Always Standing Steady

Constantly Do Sides Change

071815SJUL16: July 7, 2016. 1815. Topeka, Kansas, United States of America.

Isabella got the call about a shooting in a park a few minutes after Ezra got a call from his wife. There were three things that he knew about Aridane Gallen: the first, she would light the world on fire if she thought it was right; the second, she could flee and run and never, ever be caught; the third, he was with her until the very end. Till death would they part.

That was why he didn't ask her why. He fled to the safe house to clear it out before the cops caught on and came after them. Him and Nazirah packed up everything, wiped the place down, and left it looking as good as new. Then, with everything all of them owned in the back of the car, they met their team at the inconspicuous hotel that Ari and Sicily had checked into.

Ezra spoke to Ari on the phone as Nazirah drove. "We have a location for them," Ari told him. "I think it is real; Will was definitely telling me the truth."

"People do that when they beg for their life," Ezra agreed.

"We need to report back to Angelus, but she is going to send some of her official people to handle the rest."

"And then all this gets trapped in the red tape, never to be cut free. Or maybe Angelus tries to use them to get to more terrorists and just creates the next Daesh somewhere in the bombings," Ezra agreed.

"Exactly, we have to do this ourselves," Ari replied. That steel in her voice made him want to run to her.

"I'll call in my people," Ezra promised, "and we'll do this properly."

"Okay," Ari murmured, that softness returning to her voice, "I'll have Diego call Angelus before we move in. He's enough of a good soldier for her to trust him; by the time she gets her people in, we can be done and gone."

Nazirah pulled out in front of the hotel. "We're here. I'll see you in a few minutes."

Isabella stared at Will's body. That righteous part of her that made her such a good cop and an even better person seemed to have died. She wished she could be angry that he was dead, but all her mind could tell her was that it was for the greater good. Cavana appeared at her shoulder; he was hesitant and cautious just as cops were supposed to be when they had to be gentle around someone who had experienced a loss. She hated that he was doing this to her.

Cavana broke the news because someone had to and the department had agreed that he was the kindest of them all, "witnesses say that a redhead with prosthetic legs cuffed him to that bench then shot him when the bomb didn't blow. She wasn't alone either, she-"

"Her name is Sicily Johnson," Isabella whispered it like a confession. "The woman who shot him is Ariadne Gallen. Ezra Khatib, Diego Oggs, and Nazirah Rahan are accessories to the murder. Go talk to the judge, I want a warrant for Ari Gallen's arrest on my desk in two hours. Also, call in the SWAT team. We can't go up against these guys, but they can. I want all five of them in a holding cell by midnight tonight."

"Excuse me for asking: Isn't Ari Gallen your sister?" Cavana asked.

"She is, and she just committed a murder. And I know she is not done yet. Get me that warrant. I can't save her from this, but I can stop her from making a huge mistake."

Isabella nodded to the coroner and the bomb squad to take over with the body. Thankfully, her jurisdiction was smart enough to not bag a body with a live bomb on it. For people who normally had to deal with dud fireworks, the bomb squad was surprisingly good at their job. She left the body where it was to get some distance from the crime scene--also from Cavana; however, he was not easy to shake.