There was a moment of stunned silence as Maitho tried to see if Brigid was merely acting a part, rather than be serious about her actions. The more he looked at her, the more he could see the focus in her eyes, the tightening of her jaw muscles, the steadiness of her hands as she pointed the gun at a terrified woman, and the relaxed but controlled posture of her shoulders.

Either she was a terrific actress, or she was genuinely capable of harming an innocent person.

Torture. The word sounded vile in Maitho’s head. It invaded his thoughts like an intruder trying to break into a house, and eventually succeeding. Right now, Brigid was probably trying to use fear as a motivator. But he wondered when mere intimidation might turn to torture.

No, he had to believe that despite all her faults, Brigid still had some shred of humanity left in her. He tried to convince himself that Jennifer deserved it. After all, hadn’t she ruined the lives of many? Hadn’t people ended their lives or fell into despair because of the fact that she tricked them into giving up their life savings or whatever money they had? Did she really deserve pity?

But those are the same thoughts that could lead to the justification of any action. If Brigid decided to take her act—if Maitho could call that—further, then can her actions be allowed?

He realized that he was probably thinking too deep. Sure, what she had done was unexpected. Doesn’t mean she deserved theories that were a victim of paranoia. Maitho wondered if his impending death was causing him to act in a state of panic. Guess he would have to think about that when he got some time for himself.

“I’m going to ask you questions,” said Brigid. “I expect the truth. Preferably before I decide to use this.” She waved the gun.

Bevan gave his team leader a look of concern, but did not interrupt her. Maitho supposed that he, along with the remaining member of the Celtic team, hoped that this was an act that they had to be part of. If that were the case, they didn’t want to interrupt.

Jennifer gave a meek little nod.

Brigid’s face inched closer to the seated woman. “Do you scam people, Jennifer?”

The woman opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. Her eyes shifted to Maitho, as though she was evaluating something. When she refocused on Brigid, she spoke, but with slight hesitation. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Deep down, Maitho hoped that her reaction had something to do with fear, and not guilt. He didn’t want Cray to be right.

The boom from the handgun was sudden.

“No,” yelled Bevan.

Maitho did not know what he expected to see. Perhaps an explosion of violence as blood splattered from the back of Jennifer’s head and onto the chair. Maybe a bullet hole. Something that told him that the woman’s life had come to a vicious end.

All he saw was Jennifer’s eyes wide open as her face was pointed up at Brigid. She sat motionless.

That was, except for the tremors breaking out all over her body.

Jennifer’s hands were in front of her face, as though she was trying to hold something. Her lower lip trembled. A whimper escaped her mouth. Tears were streaming down the corner of her eyes.

“Have you lost your mind?” said Bevan, his voice punctuated by shock.

Brigid didn’t respond. Instead, she snapped her fingers in front of the frightened woman’s face.

Jennifer met the Celtic team leader’s eyes.

“What do you do Jennifer? And you better answer that in the next few seconds or I’m pulling the trigger again. Not aiming at the chair I’m afraid.”

Jennifer nodded her head violently.

“What exactly do you do?” said Brigid.

There was a slight hesitation from Jennifer. Perhaps it was the last of her resolve desperately trying to fight back with the slightest of hopes that it might be victorious.

Brigid pulled back the hammer on the handgun and every bit of courage seemed to drain out of the other woman. She flinched at the sound, turning her head away as though it could somehow deflect any attack.

The gun turned to point at Jennifer’s neck, the muzzle an inch away from her skin. Her pupils moved downwards, hoping to see the weapon but it was clearly out of her sight.

“Brigid, a word,” said Bevan.

“The only words I’m going to hear are the ones she’s going to share,” said Brigid. “You were saying, Miss Yansay?”

“I manage a team. We look for buyers of our product.” The woman spoke.

“But that’s not all that you do.”

The woman shook her head. “No, there is more.”

“Go on.” Brigid pressed the muzzle of the gun under the other woman’s jaw and lifted her head.

“That’s not necessary,” said Maitho. His hand had instinctively risen, ready to jolt into action if required.

“Why don’t you pretend you are one of those wax museum figures? Stay still. Don’t talk. I’ll tell you how you are doing. Sounds great?” Brigid hadn’t even looked at Maitho when she spoke.

“Why don’t you at least pretend to act like a leader and not a thug?” countered Maitho.

This time, Brigid shifted her attention. Her eyes narrowed. “It seems we have much to talk about.”

Epona joined the conversation. “Thare has tae be another way.”

“When you become a leader.” Brigid paused. “If you become a leader, you can make your own decisions.”

Whatever was supposed to happen next, it would never be known. At that moment, the main door burst open and three figures entered the room. They were dressed the same; black suits, over black pants and sunglasses. A wire spiralled out of their collars and plugged into a hearing device in their ears. Their hands were outstretched in front of them, grasping a handgun as they closed in on Maitho and the others.

The man in the lead began issuing orders, his voice loud but firm. “FBI. Drop your weapons right now and step away from her.” They were talking about Jennifer.

Confusion clouded Maitho’s mind. Were these Cray’s men? Was the old man here to prevent Jennifer from spilling the truth? But that didn’t make sense. He was the one who wanted to reveal the truth in the first place.

The woman agent in the back advanced a few steps, her weapon shifting from Bevan to Epona. “Both of you, hands where I can see them.”

Bevan complied immediately, going so far as to raise his palms above the level of his head. Epona, on the other hand, simply placed her palms on either side of her waist. It was a sign of surrender, but not obedience.

“Hands up lady, or you’ll start losing fingers.” The woman smirked.

“FBI gae around shootin at people for na reason?” Epona countered, which obviously had an effect on the woman.

The third member of the trio, a man with close-cropped hair, stepped towards Brigid. “Let go of her right now. I won’t be repeating myself.”

The response from Brigid came in the form of a stare-down. There was a growing conflict on her face as her nostrils flared and her eyes held a simmering fury underneath. For a few seconds, it almost seemed as though she would simply point the gun at the agent and pull the trigger. Consequences be damned.

Instead, she raised her hands shoulder level, one of them still holding the gun.

“Step away from the woman and drop your weapon,” close-cropped instructed. Brigid took a couple of steps back and complied, tossing the gun to the side.

The lead agent of the trio had his weapon trained at Maitho’s head. “Do you need a special announcement? Get your hands up where I can see them.”

“You can see them right here,” said Maitho, turning his palms to face the agent.

“Raise them anyway.”

Maitho did. The agent darted his eyes to one side, in the direction of Jennifer, before refocusing. It was a quick move, enough to possibly give him some kind of confirmation.

“Miss Yansay,” he said. “Could you please walk towards me?”

Jennifer needed no further encouragement. She must have been waiting to free herself. She practically jumped off the chair as she darted past Maitho and stood behind the agent.

“Juliet,” said the lead agent. “Accompany Miss Yansay to the parking lot.”

The female agent began backing away towards the apartment’s entrance. She used one hand to push Jennifer to stand behind her, at no point shifting the gun’s aim from pointing in the general direction of Bevan and Epona.

“Open the door and step out,” said the female agent. Jennifer complied and exited the apartment. The agent followed her.

There were only two agents in the room. The leader had put some space between himself and the Guardians. Both agents stood side-by-side, a mere few inches between the tips of their shoulders. Maitho knew that they were making sure that they could cover a wide area of the room. At the same time, they didn’t want to accidentally come in each other’s way.

These were trained professionals. It was easy to see that they belonged to a federal agency. Yet there was something off about them. Maitho couldn’t put his finger on the idea.

“Aren’t you going to show us your badges?” said Brigid.

She was right. They hadn’t identified themselves yet. While it may seem like a trivial observation, all law enforcement should identify themselves when asked. This ensures that they are indeed who they are.

The men began backing away. “Stay where you are and no one gets hurt.” He hadn’t provided a direct answer.

“You are not the FBI, are you?” said Brigid.

“Don’t do anything stupid, lady.”

“Who do you work for?”

“You do understand what it means to not move, right?”

At that moment, a horse materialized behind the duo and blew a soft snort. The leader’s reaction was quick, fueled by taught nerves and a hypercharged fight-or-flight response. He turned around and fired two shots in quick succession. Then lowered his gun as he stared slack-jawed at the horse disappearing into a mist.

That was all the opportunity Bevan needed. He leaped forward, stopping in front of close-cropped. The agent moved his gun to aim, but he couldn’t do anything past that.

Bevan gripped the man's gun and squeezed. It might as well have been that the weapon was made out of paper. It was crushed without any resistance, a display of the Guardian’s sheer power.

The lead agent turned around, his weapon already held ready to fire. He never got the chance.

Bevan used his palm to nudge the lead agent on the shoulder. The move did not contain a lot of power. But it still tossed the lead agent into the air. He flew towards the wall and crashed into it, knocking off some of the pictures there. He landed on the ground face-down.

While the lead agent was still in the air, Bevan grippeed the collar of close-cropped, tossing him to the side. The agent fell on top of the coffee table, a gasp escaping his lips.

“Keep them down,” said Bevan, rushing out of the apartment.

Epona grabbed the lead agent’s gun and pressed the muzzle to his head. “Ah wad stay thare if ye value yer life e'en a little bit.”

Brigid had retrieved her handgun and had it pointed at the other agent. Close-cropped looked up at her and simply chose to not move.

Bevan reentered the apartment. He looked at Maitho. “They are almost at the lowest level. I’m going to try and stop them outside.”

His words made no sense. Outside? What did that mean?

The answer came soon enough. Bevan walked towards the balcony. The glass doors were closed, but he didn’t stop to open them. He simply bent low and leaped forward, using his shoulder as a battering ram.

Glass exploded outwards as Bevan crashed through the door. He stopped on the other side and peered over the parapet, glass raining around him.

Maitho walked up to him. “You’re going to jump over?”

Bevan turned his head around. “It’s the only way. Can you chase them using the stairs? I want to make sure that we don’t miss them.”

Maitho nodded. The Celtic Guardian returned the gesture. Without warning, he hoisted himself over the parapet and dropped to the other side.

When Maitho looked down, Bevan was already in the air, his shirt flapping behind him like the fallen wings of a bruised creature. His hands were outstretched on either side of him. The whole scene was reminiscent of the time he had leaped into the alleyway from the top of the building. The only difference was that Maitho was looking at the descending figure from a top-down perspective, rather than looking up from below.

Bevan could not wholly control his trajectory. He landed on the roof of a car, bending it inwards and causing the windows to shatter outwards, shooting pieces of glass out. He recovered without delay, dropping to the asphalt road. He looked one way and then the other before disappearing into the building.

Maitho ran outside the apartment. He noticed that Epona had already bound the lead agent’s hands with his own tie. He ran past her, exiting the apartment and looking in the direction of the elevators. He sped past them, but not before pressing the call button. If there were more agents, then he didn’t want to give them a chance to catch an easy ride upstairs.

He reached the emergency stairs and opened the door. He hoped he wasn’t too late to catch up to Jennifer.

She was the only one right now who probably held a lot of answers.