, the ballistics guy already said that none of these bullets had been used in a U.S. case before, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t been used overseas somewhere. I had him run the bullets through the international ballistics database and the results came back restricted.”
Sage huffs. “How does that help us?”
“The techie called in a favor,” Kai replies, smug, taking another bite of his sandwich and swallowing before continuing. “Apparently, the techie has a friend working ballistics for the military and sent the report to him. The guy was then able to run the calibers through the military ballistics database."
“It’s certainly nice to have friends of friends in high places,” Sage says, nodding. “What did he find out?"
Kai finishes his sandwich, crumpling up the wrapper and throwing it under Sage’s desk into his wastebasket. When he moves, Sage catches sight of a manilla file on top of the desk, and Kai grabs it when he stands back up again, opening it up and handing it to Sage.
"The same weapon involved in our homicide was used in a crime in Tehran a month ago,” Kai says after he swallows the sandwich, pointing at the bullets.
"This gun gets around,” Sage whistles, skimming the words on the file. "What happened in Tehran?"
"United Sates Military supplies were stolen, and a special ops operative was killed."
Sage looks up and raises his eyebrows. “The plot thickens."
"Yeah, and then it thins out completely when you get to page two of that file,” Kai says, and Sage flips to the next page, only to find the words heavily marked out with black lines. "The report’s been heavily redacted."
"Yeah, I’ll say,” Sage scoffs. "The whole thing’s blacked out.”
“I don’t know what we’re going to do with this information, but at least we know that this gun has been used before,” Kai says, shrugging as he frowns.
“This case just keeps getting weirder,” Sage sighs, handing the file back to Kai, who tucks it under his arm and takes a sip of water from his lucky water bottle he’s also got sitting on Sage’s desk.
“Hey, Detectives,” Sage hears, and he glances up towards where Hazel is walking up to them, her lab coat pulled taut against her petite figure.
“Hey, player,” Kai shoots back at her, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Did you get a result on those hairs for us, Hazel?” Sage asks, nodding his head at her in acknowledgment.
“Sure did, hotshot,” Hazel replies, placing her hands on her hips. She looks smug. “I’ve analyzed the oxygen isotopes from local water supplies that left markers in Aldridge’s hair that have indicated where he’s been in the last three months.”
“Okay,” Sage says, waiting for her to continue.
“Each 0.44 millimeters of hair is basically a day in the life,” she continues. “And this guy has been to a lot of places in his five centimeters.”
She taps on the tablet in her hands, pulling something up, and turns it around for both Sage and Kai to look at.
What she shows them is actually a world map, and each press of her fingertips on the touchscreen highlights a path of destination on the map from the United States to multiple overseas countries as she continues, “This guy has been to Iraq, D.C., Israel, Germany, D.C. again, and Iran in just the last ninety days. And all of those places have a heavy traffic of firearm flow.”
Sage tilts his head to the side, deliberating. “So, he has traveled apart from what his expenses show.”
Kai fixes him with an ‘a-ha’ look, and Sage rolls his eyes. Kai isn’t right about everything.
“But there’s no official records of him going to these places. No airline tickets, no immunizations, no State Department records—nothing,” Sage says, shaking his head.
“So, his passport has never been stamped, but his body has been all over the world?” Hazel asks disbelievingly.
“Hey,” a voice says behind them, and all three of them turn around to see Mikalina. She looks extremely irritated and frustrated. “Kaelan, Tate, Kimura—my office. Now.”
She turns around without any further elaboration, her long red hair snapping around her shoulders. Kai and Sage share a look, a little concerned at the hard tone of her voice, but the three of them move to comply quickly, following her into her office.
When they enter, Sage’s hackles rise immediately when he sees two men in suits standing near her desk, and he moves towards the middle of Mikalina’s office with his arms crossed, his jaw hardening.
“Kaelan, Tate, Kimura—this is Agent Richards and Special-Agent-in-Charge Grayson. They’re with the New York field office of the FBI.”
Sage’s stomach immediately coils in irritation.
“We’re here to help you with the homicide of Steven Aldridge,” Agent Richards says, eying them all cautiously. Sage looks at him with a barely suppressed grimace. The agent has deep set eyes framed by dark hollow cheeks, and he holds his lanky arms to his sides tightly as he hunches over despite his tall frame, as if he’s trying to make himself smaller, like he’s used to being overlooked and underestimated. He hardly looks as if he could be out of college, let alone working for the FBI. He’s just a kid.
“You mean you’re here to take over the case from us,” Kai corrects the agent, his voice like venom.
“Not at all, Detectives,” Special-Agent-in-Charge Grayson says, giving them all a timid smile. He, at least, looks exactly what Sage would think a stereotypical Special Agent would look like. He’s clearly older than Richards; his dark hair is streaked with gray, and his tepid face reveals wrinkly laugh lines and crow’s feet at the edges of his brown eyes. He’s got a friendly face and relaxed posture, and Sage is momentarily thrown as he looks at the agent with narrowed eyes. Something about the way Grayson holds himself is familiar, as if he carries himself with the air of someon
e who’s been doing this for a while. It’s unsettling, how it hits Sage right in the chest that he recognizes that slightly monosyllabic voice. “This case is still under NYPD jurisdiction. We don’t want to interfere with your investigation. We’re just here to offer some assistance.”
“Assistance with what, exactly?” Hazel asks, holding her tablet to her chest.
“That, I’m afraid, is on a need-to-know basis,” Agent Richards replies, not unkindly. Who the hell is this kid? Sage thinks as he raises his eyebrows in slight shock.
“And who decides who needs to know?” Hazel bites back, undeterred.
“Anyway,” Agent Grayson says, clapping his hands in front of himself as he avoids Hazel’s question. Sage sees Hazel rolls her eyes. “We’re really excited to be working with you.
“Oh, yeah,” Kai scoffs, sarcastic, before smiling a mocking smile, “us, too.”
Mikalina gives him a scowl in warning, but Kai narrows his eyes at her, resilient.
“Grayson, as in Phil Grayson?” Sage asks in realization suddenly, his eyes snapping to the agent. Slight panic begins to bubble up inside of his chest. It’s been a long time since he’s thought about his times overseas, but he definitely remembers Phil Grayson.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Grayson responds, his eyes assessing Sage before extending his hand out politely in greeting. “Kaelan, is it?”
“James,” he supplies, moving to shake the agent’s hand as he speaks his given name. He hasn’t gone by his first name for his entire life, but Grayson would only ever know him as James Kaelan from his personnel file. No one except his mother and Phil Grayson have ever referred to him as James. “But I actually go by my middle name, Sage.”
“Oh,” Grayson says quietly, clarity dawning over his face. “Our paths have crossed before, Detective,” he says, smiling tentatively.
“Yes, sir. During that military investigation in Afghanistan.”
“Right,” Grayson responds, placing his hand back into his pocket. “It's great to see you again, Captain.”
Sage nods silently in response, and suddenly the dog tags resting in the center of his chest feel ice cold, and he becomes acutely aware that everyone in Mikalina’s office is staring at him.
Sage doesn’t make it a habit of wearing his dog tags that often. Sometimes, the reminder is too much for him to handle. Other times, he feels as if it’s almost disrespectful not to wear them. Lately, though, and for the last few weeks, ever since the Kell case, he’s been wearing them constantly. He doesn’t remember the last time he took them off. Maybe now, as Grayson gives him a slightly pinched look, he might need to take them off for a while.
Mikalina looks at him quizzically, shock evident in her expression, and Hazel is openly staring at him as if he’s grown two heads. Sage just looks back at them blankly. He can see the question in Mikalina’s eyes, like she wants to push but doesn’t know how far to go. Kai, at least, looks really sympathetic behind his own shock. He knows how much Sage struggles with fighting off his memories of Afghanistan.
Sage can’t explain himself right now. He can’t make himself think about those times again. Seeing Grayson has already made him panic slightly. If they make him talk about it, he might start to actually have a panic attack.
Thankfully, Richards interrupts the sight tension by clearing his throat, and Mikalina, Kai, and Hazel all snap their attention to him. Sage feels something in the pit of his stomach loosen slightly, and he takes a deep breath before he looks at Richards again.
“Okay, Lieutenant. We said that we’d discuss this case with you, so why have you brought in these detectives?” Agent Richards asks, moving to grab a black tablet from his briefcase while Grayson takes a seat in one of Mikalina’s empty chairs, his eyes carefully avoiding Sage’s.
“I’m not a detective,” Hazel tells Richards, grinning at the agent smugly.
“Exactly,” the agent huffs, indignant.
Mikalina takes a seat at her desk and laces her fingers on top of the hardwood, fixing the young agent with a stern look. “This is Detective Malakai Tate.” She points at Kai, who’s still looking at the two agents maliciously. “This is my Coroner and Forensics’ Expert, Hazel Kimura.” She gestures to Hazel, who gives the agents a wide smile. “And we’ve already established that this is Detective Sage Kaelan.” Her gaze snaps to Sage’s as she gives him a hesitant look. He just gives her a nod, and she continues, “Say what you want about this case being on a 'need-to-know’ basis, but these three individuals are the smartest and most stubborn policemen in all of New York City, and they’re not going to stop until they figure out who killed Steven Aldridge.”
Deafening silence overtakes the room as Richards gapes at Mikalina, flabbergasted as he shares a look with Grayson. Kai turns to Sage and mimics a mic dropping.
“So, if you’d like to continue with briefing us on this case, I’d greatly appreciate it,” Mikalina ends, giving the agent her patented glare.
The agent takes a deep breath and nods, taking a seat next to his partner.
“What’s going on here, Agents? Anything you’d like to share with the class?” Kai asks, moving to sit on the armrest of Mikalina’s sofa, impatient.
“My partner can be a little impolite, but he’s right, Agents. We’ve got a room full of guns, a missing body, and now the FBI at our door? Is this domestic terrorism?” Sage adds, snapping himself from his silence. He’s got a job to do. He can’t let his panic distract him.
“We have no reason to believe that Dr. Aldridge was ever a threat,” Richards starts, sighing.
“He was a ballistics consultant, right?” Sage asks, moving to lean against another doorway of Mikalina’s office as he takes another deep inhale. “Yours or the military’s?”
“What makes you say that?” Grayson asks, twisting in his seat so he can look at Sage.
“I didn’t say it,” Sage says, his eyes flickering to Hazel’s as he nods his head at her. “A strand of his hair did.”
The agents both look to Hazel, surprise evident in their gazes, and she lets them squirm a moment before saying, “For three months, he’s been jumping from D.C. to every artillery hotspot on the globe. He’s either in the mood for some unauthorized travel, or he’s helping you guys correctly purchase the best type of weapons.”
“We can’t really speak to that,” Richards says, shrugging his shoulders slightly.
“Can you speak to why the FBI is interested in his death?” Kai asks, and Sage can detect the sarcasm still lurking beneath his words even though he asks it somewhat politely.
“We’re more interested in the weapon that killed him,” Richards replies, unlocking the tablet in his hands and holding it up so they all can see.
On the tablet, there’s a picture of a large gun that looks Afghani to Sage’s eyes, but he’s never seen a weapon like this. It’s got a huge nozzle and trigger, and the loading clip is long and thick. It looks kind of like an AK-47, just smaller and probably more deadly.
“This is the EL-J46, manufactured in Germany, and currently used by U.S. troops in urban sweeps of Tehran,” Richards continues.
“It’s essentially an entry weapon,” Grayson adds, leaning against the arm of the chair. “And it’s got a lot of power. It has a systematic compact frame that allows our troops to go around corners easily and sweep stairwells faster. In short, it’s a bit of a beast.”
“How the hell did a weapon like that end up in Brooklyn?” Mikalina asks, pointing at the image of the gun.
“I’m afraid that’s classified, Lieutenant,” Richards says, closing the tablet and placing it back into his briefcase.
“Of course, it is,” Kai mutters under his breath, scoffing.
An awkward silence descends upon Mikalina’s office for a few moments before Hazel clears her throat, crosses her arms, and raises an eyebrow at the young agent.
“Out of curiosity, what year did you graduate from NYU?”
Richards looks at her, confused. “2018. How’d you know?”
“FBI recruiters are all over that place like flies on a rotting body,” Hazel says, waving her hand. “I just thought you looked a little young to be knowing such classified information.”
Sage bites down on his lip to stop himself from reacting and watches as Richards’s eyes narrow. “If you’re concerned with my age, Ms. Kimura, I promise you, I know what I'm doing,” he says.
“So do we,” Kai cuts in, standing. “Every suspicious dead body that winds up on the precinct’s door ends up with a pair of you guys. Most of the time, the cases we work together on go well. Hell, your resources and manpower sure make my job a lot easier.”
“And. . .the other times?” Richards asks, tilting his head.
“You guys lose interest and chase after the next, more gruesome murder, leaving us with a pretty shoddy chain of custody.”
“We have no intention of compromising your investigation, Detective Tate,” Grayson says, turning to give Kai another kind smile.
“And I have no intention of letting you,” Mikalina says, rising to her feet and placing her hands palm down on her desk as she leans forward on them, supporting her weight. “So, here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to pair up. Mixed doubles. My detectives here will get an FBI partner, which doesn’t mean you and Sage won’t be working together, Kai,” Mikalina sighs, eyeing Kai when he looks like he’s about to cut in and whine. “Sage, why don’t you take Agent Grayson?” she says, and Kai scoffs in response. Sage just eyes her blankly. He knows that she wouldn’t be assigning them together if she thought that Sage couldn’t handle it, but the thought of working with Grayson makes his stomach coil. He just sighs, nodding, and Mikalina continues, “You two can go back out to the cabin and re-scour the place. See if you find any evidence on where Aldridge’s body might be.” Sage nods again and stands. “Kai, you’ll be with Agent Richards, and I want you both to look more into the murder in Tehran. I want to know all about this EL-J46 gun. Hazel, go back and continue to work the blood, okay? We can all reconvene and share our findings,” Mikalina says, smiling at them. “I bet everyone will have something to share with the class when they get back.” She winks at Kai.