Disclaimer: I don't own FMA.

AN: Hello again! Just a few notes about this story:
1. This one jumps into a modern, Earth-based AU so no alchemy and it takes place in our world.
2. I have changed the nature of Hawkeye's relationship with her father in a way that should be made clear as the story develops. For this one, I didn't want him to be such a terrible person.
3. I will likely not be posting every week as I was with my last story since, toward the end of it, I had some difficulties keeping up with that frequency of posting. That said, I will also make sure I'm not letting weeks go by between posts. I will do my absolute best to keep it reasonable but just wanted to be upfront about it.

I hope you like the first chapter :)

The 'Mission: Peace' Job

The night air was warm and the building before them was ablaze with lights as FBI Special Agents Roy Mustang and Jean Havoc ascended the front steps. Roy adjusted the tie he wore as he reached into an inner pocket for the invitations that had been procured for them. Before he could produce them, Havoc showed his FBI badge to the doorman and to the front desk as they strode on through. Appraising his appearance in the dark windows they passed, Roy ran a hand through his hair that was black as pitch. Shaking his head, he quietly said to his partner, "Going undercover is pointless if you keep flashing the badge around."

"Just go ahead and cool it, dude. If our boy is here, he'll recognize us as feds with or without the badge. He's a pro."

"Wait a sec," Heymans Breda, the team's computer whiz, interrupted over their communication devices. "You didn't even use the invitations? Do you know what I had to do to get those? You don't wanna know, Boss."

"Talk to Havoc, man," Roy replied, while in the background Breda could be heard muttering, Oh, hey, Breda. We just need invites to some party you basically have to be the President or Steve-freakin-Jobs to get into…

"Oh, get over it," Havoc said, attempting to end his teammate's complaining.

As they walked into the grand entryway to join the other guests, Roy and Jean both picked up glasses of champagne from a passing tray. They casually moved about the room, appearing to study the various pieces of artwork therein while in truth observing the people around them. He tried to take in as many details as possible, thinking anything might be useful against criminals no one had ever seen.

"Ok, Boss, we know the drill," Breda said. "I've got the video feeds…taking stills of faces as we speak."

"I'm in the security office," Vato Falman informed him. He was the prematurely gray-haired member of their team with an encyclopedic memory.

"And I'm at the door, checking every...single…invitation," Maria Ross contributed, their newest and youngest member.

"Everyone gets put through their paces, Ross. Don't feel bad," Breda replied with a chuckle. "My first week, the Boss made me sift through three hundred names, by myself, to catch the Green Gate arms dealer. I consumed an unhealthy number of energy drinks that week."

"Dude, you're like Edward forty-hands with the energy drinks. Don't lie," Havoc laughed along with a smattering of snickers from the team. The goldenrod haired agent was suddenly shoved forward when someone collided with his back, sending some of his beverage to the floor.

Roy turned to look as he heard a woman whisper, "Shit," and saw a member of the serving staff trying to stabilize a tray of glasses. She was at least a few inches shorter than himself and his partner, with curly brown hair pulled into a ponytail. The woman wore glasses with black frames, along with an expression of acute embarrassment.

"Oh, I am terribly sorry, sir," she said to Havoc, handing him a towel to wipe up any bubbly that had gotten on his tux. She had a mild English accent and continued, glancing briefly at Roy. "My apologies, really. It's my first big event…I'm a bit nervous." This was accompanied by another self-conscious smile.

Havoc gazed at her as his flirtatious grin widened, and Roy rolled his eyes, deciding to turn back toward the painting in front of them. "No harm done," his blonde partner replied, reaching a hand out for her to shake. "Hi, I'm Jean. What's your name?"

The young woman's brow furrowed minutely and rather than accept his hand she reached toward the ground. A moment later she handed him something and told him "I believe you dropped this. Again, I'm so sorry…but I should be getting back to work."

She placed his badge in his hand and Havoc responded, "Hey, thanks. So, you were just about to…" as he tucked his badge into his back pocket. Then he looked up and saw she'd gone, trailing off lamely, "…tell me your name. Or not."

The blonde turned to once more face the painting, Roy laughing into his champagne flute and shaking his head as he took a sip. "What's your name? Really? I'd call that a crash and burn." Ignoring the glare from his friend, he quietly said to his team, "Ross, head back to the kitchens and check out the serving staff. A young woman, brown curly hair, glasses, about 5' 8." And check on Altman, his comm still isn't working."

"Sure thing, Boss," came Ross' reply.

"Not everyone is a crook, Roy. She's a server," Havoc reminded him as they continued on the circuit of artworks surrounding the room.

"I am aware," he replied, calmly scanning the crowd. "But we are here tonight because we put something together that no one else had. I'm not taking any chances. I mean, a server bumps into you, and your badge just happens to fall out? Come on, that could have been a lift."

"I've found a signal mixed in with museum security," Breda interjected. "I can't get rid of it, but I'll try to see what it's after."

"Ya know, I was thinking," Havoc began.

"Oh boy, there's a terrifying thought," Breda replied.

"Fuck off, man," Havoc rejoined. "Seriously, this guy freakin' does it all. Maybe once we catch him we should just hire his ass."

"Very funny, Jean," Roy responded, with mild irritation. "He's going to prison, where he belongs."

"I think we're gonna catch him…I've got a good feeling. And I smell a promotion when we do." Havoc punched him in the arm and smiled as punctuation.

"Can we even be sure we're looking for a man?" Falman suddenly interposed into the conversation, but no one responded.

Ross' voice came through the comms again. "Boss, I saw your girl out on the floor. The name is Jacqueline Disanto, but I haven't found anything special about her. I did find Altman in the janitor's closet. He's alive, but knocked out…I think drugged based on this note. And I quote, 'Two aspirin and a glass of water in the morning. He'll be fine.' And there's a goddamn winky face at the end." The team chuckled.

Roy shared a look with Havoc. "Get security to carry him outside. Shit. Keep your eyes peeled. Falman, did you see anything?"

"Not a thing…no camera in that area," Vato informed him.

Roy and his partner continued around the room, visually surveying the guests. Nothing was happening and he thought it odd.

"Oh, heck yeah!" Breda suddenly exclaimed. "I am the man. That was a comm signal, and guess what? I think we found our thieves."

"Let me hear it," Roy told his tech guy, scanning faces for someone talking to themselves or trying to shield their mouth with a glass.

A woman's voice was heard first, "…nice ass, don't you think?"

"Freya," another woman's voice said. "I swear to fucking Odin that if you keep…"

"Fine, Fine," Freya responded.

"But, yes, very nice ass…" The second female voice said.

"Ladies," this time a man's voice appeared, he sounded older. "How many times do I have to tell you not to take my name in vain?" Roy and Jean shared another look, brows perplexed, and then returned to perusing the crowd.

A laugh sounded. "So sorry, Odin." Freya paused, and continued. "Alright, first up on tonight's episode of Random Trivia: A few years ago, Forbes estimated Scrooge McDuck's wealth. What was it?"

"I'll take that," another man suddenly said, not hesitating an instant. "That would be $65.4 billion, thank you very much."

"Bravo, Freyr," the man known as Odin praised.

"Wait," a third man's voice said. "Seriously...Why do you know that?"

Havoc looked at him and asked, "Is this really what they talk about during a job? Are we sure this is the right group?"

"Who else would it be?" Roy softly countered. "The museum, the event…it fits their norm."

"Ahh, Boss?" Falman asked. "I am now watching repeat footage."

"And looped footage…that also fits their modus operandi. They don't know we're listening, do they?"

"No way," Breda replied.

Roy sighed with irritation and fruitlessly scanned the room once more. He and his team had connected various unsolved thefts from the past two years, attributing them to one unknown group. Crimes originally thought to be unrelated were found to have similarities in type of target or procedure. But to say that they were predictable would be presumptuous; it was more one of his famous gut feelings. They had evidently found their mysterious crew, but listening in on their conversation was useless, and they were still unsure of the exact target.

A little while earlier:

"Alright kids," Walter Grumman, also known as Odin, cheerfully said via his earpiece to the other members of the team with which she worked. He was in a limousine on the way to what was looking to be a fantastic 'Mission: Peace' Event at the Museum of Art and History in Baltimore. "This is your final question and answer period before the big test."

A chuckle came over the airwaves. "I think we're good, Odin," Riza Hawkeye (a.k.a. Loki) replied via their comm devices. She was at that moment walking into the rear of the museum, dressed as a member of the serving staff hired for the event. "But thanks for checking. My ETA is two minutes."

"Copy that," Rebecca Catalina (a.k.a. Freya) responded. "Ours is ten."

"By the way, Freya, you are looking especially lovely this evening," Grumman told her, adjusting his bow-tie and running a hand over his immaculately styled, though receding, steel-gray hair. He wore glasses and had temporarily grown a mustache to obscure his features.

"Aww, thanks you 'ol perv," she replied, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle out of the deep burgundy gown that fit her curves perfectly. Despite the epithet 'perv' with which she graced him, she smiled at the compliment, pulling a mirror down to check her reflection and unnecessarily fix her long and seductive silk-black hair.

"Okay, guys," Kain Fuery (a.k.a. Sigurd), their tech guru and youngest team-member, greeted them. He was a teen genius with just about everything, but especially with computers. "I own the security cameras, and if there is a recording device of any other kind in that building, it's mine. At this time, I'm getting only the normal signals from the security guards' radios and what not."

"Roger that," Denny Brosh (a.k.a. Freyr), the final member of their team, chimed in from his own position with the event support staff.

"Mmm…this is going to be fun," Riza murmured to herself, ready for an operation after their small hiatus. "Remember everyone, keep on the lookout for any friends. We haven't been found yet, but there's a first time for everything."

"If they're any good they'll be here," Rebecca drily replied, not harboring much faith in law enforcement in general.

With a brown, curly haired wig concealing her true hair (the color of straw and just as stick-straight), Riza made her way through the museum's less glamorous areas. She toyed slightly with the fake glasses perched on her petite nose, there to draw attention from her facial features, and thanked herself for remembering to don colored contact lenses to disguise her real eye color. In her opinion, you could never be too careful.

Taking a moment to drop her purse in the janitor's closet, she locked the door as she left and continued toward the grand entryway where many guests would be milling about waiting for the main event to begin. The janitorial staff would not arrive for another few hours, and until then that little room was theirs if they needed it.

Grabbing a tray of filled champagne flutes, she exited the swinging kitchen doors and danced through the throng of well-dressed socialites, politicians, and businessmen. Riza stopped occasionally to offer a group or individual the opportunity to take a glass while her eyes swept the room.

"Loki, I saw a man enter the security office," Denny told them. "Tall, white hair, and not part of the regular security team." She made brief eye contact with her teammate as they crossed paths.

"Thanks, Freyr. Keep an eye on him," she replied, on the move again. "I've got a young woman, black hair, Marilyn Monroe beauty mark on her face. She's behind the desk, accepting invitations, but she was not an employee as of yesterday."

"We're here, and I see her," Rebecca interjected as she and Grumman entered through the front doors. "Definitely new…and definitely a fed."

"This is going to be more fun than I thought," Grumman added with a little laugh, handing his and Rebecca's invitations to a young man behind the counter. The pair chatted, turning to look at something when the agent came by to check their invitations, giving her only a profile view of their faces.

Her tray empty, Riza returned to the kitchens and retrieved a full one, rejoining the throng to pass out more beverages. She stopped to offer drinks to her two teammates attending the event, saying with a smile, "Can I interest you in some champagne, Miss? Sir?"

Taking a glass, Rebecca quietly told her, "Two men, wearing tuxes…checking out the painting of the belly dancer. More fucking feds…"

"Thank you, my dear," Grumman said with a wink.

"I'll take care of it," she nodded, continuing on her way and stopping sporadically with other guests as she examined the men her friend had pointed out. They were both tall, well-fitted tuxes revealing athletic physiques, and were clearly armed. Though they were dressed for a party, their bearing was that of military men or law enforcement officers.

Making a quick decision, she made to walk by them and bumped into the blonde one. Lifting his badge, which he'd unwisely placed in his back pocket, she let it drop to the floor. She whispered, "Shit," as she moved glasses around on the tray. Putting on an English accent, she spoke with feigned horror as she hastily grabbed a towel to give him, "Oh, I am terribly sorry, sir." Hazarding a quick glance at the other man, who was watching her with careful curiosity, she lied, "My apologies, really. My first big event…I'm a bit nervous." She added a self-conscious grin and a nervous chuckle to sell the falsehood.

The blonde watched her, a large smile revealing teeth blossoming on his face, and held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Jean, what's your name?"

Riza gave him an odd look, trying to ignore the chorus of laughter coming through her earpiece, and reached down to pick up the badge. As she again stood, she let it fall open to rapidly read the name, closed it, and handed it back to him. "I believe you dropped this. Again, I'm so sorry…but I should be getting back to work." He took it from her and she disappeared into the throng a moment later, despite the fact he had already started to speak.

"Ok, Sig…Special Agent Jean Havoc of the FBI…Hook me up." She walked straight back to the kitchen and deposited her tray on a metal counter, making for the janitor's closet. Unlocking it, she reached in and grabbed the purse she had brought with her.

Rebecca laughed. "Did he just try to hit on you?"

"I think so."

"His partner is Special Agent Roy Mustang…" Fuery cut-in. "Their usual team is agents Vato Falman, who is the guy in the security office, Heymans Breda, which is their tech guy, Maria Ross, who is their newbie. Tonight they have an extra named Jake Altman, who appears to be playing waiter like you."

Riza strode toward the bathroom, pausing only briefly when she heard the name Mustang, she remembered her father mentioning that name before his death. Shaking it off she grabbed a woman's suit jacket from the back of a chair and locked herself in the restroom. In the process of tearing her shirt off, placing the jacket over a black sleeveless top, and changing her glasses, she said, "I'm moving up the timetable. Freyr, take care of our kitchen friend…and leave them a nice note of greeting. Then install the transmitter outside the security office and exfil to Sig's position."

"Copy."

She slid a syringe to him under the bathroom door and then Riza left the small restroom. Walking down the hallway toward the party, she let her hair out of its ponytail, shaking it loose, and grabbed a glass of champagne, attempting to change her appearance as much as possible. Approaching Rebecca's and Grumman's position, she walked up to the other woman and held out the purse, saying, "Excuse me, but I think I saw you leave this in the bathroom."

"Oh my goodness, thank you," Rebecca said with exaggerated relief. "I was out of my mind…couldn't remember where I left it." Her responsibility that evening was to take the Apollo statuette displayed in the center of the anteroom just outside the ballroom. The purse was specially designed to carry the statue out while fooling the scanners embedded in the doorways of all entrances to the museum.

The older man added with a laugh, "My niece, always forgetting things."

"Oh, I am not!" The black-haired woman slapped her 'uncle's' arm in jest.

"You're welcome," Riza replied with a smile and nod. She continued on her way, passing behind Mustang and Havoc who were once more standing in front of the painting of the belly dancer. She wondered for a second if they believed she was there to steal that particular artwork. Looking around she casually strolled, viewing the various paintings, statues, and relics on display.

Fuery then added, "Security footage is looped, I've got their comm frequency, and I've got a bead on this Breda guy's system. He's looking into our signal as we speak. What do you want me to do?"

"Freya will take the Apollo, I'll take the drive...just a bit sooner. Sig, listen in on their conversation and keep me posted. Let them take our comms, we'll move to our secondary communication protocol. How much time?" She perused the gathering, keeping herself aware of Mustang's and Havoc's position as she covered her mouth with her glass. Riza slipped her phone, their secondary protocol, out of her pocket and looked at all the photos Fuery had sent her of the FBI team. She wanted to be certain that she would recognize them on sight.

"He'll have it in thirty-five seconds."

She flipped the phone shut and slipped it back into her pocket. "Alright, earpieces dirty in about twenty-five seconds…Freya, would you care to start us off?"

"I would love to." The woman paused. "Now, I've been looking around, and I believe that the head security guard has a pretty nice ass. Don't you think?"

"Freya," Riza said, feigning a reprimand with a grin. "I swear to fucking Odin that if you keep…"

"Fine, fine," Rebecca rejoined.

"But, yes, very nice ass…" She glanced around, entertained by the looks of mild confusion and amusement on the agents' faces. They would wait for the guests to trickle into the ballroom and for the event to officially begin in order to make their move. Initially, they were going to act during the latter half of the party, but she did not want to give the FBI agents too much time to get comfortable.

"Ladies," Grumman's voice broke in as he and Rebecca made a lap of the room. "How many times do I have to tell you not to take my name in vain?" Her phone buzzed and she saw a text from Fuery to the group: All set. She sent back: On Odin's signal.

There was a collective laugh, and then Rebecca began, "So sorry, Odin." She paused, taking a thoughtful breath. "Alright, first up on tonight's episode of Random Trivia: A few years ago, Forbes estimated Scrooge McDuck's wealth. What was it?"

"I'll take that," Denny suddenly said, not hesitating an instant. "That would be $65.4 billion, thank you very much."

"Bravo, Freyr," Grumman congratulated him.

"Wait," Fuery interjected. "Seriously...Why do you know that?"

"I have an eclectic knowledge...you should try it."

"Very nice," Rebecca chimed in, stopping with Grumman to view a statue.

"Did you just watch Ducktales or something?" Riza commented. She stopped at a display, using the reflection in the glass to pinpoint the agents' locations. The hope was that their trivia game would keep the FBI group slightly off balance and wondering what exactly was going on.

"What if I did?"

"Ok, cool it guys," Denny chuckled. "Next up...Name a substance that frequently appears in fiction, and is an actual term from theoretical physics."

"Me," Fuery's voice claimed it.

"Damn Sig, that barely took you a second," Grumman remarked.

"Why am I not surprised you know this?" Denny joked.

"The word you're looking for is tachyon." Text from Fuery: Falman noticed the loop. I'll keep you invisible for as long as I can.

"Not bad, Sig," Rebecca added. "I had no idea."

"Ok, my turn. What does the K.C. in K.C. and the Sunshine Band stand for? Take that."

"Mine," Riza softly said, pausing in her lap of the room to view a painting. "It's an abbreviation of the lead singer's last name, Casey."

"Five points to Loki," Grumman chimed in.

"How come nobody else gets points?"

Finally, when around half the attendees had filed into the ballroom, Agents Mustang and Havoc included, she received one message from Grumman: Go. The fire alarm system engaged, along with the sprinklers in the ballroom, and the event was chaos.

Making her way through the crowd to an elevator down the hall which Fuery kept usable, she entered and hit a button. "Remember, comms are dirty. Scatter." She removed her jacket and pulled gloves from a pocket along with a back-up comm.

"Did you say that just to fuck with them?" Rebecca asked her.

Fuery: Still invisible. They are lost.

"Well, we couldn't have them thinking we didn't know they were listening." Riza smirked,
pulling on her gloves, tossing the jacket to the floor, and connecting the back-up head-set to her phone with an audio jack.

"I fucking love my job," her friend laughed. "...done and away."

The elevator dinged and she stepped out onto the top floor, largely consisting of offices for museum management. Speaking into the compromised earpiece, she said, "Alright, Sig, let's do it."

Riza removed her comm, dropped it, and crushed it with her shoe, replacing it with her headphones. Hitting a couple digits, she heard Fuery's voice, "I've frozen the elevators and locked every door I can. They just got video. This Breda isn't bad." She opened an office door and closed it behind her, making her way to the computer.

She took a seat behind the desk and pushed the CPU with her foot, angling it toward her. Slipping a flash drive from her pocket, she inserted it into one of the desktop computer's USB ports. "Drive's in."

"Tap the power button on the unit…that will start the process." After a moment he continued, "They saw you on the top floor, but not what room you went into. Agents Havoc and Mustang en route."

"Alright. I'm moving on to the safe…" When she saw it she added, "It's behind a painting, how cute."

"Ok, it's transmitting. Once all the files are transferred I'll destroy the system completely. There won't be a trace." He kept silent while she popped the safe, pressing her ear against it and focusing the majority of her attention on the barely-there clicks. Riza forced herself to breathe and remain calm when heavy footfalls could be heard from the stairwell at one end of the hallway.

She exhaled in relief when she turned the handle and the small door swung outward. Reaching inside, she pulled out a box and opened it to find an exceptionally valuable necklace resting in the velvet-lined interior. The necklace was silver, inset with a series of rubies surrounded by diamonds, with a large teardrop ruby, also framed in diamonds, hanging from the center. It was from the eighteenth century and had been a gift from King George II of England to his wife Caroline. "Hello, beautiful," she breathed, before tucking the necklace into a protective pouch sewn into her bra.

"Transfer complete," Fuery told her.

"Copy."

Riza retrieved the drive, drew the pistol she had holstered at her back, and carefully approached the door, straining her ears to try to determine the exact location of the two FBI agents. They were at the end of the hallway nearest to her position, opening doors and clearing offices. Voice quiet, she said, "I'm going radio silent. See you at the rendezvous. Do me a favor, in 30 seconds kill the lights."

"Sure thing. Be careful, Loki."

"You too, Sig."

Ever so silently, she opened the door a crack and peeked out, immediately closing her eyes to preserve her night vision and counting down until the lights would be shut off. Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…Riza exhaled, slowly stood, and when the light beyond her eyelids disappeared her eyes popped open. She opened the door further, hoping there would be no creak, and saw the two men poised to enter the office across the hall. They were looking around, evidently surprised by the sudden loss of light.

With no further hesitation, she strode forward and shot the blonde agent in the leg. He fell against the wall and she kicked his gun away as she spun, grabbing the black-haired agent's wrist at a pressure point; he dropped his weapon and she threw her right elbow back into his face. With a grunt of pain he paced backward and she kicked his gun further away as well. Havoc dove for her but Riza stepped to the side and used his momentum to throw him across the hall.

Turning, she kicked Mustang in the gut, shoving him against the wall behind him, and dodged his left fist that swung toward her, landing one of her own to his side. He coughed and wrapped an arm around her, pushing off the wall and taking them both to the floor. She gave a low shout of pain as his body-weight landed on top of her and then took advantage of their interspersed limbs to knee him in the groin. "Fuck!" he rasped, hands moving protectively to his crotch. "Not…cool."

Riza rolled them over, still catching her breath. "Sorry, Special Agent Mustang. You left me little choice." She opened his jacket and tore a strip of his shirt off, rising and retrieving her firearm from the floor that had fallen from her hand. Striding toward Havoc, she tossed the strip of cloth into his lap for a bandage and said, "Don't worry, Agent Havoc, I didn't hit anything important, just grazed you."

"That so?" he asked, breathing heavily. "You seem pretty confident...I like that."

"I never miss, Agent Havoc." Her gaze shot up to the nearest stairwell when footsteps and shouts of 'Boss! Havoc!' could be heard nearing their floor. "It's been fun, boys."

Turning toward the far end of the hall, she sprinted in the direction of her only remaining possibility of escape. The voices of the other agents became louder, one gunshot rang out, and she yelled in response to the sharp pain in her upper arm. As she swung herself around the heavy metal door leading to the stairs, she saw the blood trickling down her arm. Seeing that the bullet had only grazed her, she quickly stood and slammed the double doors shut. The other agents were already in pursuit and she took the stairs up to the roof two-at-a-time, bursting through the door.

Not slowing her pace, she reached the southeast corner of the building, holstered her weapon, and grabbed a rope with her gloved hands. It was already anchored to the roof as she'd taken the time the day before to prepare this exit strategy as a precaution. Riza wrapped the rope around one thigh and over her shoulder, climbed onto the edge of the roof, and carefully lowered herself down the side. Rappelling down the building, she reached the ground and disentangled herself from the rope.

Once more running, she sprinted through the woods on the southern edge of the museum property until she reached an apartment complex parking lot. There she jumped into the car left for her earlier by Denny and drove away at a normal pace. Releasing another breath, she let her head fall back against the headrest and then removed her phone from her pocket to dial Fuery.

"I'm clear," Riza informed him, and then ended the call.

Roy leaned against the wall next to Havoc as the other members of his team returned from the stairwell. "Well?"

Maria Ross shook her head. "She got away. Sorry, Boss."

His lips formed a line and he knocked his head against the wall in anger as he ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck."

He accidentally elbowed Havoc who loudly said, "Ouch…Aren't I in enough pain already?"

"Sorry." He exhaled heavily. "We were so damn close. It has to be her. She has to be Loki."

"Whatever, man. I think I'm in love." The blonde's face took on a dreamy quality.

Roy chuckled and glanced at his friend's bloody leg. "I hate to say it, but I don't think she returns the sentiment."

"What do you mean?" Havoc raised his open hands in a questioning gesture. "I'm alive. And she gave me a bandage…She kicked your ass."

"What? She attacked us from behind, in the dark, and kneed me in the balls. Kinda cheap, if you ask me."

Actually, Boss," Falman cut in. "Logically speaking, those were intelligent actions for an individual up against two capable, armed agents with back-up on-site."

"Thanks, Falman," he replied in exasperation, looking up at his teammate.

"Yeah, Roy. Are you sure you're not just a little salty about getting your ass handed to you?" Havoc paused. "You did shoot her a little, though, so you should feel better. And I'm pretty sure it was the waitress-chick. I have to give you that one."

"But I think I only grazed her."

"That's a good thing, cause this case is gonna be fun. I can feel it." He paused. "But why do you think she's Loki?"

Roy leaned his head on the wall again. "I recognized her voice when she apologized for the nut-shot…"

"See, she apologized. She didn't have to do that, you know," Havoc interrupted him. "And she could have just killed us, but she didn't. Just saying."

"Anyway…I'm pretty sure it was Loki's voice." He paused. "I can't believe they knew we were listening the entire time. I knew that couldn't be what they really talk about."

"Sorry, Boss. I don't like to admit it, but it's possible that Sig guy let me take comms," Breda said over the earpiece.

"They wanted us to think we had the advantage." Roy shook his head in frustration.

"Did you get a good look at her, Boss?" Ross queried, pointedly meeting his gaze to avoid looking at the exposed chest visible between his jacket lapels and torn shirt.

"No, but Havoc definitely did when he ogled her earlier after she lifted his badge. And that was some lift she pulled…you had no idea."

"I didn't ogle her," Havoc defiantly rejoined. "I was…appreciating the view. But now it totally makes sense why she ignored my attempt to break the ice. You know, what with her being a criminal and me being FBI."

"Right, because no ordinary woman would turn down Jean Havoc. It's entirely inconceivable that she might just be uninterested," Breda drily contributed.

"Bite me," Havoc articulately replied, though it was mostly drowned out by the team's laughter.

The lights came back on and an elevator on their floor dinged, admitting an EMT crew who walked in their direction. Once they ensured Havoc was stable, they placed him on a gurney and Roy called for everyone's attention. "Ross, go back downstairs and oversee the scene. Falman, examine this office...I want to know what she was doing in there. Breda, find out anything you can from security feeds and our recording of their conversation. We will meet in this idiot's…" He gestured toward his partner. "…hospital room tomorrow and discuss this case."

The group dispersed to follow his orders and he took the stairs to the roof to see how the woman had escaped. When he walked toward the southeast corner of the building, he found a heavy-duty climbing rope anchored to the roof and hanging over the side of the building. Leaning out over the edge, he could not see the end but felt it was a safe bet that it reached the ground. Over his comms he asked, "Breda…I want someone sent to the southeast corner of the roof to collect evidence, and the same corner but at ground level. Find out where she went."

"Will do, Boss."

After that, Roy returned to the first floor and strode directly toward the kitchens: it was going to be a long night, and he would need coffee.

AN: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and have a great day! :)