Nick and AJ took a cab to the Berlin Hilton, expecting to find Agent Bryant there, waiting for them quite impatiently. "He's gonna be pissed," Nick commented as the Boys climbed out of the cab. AJ tossed the driver the fare and they turned to look at the hotel. "He's gonna be sooo pissed," Nick repeated.
AJ shrugged, "If he's pissed he should shut the hell up 'cos it's not like he tried really hard to get us going before he left..." he pointed out.
"Yeah, true, I guess," Nick answered.
The two Boys stepped forward to find that the hotel's doorway was one of those rotating doors. A smile spread across Nick's face, "Aw crap I love these things..." He walked quickly through it, coming all the way back around and out, beaming at AJ as he did. "It's so much fun..." he turned and repeated the spin around the door. AJ raised his eyebrow. "No dude, you should try it," Nick argued, sensing AJ's skepticism. "For SERIOUS."
AJ shook his head, "Jesus are you ever a pain in my ass, Carter... C'mon let's go in and find Agent Bryant before I have to kill you." He pushed his way into the lobby through the door, acutely aware of Nick trying to follow him and getting hung up in the door clumsily.
"Crap!" Nick fell out of the door, nearly spilling to the floor, but caught himself just in tme. AJ rolled his eyes. Nick stuck out his tongue, and went to say something, when his eyes caught sight of the complimentary coffee steins on a counter by the elevators. "Coffee!" he whimpered, then bulleted forward like he was shot out from a cannon towards them.
AJ sighed and watched as Nick bee lined for the java and mumbled, "No, no problem, Nick, don't worry about it. I'll take care of everything while you pursue coffee... I don't need help. Help is overrated, anyways..." He made his way over to the desk and leaned against it. "Yo," he greeted the desk woman. She looked up at him, blinking unexpectedly.
She smiled, "Hallo, welcome to das Hilton en Berlin," she greeted him, her accent thick, but English mostly clear.
"Thanks," AJ answered, then barreled on. "Look, my name's Agent McLean and I'm here with the FBI, trying to clear up the case concerning your pent house and the recent -- uh..." he paused, "...troubles. I'm --- WE," he glanced at Nick who was poking at one of the steins repeatedly, frustrated looking, "-- are supposed to meet up with our coworker, Agent Bryant. Is he here just yet?"
"I don't know," she responded, "Let me find out." She turned away, and AJ waited.
"Shit!!!" Nick cried suddenly. AJ glanced over at him, half expecting the sight of blood or something, but only saw Nick standing there before the coffee steins frowning. He raised an eyebrow and Nick looked over his shoulder at AJ and sighed, "They don't got no more of the caffeinated coffee," he whined, "Only the decaf!"
"So drink decaf," AJ replied automatedly. It's just as well, he thought silently, the last thing on earth Nick needed was more caffeine anyways. With a sigh of resignation, Nick set to work mixing together various concoctions of coffee, creamer and sugar. AJ turned back to the desk just as the girl returned. He smiled, "Hey again."
She looked up at him. "I'm sorry, Mr. McLean, but Mr. Bryant is not here at the time being." She paused. "Would you like me to have the bell hop escort you and your -- uh -- partner... to the pent house?"
AJ groaned. Well, they were here, he figured, so why not. Though it would've been easier with Bryant there.... "Yeah sure," AJ answered. He turned towards Nick as the girl radioed over a bellhop. "Dude... Nick, c'mon." Nick glanced at the coffee and popped a lid onto it, rushing over to AJ, leaving a huge mess on the counter -- spilled sugar and cream, papers, and those little plastic cups that creamer comes in....
The girl behind the counter glared at Nick, but waved a lurking bellhop over to the desk. "Show these two ... agents ... up to the penthouse suite," she directed, handing him the elevator key. "They're a part of the FBI team that was coming in to investigate the murder case up there," she added.
The bellhop nodded. "Right this way, sirs," he said, leading the way towards an elevator on the wall beside the desk. The Boys followed him, Nick clinging to his decaf coffee like it was gold. Tainted gold, sure, but gold none the less. He sipped and peered over the cap at the bellhop as he opened the elevator door and they all clambered onto the car. The guys eyes were piercing, unnaturally blue, and Nick couldn't help but focus on them. Colored contacts had always fascinated him in the same way that piercing on the face did, not in the sense that he didn't like the way it looked, but more like he just couldn't take his eyes off it. Other than the crazy blue eyes, though, he felt as though he'd seen this guy before, he just wasn't sure where or when or how. He wondered if he was one of the guys coming off the plane in the airport, but didn't feel any connection to that menagerie of faces and this guy. He tried to think of where else he might've seen him, but the eyes were just so damn distracting, he couldn't place a name or location to the face.
They reached the penthouse and AJ stood clueless and awkward at the doorway while Nick sauntered past him, having given up staring at the bellhop. AJ watched as Nick meandered about the suite, looking around and holding his coffee in his hands. Nick knelt down beside the chalked outline of the victim on the floor and touched the carpet gently. He frowned, and felt sick to his stomach. Now that Ivana Focque had died, death was very suddenly very, very realistic to Nick, and not a far away concept as it had been. He stood up and shuddered away from the spot, turning to look at AJ. "Where's Bryant?"
"Oh... didn't I tell you?" AJ asked, "He isn't here."
Nick's eyes lit up and he glanced nervously at the bellhop. "What do you mean he isn't here?" he asked, his mouth and throat drying up instantaneously, "Where the hell is he?" Nick hissed, "He could be fucking anywhere."
AJ shrugged, "I don't know. I don't care."
Nick paused, shook his head and leaned closer to AJ, "No dude, you don't get it..." he hesitated, feeling the bellhop's eyes on them, then worded what he meant very delicately. "We don't really know what we're doing here..." he licked his lips, "What if... what if we needed Bryant's help?"
AJ paused, understanding Nick, but not quite knowing why he had the suspicion. "Call Bryant with your cell, dude," he suggested.
Nick whipped his cell phone out of his pocket, "I dunno why I didn't think of that," he answered, "I hope Bryant answers." Nick kept his eyes on the bellhop as he dialed Bryant's cell number and put the phone to his ear, waiting for it to ring. He didn't know why the guy looked familiar to him, but he found it very, very, very unnerving.
-----
Agent Bryant awoke with a jolt. He'd had a terrible nightmare, he was sure of it. He sat up and reached for the cell phone, which he'd left on the bedside table the night before, only to find himself scrambling aimlessly for something that wasn't there. He felt a cold surge go through his veins and he hopped up, stumbling through the dark to the desk where the room phone sat. He picked up the receiver in a daze, and fumbled for the lobby button to call the front desk. He cradled the phone in his shoulder, and ran a hand over his eyes as his other hand turned on the lamp. "Let it be a nightmare," he pleaded as the phone rang in his ear and he waited for someone to pick it up.
"Front desk," the voice was cheerful.
"I need to be connected to Ivana Focque's room, please," Bryant said.
"One moment." The voice was replaced by an instrumental of some song that Bryant was sure he recognized. He scratched his head and pondered on it, humming along with it, until he recognized it. It was a Backstreet Boys' song - I Want it that Way, actually. He chuckled quietly to himself, sure that any moment Ivana was going to pick up and all his problems would be solved. The phone picked up. "Hello, sir? I'm sorry, but there is no Ivana Focque checked in at this hotel."
"Oh." Bryant had for but a moment allowed himself to believe that everything that had happened on the plane really had been an awful nightmare and that things were actually okay. He wasn't a bad agent, he didn't have a fallen officer on his little squad of four, he hadn't failed, and everything was fine. He'd envisioned getting up, getting dressed, cussing at the two Boys to get moving and heading out with them and Ivana over to the Hilton here in Berlin to investigate the crime scene... but now, well, everything came rushing back to him. "Thanks," he said sullenly and placed the phone back into it's cradle before dropping back limply into the chair behind him and taking a deep, shaking breath.
This is when he heard his cell phone ring.
Bryant turned to look for it and when he did, he saw it all right... he also saw the man dressed in a Hilton employee uniform with a mask of Casper the Friendly Ghost covering his head... and in his hand laid Bryant's cell phone. "Who -- who are you?" Bryant asked, leaping up from the chair. He realized after he'd spit out the words what a stupid question that was. Obviously, this was the Masquerade Murderer, who he'd been searching for.. come as close as right in this very room with him. Bryant was very suddenly quite aware that his gun was in it's holster in the drawer next to the bed. And also very aware of his own attire of boxer shorts and a tank top. He swallowed hard.
"Don't you know me, Mr. Bryant?" hissed Casper, "You've been looking everywhere for me, making this very, very hard for me..."
Bryant tried to think of something, anything, he could do to reverse this situation and apprehend his man, but he knew he couldn't, and he felt a sinking feeling in his chest take over him. He was failing, again, and ultimately. He dropped back into the desk chair and looked at the carpet, surrendering in a sorts. The Masquerade Murderer moved closer, around the bed, and opened the drawer, pulling Agent Bryant's own gun out of it's holster. He smirked. "Now, Mr. Bryant, you're going to get dressed, and we're going to go on a little trip."
Bryant's phone continued to ring.
Bryant nodded, standing up and walking to the closet. He pulled out some pants and a shirt and began pulling them on over what he was already wearing. The Masquerade Murderer smiled. "You won't be needing this again..." and with that, he closed his hand around the cell phone, and crumbled it with the strength of his bare hands.
Saving the Day for Blondes 2: The Amazing Story of How Nick Apprehended The Infamous Masquerade Murderer Without ANY Caffeine In His Body! by Pengi
