A Bullet Through A Flock Of Doves

Eighteen - Another Knife In My Hands

Gerard had known it would happen eventually, but he was still a little miffed when he received a call two days later from Patrick Stump, telling him he had an assignment.

Frank was asleep in the bed as usual, facing away from Gerard. Still, he moved to the next room to prevent the other from hearing any of their conversation. He already knew too much.

Closing the door and pressing the phone to his ear again, Gerard said shortly, "Stump. What is it now?"

"Brian Schechter."

"What about him?"

"He was one of the officials involved in your brother's custody."

"They're still holding him?" Gerard was surprised, and more than a little angry. Hell, they probably thought he knew something about all this. But fuck, Mikey didn't. He was of no use to them, and yet he was still being held against his will.

"Yes. But we don't know where."

Everything was beginning to make sense. "And Schechter does."

"Yes."

"You want me to interrogate him? Where do I find him?"

"We took the liberty of capturing him already. We don't want you to be...incarcerated again. Very inconvenient, you know."

"Right," Gerard said through gritted teeth. "My death sentence was terribly inconvenient."

Stump ignored his snarky remark and continued to say, "We're at the Third."

"The one with the big basement?"

"Yes."

"Any particular time I should come?"

"Now would be best. You know what to bring."

"Fine."

The line went dead and Gerard pocketed his cell heavily, cracking open the door and looking back at Frank. He still appeared to be passed out. Gerard rolled his eyes and walked to the bed, shaking him awake. Frank stirred and blinked, narrowing his eyes at Gerard when he saw him. "What? I'm trying to sleep over here."

"I'm going out on...business." Frank's eyes widened.

"I want to come with you."

"No, Frank. It doesn't concern you."

"But-"

"I said no. I'll be back soon enough. If anyone knocks or comes in, I want you to hide and don't answer it."

"You sound like an overprotective mom."

Gerard glared at him. "That was an order, Frank. I'm serious. Unless you have a death wish-"

"Okay, I got it," Frank hissed, crossing his arms. "Just go if it's so important."

Gerard stalked away, pausing in front of the closet and then taking down a very specific knife. It was a knife Frank surely recognized. He tucked it into the folds of his jacket, along with a holstered handgun, and ignoring Frank's wondering gaze, left the room, and then the apartment.

xoxoxo

Gerard drove there because, okay, he was a little paranoid to be on a public bus with two concealed weapons and anyone on that bus could be dangerous. He'd learned not to trust, well, anyone, and so preferred to travel and do almost everything by himself.

The Third was a headquarters, and there were plenty other like it, though, as Gerard had said, this one had a big basement. That, he was almost entirely sure, was where little Schechter was.