A/N: So I revamped and revived this one from another forum. I think it works well in The Walking Dead AU. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Luciferian All-Seeing Eye

Atlanta PD Detectives Daryl Dixon and Rick Grimes surveyed the carnage in the abandoned warehouse. Seven dead. Of those seven, only one stood out, and only because it made no sense. The APD Gang Unit confirmed, four dead Surenos and two dead STK's. Not surprising since gang related violence was nothing new in Southeast Atlanta. It was the young blonde woman, however, dead in the corner that didn't fit. Red and raised ligature marks marred her wrists and ankles. She wore a sparkly gold cocktail dress and heavy makeup, black mascara streaks stained her cheeks in tracts. "Cause 'a death," Daryl questioned as he skulked around the body.

"ME's guessin' the bullet caught the heart. Small caliber. Close range. Said he'd let us know if anything changes." Rick watched his partner, silent and intent, knowing he heard even though he made no response. "A lot 'a cuts and bruises on her legs and arms."

"Mmmm," was Daryl's only response.

"Hey Dixon!," Michonne called from the back of the warehouse. Daryl looked up to see Michonne calling him over with a wave.

Rick pocketed his notebook and fell in step with Daryl. "What are you thinkin' on this one," Rick asked as they made their way to Michonne.

"Don't know yet," Daryl scowled, "but that girl was tortured."

Rick and Daryl met Michonne in front of a black metal door hidden in the back corner of the warehouse. Detective Michonne Shumpert had been with The Violent Crimes unit for six years, longer than any of them. She had seen as much as the next detective, but rarely seemed to let things effect her. She was solid, and Daryl respected her. The look on her face when her fellow detectives reached her caused them both to pull up short with concern. "You need to see this," she said, voice thick with warning as she opened the door and allowed the men to pass.

"What the hell?" Rick whispered as he surveyed the scene in front of him. With narrowed eyes, Daryl walked the perimeter of the small, square concrete room. The walls were stained with blood splatter, some patches dark and aged, others still thin and fresh. The room smelled wet with sweat and something else, yet to be identified. There was a drain in the center of the room over which hung a large metal hook on a thick swinging chain. On the far wall, two, tethered iron manacles lay hauntingly empty.

"That hook's meant to hold a motor," Daryl mumbled.

"Think this must be where they kept her," Rick reasoned.

"There's more," Michonne said, her voice muted with disgust.

They crossed the room and followed her into a small storage closet where Michonne's partner, Detective Glenn Rhee stood waiting. There in the small, rectangular space, stainless steel instruments, meticulously kept, hung from a peg board along the wall. The metal tools were immaculate as if they were on display. A narrow work bench housed a sonic instrument cleaner and a stack of shop towels. The four detectives each surveyed the room and its contents trying to make sense of what lay before them. Rick broke the heavy silence. "How in the hell does this fit with what happened out there?"

"Dun know," Daryl answered as he pulled on latex gloves and picked up what appeared to be a surgical instrument of some kind. It was sharp and flat on one end, almost like a bladed, flathead screw driver. His eyes trailed over the array of instruments seeking to understand what it was they were looking at. A cold chill ran down his spine.

"Look at this," Glenn said from the deepest part of the brightly lit closet. "It's a branding tool, for leather or wood." He held it out for his fellow detectives to inspect.

Daryl took the tool from Glenn and studied the working end. " 'S been used... Repeatedly, but that ain't wood or leather," he said as he pulled something from the grooves of the brand and placed it in a plastic bag. He passed the iron to Rick.

"What the hell," Rick intimated again. "The brand is shaped like an eye?"

" 'S the Luciferian all-seeing eye." He knew they were staring at him before he even lifted his gaze to peer through the thick fringe of his bangs. His three fellow detectives were looking at him as if he had just grown an extra head. "What?" he snapped. "I can't drop some knowledge? It's the same as what's on the back of a one dollar bill. You know, the eye in the sky. Looks like is floatin' over the pyramid?

Rick pulled a single from his wallet and inspected the bill. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he knew better than to comment. Daryl rarely spoke, but when he did, he never failed to impress. "Glenn, see if you can get a hit on any crimes involving branding. I know it's a long shot but see what you can find." Glenn nodded, always eager to help. He had been with Violent Crimes for less than a year, but in that time, he had more than proven himself capable.

Further inspection of the warehouse yielded no more clues as to what might connect six dead gang-bangers to the pretty blonde in the corner.

Rick found Daryl kneeling next to the body again, his usual deep scowl in place. "I'm gonna' have Michonne take the photos of the six D.B.'s back to the office and run 'em through facial rec. See what she can find."

"Mmm," Daryl grunted. "Have her talk to the gang unit too. See if she can find out what's hapnin' between the Surenos and the STK's these days."

On their way out, Michonne saw two men in suits flash their badges and cross the police tape. "Shit," she whispered catching Glenn's attention. "Feds"

Daryl and Rick noticed them too as they entered the warehouse. One stopped to greet and gather information from the APD officer stationed near the front, the other made himself at home in the detectives' crime scene. Daryl bristled at the intrusion and shot past Rick, heading straight for the suit. "Daryl... Daryl!" Rick called wearily, recognizing the set in Daryl's jaw. He sighed and rolled his eyes as his friend politely ignored him.

"Sumpin' I can help you with?" Daryl growled, feet spread wide in a defensive stance, arms crossed over his chest.

"I doubt it," suit number one articulated as he pushed past Daryl, further into the warehouse.

"Hey," Daryl snapped and spun the guy sharply around on his heels. A shoving match ensued complete with yelling, posturing, and pointing. Rick and suit number two managed to pull the men apart before any real damage was done. Suit number two sent suit number one flying with a hard push and a forceful reprimand. "You better keep him on a leash!" Daryl yelled from behind Rick who had positioned himself between Daryl and the calmer of the two suits. Rick grabbed Daryl by the front of his shirt and shot him a look. Daryl sucked in a steadying breath and started pacing behind Rick like a caged animal.

Suit number two, the older of the two Feds offered his outstretched hand to Rick and introduced himself. "I'm Special Agent Phillip Blake, Federal Bureau of Investigations. I apologize for my partner's behavior." Rick accepted the man's hand. "You must be Detective Dixon?"

Rick pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "He's Dixon. I'm Detective Grimes." Rick eyed the agent in front of him. He was older than Rick, maybe fifty or better. He wore a thick gold band on his left ring finger and a pleasant enough smile on his face. He was of Mediterranean or Middle Eastern descent, maybe Lebanese, Rick thought, remembering the striking blue and amber eyes, like Blake's, of the Lebanese people from his special ops days in the Middle East.

"Nice to meet you both. I've heard good things about the work you do in The Violent Crimes Unit." Daryl stopped his pacing and looked at the man in front of him through squinted eyes. "That idiot over there is my partner, Special Agent Zachary Hines. He's a good guy, just a bit hot tempered. I apologize, again." Rick's eyebrow shot up and he snorted in understanding. More than once he had had to make the same apology on behalf of his partner and friend Daryl Dixon.

Ignoring his partner's snort, Daryl stepped up even with Rick. "What the hell business does the FBI have with this case?"

"Detectives Dixon, we are only interested in one aspect of your case. The woman."

"What about her?"

"We believe she's a part of something bigger than what went down in this warehouse."

"Who is she?"

"Don't know yet, but the MO tracks with a serial we've been hunting for two years now. He has just recently become active in Atlanta."

"What MO?" Rick questioned.

"Young, blonde, mid to late twenties, evening dress, heavy makeup, multiple cuts, some deep, some shallow, bruising from the neck down..."

"How the hell you find out about our vic so fast?" Daryl wondered out loud

"Four months ago, we sent out an alert to the ME's office in Futon and DeKalb counties. Anything resembling our criteria, they call."

"How many bodies?"

"Here in Atlanta?" Hines questioned having finally made his way back over. "If she's one of his, that makes three. We usually find them on the first Saturday of the month. He kills six women over a six month period then he moves on."

"Ta' where?"

"That is the question, Detective Dixon."

"Wait," Rick interjected seeing Daryl start at the agent's smart ass reply. "You said you find them on the first Saturday of the month. This is the third Tuesday of this month."

"I know," Agent Blake responded. "All of the previous victims were reported missing one to two weeks prior to being discovered. He takes his time with them. The cuts are patterned and the assault is calculated. When he's done and the girl is dead, he places the body in a conspicuous area to be found on the third Saturday of the month. Either this girl isn't one of his or she is, and whatever happened here interrupted his plans. If so, we're hoping to find some new evidence."

Daryl and Rick stood quietly in front of the two agents trying to sort through the few details they had just been presented with. "If you don't mind detectives," Agent Blake spoke, "we'd like to take a look at the body before the ME takes her back to the morgue."

"She's back there," Rick said and pointed to the rear of the warehouse where a black cadaver bag lay, evidence tag number seven displayed next to it. The agents followed Rick to the body flanked by Daryl and his inaudible footfalls. The younger agent, Agent Hines, knelt down next to the bag and unzipped it, exposing the young woman's face and neck. He gently rolled her to the side and brushed her hair away from the back of her neck revealing a fresh burn in the shape of an eye with angry, branded strips of flesh that moved down and away toward the shoulders. It matched the branding iron they had found in the storage closet.

Agent Hines directed his attention to the three men standing next to him. "She's one of his."

"There's something you need to see," Rick offered.

Daryl's phone rang as the men fell in step, headed to the concrete room. "It's Rhee," he said and nodded once sending the men with Rick while he stopped to take the call. "Yeah?"

"That Lucifer eye thing is significant. If that girl is branded, I think we might be dealing with a serial."

"What else?"

"The five dead guys each have a rap sheet as long as my arm. Known associates are consistent with their tattoos. Not sure what's happening between the two gangs yet, but..."

"Don't matter. Turn it over to the gang unit. Got anythin' on the woman?"

"Yeah. Twenty-eight year old Melissa Leigh McBride. No known connection to either gang. Reported missing nine days ago by her roommate. She was a waitress at The Mojito. No criminal record. I have an address for work and home."

"Send 'em to me. Talk to the roommate."

Daryl joined the others in the back room. "Anything?"

"If it's all the same to you, Detectives, I'd like to send all of this to our lab for prints and DNA. We've never been able to locate his base of operations before. These tools and instruments are a new find. Maybe we'll get lucky."

"We'll post a unit across the way. Set up surveillance just in case he comes back," Rick directed and grabbed his phone to get started.

"Already got that covered, Detective. We'll take it from here," Agent Hines countered with a smirk.

"The hell you will," Daryl spat stepping into Agent Hines' space.

Agent Blake moved to stand in front of his partner. "We're not taking over, Detectives. I can assure you that we have every intention of working with you on this case. Perhaps you can get the case files from the other two Atlanta victims. Have those cases re-assigned to Violent Crimes, and we can figure this out together."

"I want to see everything you got so far," Daryl ordered.

"Yes, of course. Our lead profiler will get you everything we have." Agent Blake looked past the two Detectives in front of him and waved another agent forward. Daryl and Rick turned to see who he was communicating with, Daryl clearly irritated that said Agent had quietly snuck up on the two of them. Agent Blake's introduction was drowned out, however, by Daryl's emphatic, "shit" at the sight of her.

Rick couldn't help the smile that washed across his face. "Beth Green! As I live and breath."

Agent Beth Green strolled confidently toward them wearing a blue, curve hugging skirt (when the hell did she get curves, Daryl wondered) and a yellow and blue sleeveless silk shirt. Her hair hung down past her shoulders in long, loose waves that bounced invitingly when she walked. Daryl licked his lips subconsciously and started moving in place in that very Daryl way that made it seem like he was coiled tight and ready to spring. It had been three years since Daryl had found that awkward goodbye note on his desk. Three years since Beth had all but disappeared from his life just as he was starting to consider the fact that Officer Beth Green had slipped into his heart. Daryl had caught himself more than once thinking about Beth and their brief time together in the Intelligence Unit. Rick stepped forward and greeted her with a hug. "Agent Green, huh?"

"So it would seem," she chuckled.

"You look good, Green," Rick said with a quick approving nod.

"Thank you," she replied and a pleasant pink flush decorated her cheeks. She turned towards Daryl and met his eyes straight on. "Hello Daryl," she said kindly and smiled although it didn't seem to reach her eyes.

"Beth," he nodded and half stepped toward her before awkwardly retreating. He ended up lightly tapping her arm and growling an inaudible greeting that sounded more like a grunt than a word. Rick watched the amusing exchange wordlessly, curiosity peaked. He knew his partner had had a bit of a crush on then Officer Green, and he had suspected that his feelings were reciprocated, but once Beth was gone, his partner had never offered a word on what had actually happened between them.

"I assume Agent Blake has given you the quick rundown on what we're dealin' with?"

"Just the highlights," Rick replied. "He said you could give us the particulars."

"Right. Why don't you gather your team and meet me at the Federal Building first thing tomorrow morning. I'll show you everything we have."

"How long you been working on this?" Rick asked.

"I got the file five months ago. They had a hunch he was heading this way."

"So you're based in Atlanta?"

"Yep. Got the Atlanta assignment right out of Quantico."

Daryl snorted at that and Beth, ( Agent Beth Green, she quickly reminded herself), pulled up short. "Something you got to say Detective Dixon?"

Daryl narrowed his eyes and met her glare head on. "That assignment got anythin' to do with your Daddy bein' APD Chief of Police?"

Beth took one big step forward inching her way just inside Daryl's personal space. "That assignment has nothin' to do with Hershel Green and everythin' to do with graduating first in my class." If Beth didn't know better, she would have thought she saw just the ghost of a smile cross his lips before he cleared his throat and mumbled something about not expecting anything less.

"Agent Green!" Blake called from the door of the concrete room.

Beth turned back to the detectives. "I'll meet you and your team in the morning. My office."

Rick nodded and Daryl grunted. "Good to see ya Beth," Rick said sincerely as he backed away and turned to catch up with his partner who was, at present, skulking toward the car.

"She's blossomed into quite the Georgia peach, don't you think?" Rick asked Daryl as he nudged him with his elbow. Daryl stopped and looked at Rick like he had just sprouted horns or something. "Don't give me that look. She's a damn fine looking woman, and you still like her"

Fine... so damn fine. That's the word he'd been chasing in his head. When did Beth Green start looking so damn fine. Daryl jerked open the door to his old Ford F-250 and slid in behind the wheel. "I don't even know her. Least not any more."

"You got something on your chin there, brother." Daryl cut his eyes to the rear view mirror. "It's drool, amigo because you like her."

"The hell's wrong with you?"

"You never told me what happened between you two, back in Intelligence."

"That's cause nothin' happened."

"Uhuh. Then why did ya act so weird when Sargent Jones told us she left for Quantico?

"You're weird, dumbass"

"Classic deflection," Rick countered with a knowing grin.

"Man, shut the hell up."

"I will. After you tell me whatever it is you're not telling me."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "You're not gonna' let this go are ya?"

"Negatory."

Daryl let fly a deep, irritated sigh and turned the corner toward the precinct. "She told me she was thinking about leavin'. Wanted to know if I had any reason for her ta' stay."

"I knew it. I knew she had a thing for you."

"Yeah, well, I didn't. And I couldn't give her a reason."

"Why not? I thought you liked her."

Daryl mumbled and shrugged, and Rick understood. He had no doubt that, in that moment with Beth, Daryl had run down a long mental list of all the reasons why they shouldn't be together and of all the ways he didn't quite measure up.

"Okay, so she's back. Maybe you can feel her out... see if she's still got a little spark for ya.," Rick suggested, eyebrows dancing suggestively.

"Or maybe we jus' concentrate on the case," Daryl retorted, effectively ending the discussion.

Inside the precinct, Michonne had little to add from the missing persons report on one Melissa "Missy" McBride. Rick brought her and Glenn up to speed on what all they had learned from the FBI. "Do you really think they'll give us full access," she asked.

"The lead profiler is an old friend of ours. We're supposed to meet at her office tomorrow. She said she'd give us everything they have."

"Can we trust her?"

"I think so," Rick replied. "She's Chief Green's daughter. Good people."

"We can trust her," Daryl declared and that was enough for now.

A/N: So there it is. Completely AU. Not my usual style, but I've got this one completely mapped out. Frequent updates coming. Please let me know what you think, as I have ventured far out onto that proverbial limb! Reviews are soooo greatly appreciated!