Different information about the painting has been floating through the black market, and every time we thought we had a lead; the painting turned out to be some poor forgery.

Okay, I have to admit that the criminals did a hell of a job in hiding their identities, and covering their tracks.

However, a few hours earlier, I received some information from one of our CIs in the black market. I was now on my way to a very dangerous area in New York, a territory that even put NYPD officials and FBI agents on edge, and there were strict orders to not go there without backup. Of course, most of the people in this area were homeless, junkies, criminals, and sometimes very unlucky lost tourists. It was also the place where most of the sales in the black market happened.

I parked my SUV and got out of it, I started checking place after place. Most of them were bars and the people there weren't very happy with the presence of the FBI. I got some information from the places I got in; however, they weren't that helpful or new. The last place I was visiting was a very dangerous territory that had a very unpleasant reputation. I sighed and decided to check it anyway, I was desperate for some useful information.

In front of the building, stood two huge muscled men who I was sure were armed, and I was proved right as they immediately put their hands on the guns that were strapped to their waists when they saw me walking their way, ready to pull them out at any second. Did my look scream trouble that much?

My hands automatically reached for my gun's holster, but I decided it was a bad idea so I didn't pull my gun out. I got out my FBI badge instead and flashed it at them.

"I'm a federal agent, you better take your hands off your guns. I'm not coming here for trouble," I said as calmly as I could.

They both shared a look before they took their hands off the guns. "What do you want?" one of them asked in a harsh tone. They probably had no problem with pissing off the FBI.

"I need to talk to your boss, and ask some questions," I told them as I returned my badge back into my pocket.

"Wait till I make a call," one of them said, getting his phone out. He started talking with someone, the other just stood there staring at me.

The one who was talking on the phone came back shortly and nodded to the other guy who opened the door for me with a snort, I gave him a bitter smile before I walked inside, they closed the door behind me.

I felt uncomfortable as I walked through the people there; most of them were drinking and the others were playing poker or discussing illegal business. They all gave me hatred glares as I walked past them.

I asked the bartender about the boss, and he pointed to a table where a man was sitting; a couple of women in very revealing clothes were seated on both of his sides.

"Agent Parker, FBI," I said, flashing my badge at him.

"To what do we owe the honor, Agent Parker?" the man asked as he took a sip of his cocktail, showing me that I wasn't welcomed here.

"I just need to ask a few questions," I started to say as I took a seat in front of him. "About the Corridor in the Asylum painting."

He looked at me interestingly before he spoke up. "Oh, that one had been causing a lot of trouble lately."

"Do you know anything about the seller or the buyer? The fence who might have been involved in the trade maybe?" I asked him with a poker face.

"I don't know the seller," the man answered, calmly.

"What about the buyer?" I asked, already filled with suspicion.

"Don't know about that either." The man smirked mischievously, and I knew for sure that something was off.

"May I know your name, sir?" I asked, looking at him in the eye.

"Do you have a warrant?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No," I answered truthfully, still maintaining eye contact with him.

"Then, you may not," the man said, harshly. "And, your time here is over. Please leave without causing any trouble." He dared to threaten me. Then, he waved at one of his men who came and stood next to me, crossing his arms on his chest, wanting to radiate a fearful vibe.

I wanted to take my gun out and start arresting all of them, but that wasn't going to be a very smart move in a place full of armed criminals, and I would probably end up dead. Yeah, I shouldn't have come here alone after all.

I gave the man in front of me a bitter smile before I stood up, then I made my way toward the bar's exit. Next, I went to my car and drove away.

><><><><><><

After that, I went to the bureau and rushed to the office, I asked our technical analysts to find me information about that man.

"I want his name, as soon as possible," I demanded firmly.

"What happened, Jake?" Luke asked, looking confused.

"I went to ask for some information about the case and I met a very suspicious man there," I answered.

"Where did you go?" Luke asked.

I swallowed hard. "That building," I answered him and he knew for sure what I meant. He wouldn't be happy with me as there were strict orders not to go there alone because of how dangerous that place was. A few agents and cops had lost their lives there.

"You went there alone, without any backup?" Luke yelled at me, delivering the whole office's attention toward us. He sighed before he continued. "You are such an idiot, you should be thankful to be alive right now."

"I am," I spoke up, calmly. "Now, I want to know that man's name."

Luke sighed and left me alone, informing me that I was a stubborn, hopeless case. I went to my office after that and rested my head on my chair. I needed to know more information about that man, he obviously knew something.

"Parker," Luke said as he entered my office a while later. He was using last names, that wasn't good.

"They got his name," Luke said, unpleasantly.

"And?" I asked him, impatiently.

"His name is Alexander Hunter," Luke said and my eyes widened, this man was infamously renowned in the black market, although nobody was able to tie any charges to him; he was absolutely dangerous and capable.

I took the new information and didn't say anything, already lost in thought. I have to know more information about that man, he seemed to know a lot, and he might know the buyer or actually be the buyer himself. I have to know more. No, I needed to know more.