Groaning, I threw another now fully red napkin in the trash bin.

I was trying to scrub off the blood that I was covered in from my attempt to rescue the hatchet man, but it was to no avail. I decided to give up on the cleaning process for it had proved to be only a waste of time.

Letting out another sigh, I glimpsed at myself in the mirror. I looked like hell, but that was totally justifiable as it was only a few hours after being so close to getting assassinated.

I splashed some water on my face and pulled my dark-brown hair up in a bun before I walked out of the bathroom.

The scent of antiseptic and bleach filled my nostrils as I walked through the long corridor of the hospital. I noticed that people were staring at me with a suspicious look, but I couldn't really blame them. My clothes were soaked in blood, and I had a gun strapped to my waist. I didn't really have the FBI agent impression around me right now. Instead, I looked like a psychopath who was about to commit mass murder.

I finally arrived at the waiting room where Liam was waiting. He was on his phone, pacing back and forth as he talked with the person on the other end of the line. I sat on one of the chairs and waited for him to finish.

I noticed a doctor walking into the room. I recognized the look on his face. It was a look even we often used when we informed someone about the loss of their loved ones. I watched as he approached an elderly couple who were holding hands. He started talking to them. It didn't take much time before the woman clasped her hands over her mouth and started crying as her husband embraced her in a hug.

I wondered who they had lost.

"That was Craven," Liam spoke up, grabbing my attention to him. "He ran the shooter's DNA and found him in the system. He has all the information we need, and he's on his way here as we speak."

"Good," I said with a slight nod.

"Hey, you can go home, take a shower, and change your clothes if you want," Liam suggested. "There are enough police officers here to make sure that prick stays where he's supposed to be."

"No, I will wait." I shook my head, then I regarded him thoughtfully. "Who do you think might be behind what happened?"

For one, I knew it was definitely linked to the case, and it gave me a feeling that we were getting close to something important. Something they were so scared it might see the light of day that they had attempted to kill two federal agents over it.

"I don't know." He sighed, sinking into the chair beside me. "But I guess we will figure out soon enough. We're ahead of them, this time."

I nodded, saying nothing. I kept staring at nothing in particular. While Liam leaned back in his chair and rested the back of his head against the wall. The day had completely burned us out.

Silence engulfed the room until another doctor entered the room and approached us.

"The patient is now out of surgery. The bullet hadn't damaged any vital organs; we were able to remove it without any severe complications," he informed us.

"When can we question him?" Liam asked.

"He's still under anesthesia. You can talk to him after he wakes up," the doctor answered.

We thanked him before he left. Then from afar, we noticed Ian walking toward us, and to my surprise, he had Wyatt with him.

"What's he doing here?" Liam asked, referring to Wyatt.

"I don't know, but it can't be good." I shrugged. Wyatt had a solid look on his face, so I couldn't read his expression.

We stood up to meet them when they reached the waiting room.

"I'm glad both of you are okay," Wyatt began, and then I saw him staring at the blood on my clothes. "Alex, are you hurt?"

"No, that's not my blood," I replied quickly. "I shot one of the two gunmen, but it wasn't fatal. I was able to keep him stable until the medics arrived."

"And how's he now?" Ian asked.

"He's out of surgery. We are waiting for him to wake up so we can interrogate him," Liam answered.

I noticed a sudden change in Wyatt's expression, but it was quick, so I couldn't tell exactly what had induced it.

"Here's the file you asked for. It has all the information I could find," Ian said, handing Liam a thick file. "His name is Ronan Martinez."

Liam thanked Ian and took the file from him. It pleased me that the atmosphere between them wasn't as tense as it used to be.

"Alex, can I talk to you for a second?" Wyatt addressed me.

I nodded and started walking a little further alongside him. "What is it you needed to talk about, sir?" I asked when we were far enough from Liam and Ian so they couldn't hear us.

"Alex, you need to step off this case," he said, and my eyes widened a little.

"What? No. We are finally one step closer to the truth. Whoever was behind this failed miserably today. That man can lead us to them," I argued, my tone getting higher with every word coming out of my mouth.

"Alex, this case became so dangerous, and I can't stand still and watch the past repeating itself with you," he retorted, looking at me sternly.

I breathed heavily as the meaning behind his words was making me uneasy. "Sir, we all walk out of our homes every day, not knowing for sure if we will return home unscathed. This job is always dangerous."

Meeting his eyes evenly, I continued. "I'm really grateful for your concern, but I don't need anybody to tell me what to do with my life. I'm very capable of protecting and taking care of myself."

He scoffed. "You're so stubborn, just like your father. But watch out, Alex, that can be the end of you as it was for him. Do you think he'd be happy to see you walking down the same path that had gotten him killed?"

His words sounded more like a threat, and that made me flare with anger. I clutched my fists and breathed heavily. I was about to say something to him, but Liam approached us and interrupted me.

"Alex, he's awake," Liam told me.

"Excuse me," I said to Wyatt and didn't wait for his response as I quickly walked away, brushing past Liam, who was eying the situation carefully.

"What happened with Wyatt?" Liam asked, walking beside me.

"Never mind," I dismissed, not wanting to talk about it. I looked at the shooter's file. "Let's just focus on this son of a bitch for now."

Liam nodded, and I was thankful that he didn't press the issue.

We walked to the shooter's room. It had two officers waiting in front of it. Liam and I shared a look before he opened the door and we walked inside.

He jerked upright when he saw us, but his wrists refused to move, metal digging into his skin as both of his hands were cuffed to the bed's railing.

"Ronan Martinez, isn't it?" Liam asked, radiating an intimidating vibe.

He seemed nervous that we knew his name, even though he tried hard not to show it.

"So, who is your partner, and where can we find him?" Liam asked again, but the man remained silent.

I stepped into the picture. "Oh, it seems like you have a hard time talking, do you?" I asked, looking at him in disgust.

"Oh, let's see what we have here." I opened his file and pretended to read through it. "Hmm, interesting. It says that your wife died a year ago and that you have a little daughter. I'm wondering what's going to happen to her after you are gone," I continued, trying to push his buttons.

"My daughter stays out of this," he hissed at me.

I smirked, knowing that I had gotten under his skin. I rarely played bad cop, but I was good at it whenever I did. "Well, if you want to protect her, all you have to do is tell us everything you know about your partner and your boss," I said, crossing my arms together.

He jeered. "You don't get it, do you?" he asked, and I raised an eyebrow in return. "If I opened my mouth, I would be signing a death contract with the Grim Reaper."

Liam clenched his fist as he made it closer to Martinez. "And don't you realize that you have just murdered an innocent man and tried to kill two federal agents? You will be sent to a super-maximum-security prison for the rest of your life, and your daughter will be placed in a foster home. You will never see her again. I can assure you we will do everything in our power to make sure your life will be a living hell unless you cooperate."

"And I told you if I do say anything, my daughter and I will be as good as dead," Martinez told Liam.

"What if we make you a deal?" I suggested, grabbing the attention of both Martinez and Liam.

He seemed to be interested in what I said as he concentrated his gaze on me.

"You tell us what you know, and we will offer you and your daughter protection. We can get you and your daughter into the witness protection program. You'll be provided with new identities, so nobody will be able to track both of you," I said. "The Marshals will protect your daughter, and she can visit you weekly in prison."

He looked like he was running my offer in his head, but he seemed hesitant.

"Tick, Tock, we don't have the whole day here. Are you in or not?" I asked, pushing him to say something.

"Yes," he said with a defeated sigh.

"Good," I said, a little smirk on my face.

"Who was the one behind this?" Liam asked, crossing his arms.

"Seth Mancini," he muttered so quietly that we could barely hear him.

My eyes widened a fraction as I looked at Liam. We both shared a knowing look before rushing out of the room.

Martinez just provided us with everything we needed to hold Mancini accountable. And we knew we needed to catch him before he could get any chance to disappear...