Camshron hired a cab like a normal being strolling at night and got off infront of a small apartment.

By turning his back at the security cameras, he stepped inside the house yard.

The sharp tuxedo he wore had granted him a free pass from the cabbie getting skeptical at him.

Few cars were parked outside the small house.

Very unnatural.

Near the door, he spotted a motorbike which had missing number plate.

He saw light coming from the gap of the door.

After a minute of silence, he heard the men inside the room talking.

Are they armed? He was questioning himself. Camshron had heard metal clattering with each other.

Camshron clutched his gun and broke inside the house with a heavy kick on the door.

"Hands in the air. CIA Agent here." Camshron was scared.

The two Russian mobs didn’t waste any time to lift their hands.

They were empty.

"Forgiven but not forgotten." Camshron said, locking the door.

"You are even here?" Alexandre yelled, "We don’t remember doing you any harm."

"Do you think I would go this far for a government owned vehicle?" Camshron watched around, "It needs repair though."

Camshron's eyes fell on the door of another room.

"You consider illegal Russian immigrants as leprosy patients, don’t you?" asked Borris.

"I consider you idiots. I would have never stolen the bike if I were you." said Nathan, "I came here for your weapons."

"What weapons?" Alexandre raised his eyebrows.

"Firearms. Those which you guys are about to place to cartels in Texas and El Paso." Camshron said, and opened the cupboard.

Guns and rifles fell to his feet from inside.

"Hey! I will give you my personal firearms. Don’t touch those order stuff!" Borris bellowed.

Nathan picked two pistols from the pile of weapons. Under the rifles, he saw some grenades.

"Are you two involved in terrorism activities?" he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

"Some business requires explosion." Alexandre hasted to say.

"Yes, cartel jobs." Borris added, "Not terrorism-"

Camshron turned in lightening speed and fired bullets at them.

Both Russian goons lay on the couch with their foreheads penetrated by bullets.

"I would have left you two if these guns didn’t have silencer." Camshron talked with the dead.

Still alert, he moved to the door, twisted the knob open, and peeked inside.

He hid his gun as soon as he saw what was inside.

A shaken kid was staring at Nathan.

Camshron was pretty sure he had been witnessing everything through the keyhole.

"These are the first signs we are trained to root for." Camshron said by helping the kid to come out of the room, "Call 911. You are safe from kidnappers now."

Camshron left the shaken boy there, picked an Audi's key and headed for the parking lot.

When Camshron left, the kid called 911, "Someone came in my house and murdered my father as well as his friend."

It was not for the first time when Detective Nathan Camshron was walking on the same street where the dead man was once used to walk. He was taking the same air which the dead man used to take. And he was not taking air like MPD dogs were taking. Even a dog could find out his location by his weird prison smell. Street and air were really moist- perfect condition for dogs to detect any human smell.

He could not trust Les anymore. Les did for him as much as he could. If Camshron was going to be unsuccessful again, then Les would also be banged in a maximum security prison. Les' whole career was also at risk. Camshron had three extreme risks- Les' future, his own career and Norton's life risk. There were risks enough to make a person mentally disturbed. Camshron was a family man, Norton had two grandsons who didn’t even know who their grandfather was and Les was engaged just a month ago. Bur nothing would be more painful if Norton gets executed. His family would be a social misfit then after.

There is never matter between killer and investigator only in every case.

People could easily forget Camshron and Les, but couldn’t forget Norton. If Norton was executed, then nothing would be more regretful than it for him on the earth.

Camshron couldn’t stop. He had a grip on Glock. Grip was enough to smash a glass. He was ready for everything.

Ready for anything which could happen to him.

If a cop would have seen him, then there was no way except harming the cop.

And he was ready for it.

He was getting pessimistic. His mind was ringing police siren and with every step ahead, he thought he would be caught now.

Nathan's heart was pounding like it almost jumped out of his chest, smashing the ribs cage.

He was getting illusions of being caught. Everything was going on slowly for him. He even saw cars and people in slow motion. He walked for a few minutes silently as well as quick. Nobody was noticing him.

RUN!

His mind alarmed. So did he. He ran in speed of a taxi, pushing everything on his way. A six feet man can leap like a horse, on the other side he was a very fit man. He was a gold medalist runner in his high school days.

This all was wrong.

Nobody runs madly in 1 A.M if he is not an escaped prisoner. Nobody in USA would consider it a simple morning walk.

He ran for about two minutes, then after.

Camshron knew it would take about ten minutes to seal whole DC perimeters.

Camshron saw the same house which was surrounded by crime scene tapes five or six weeks ago. He saw the same house where once the dead man used to live, he saw the same parking area where the dead man used to park his car.

The public figure was disgusting, maybe the worst corrupt one.