Vitals [Part II]

Part II: Wynters' World

J. Edgar Hoover Building

Washington, DC

2234h

Rain. Nothing but rain for several days now, even flurry storms greeted the District of Columbia. Viannet Wynters was beginning to wonder if she would ever see the sun rise in DC again. The paperwork she had been pouring over for the past three hours seemed completely useless to her. This case was cold as the Lean Cuisine she'd abandoned in the lounge five hours ago. She closed her eyes, knowing she needed to get home to bed, but every time she lay down in that bed all she could see was Alex's face. God how she missed him ! It had been months since she'd heard from her former partner and fiancé, and even then she had not been completely certain it was Alex Thrace who had turned up on the street below her apartment. His face had been darkened by the nightfall.

Alexandrin Thrace was currently operating undercover, sifting out terrorists in various parts of the United States. He was ordered to have no contact with Viannet for the safety of both agents. It would be this way until his return next year, or until as many of the FBI's Most Wanteds were apprehended-whichever came first.

"Agent Wynters?"

Vianne's eyes fluttered open to reveal the concerned visage of one of her closest colleagues: Katharyn Faire. For a moment, her mind did not recognize this woman. She remained hesitantly silent.

"Viannet? Vianne, it's me. Are you alright?"

After a moment of uncertainty, Wynters smiled up at the Agent who looked down upon her with sympathy in her sea-blue eyes. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine, I just...I'm really tired, I guess..."

"I should think so, you've been stewing over those files all nightlong. Viannet, everyone else has already gone home. You should, too." She began to spruce up the case files.

"I know I should, but I just can't help feeling that there's something here I'm not seeing. Something I should see, but I'm not. A full autopsy is the only alternative I have, these files are inconclusive at best. No one has enough evidence to go on."

"Look, we can work on this some more tomorrow. Right now it's late and you're exhausted. Believe me, there's plenty of time left to think about this case."

Vianne smiled a tired smile and nodded submissively. "What can I say? When you're right, you're right." She stood, stretched slightly, and made her way to leave the office.

"Are you okay to drive?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Driving actually helps me stay awake." On this note, Vianne and Katharyn parted ways with one getting off the elevator at the second floor, the other at the third. As she headed for her car, Wynters scavenged around in her purse for the keys to her car, and suddenly the sensation of another presence caused her to stop and glance around the near-empty garage. When she was satisfied that no one else was with her, she continued toward the only remaining vehicle on the lot.

"Viannet? Viannet Wynters?"

A feminine, sand-papery voice startled Vianne, chilling her body to the core. She could have sworn that she was completely alone in the garage, but the voice behind her was proof that her senses had betrayed her. Not only that, but the stranger had called her by her full name: Viannet. No one calls me Viannet except for Katharyn and Alex . She turned fully around to face the originator of the aforementioned voice and nodded as she spoke, sighing. "Yes….how do you know my-?"

The woman stood at about 5'10'', dark auburn hair and the iciest blue eyes ever to have been beheld by Vianne Wynters in her entire lifetime. She hardly seemed human, except for her distinct humanistic physical features. She began to answer me in fluent French, but switched to English when she saw the expression of utter confusion and fear in Vianne's eyes. "I apologize for frightening you, Viannet, but I couldn't risk exposure. Is there someplace we can go to talk, in private?"

"How can I have a conversation with someone who came out of nowhere to accost me in the FBI Headquarters parking garage and won't even tell me her name or how she knows mine?"

The stranger laughed nervously and apologized once more. "My name is Olivia Wynters, and I have information you need."

Did she just say what I think she said, Vianne thought to herself. She took another quick glance around before deciding to respond. "Look, I don't know who you are or what you think you can contribute to anything at ten-thirty at night, but Olivia Wynters is dead and if you don't leave now I'm-" Then it hit her. The stranger with her deep sea-green eyes and dark red hair gazed intently at Vianne.

"I...I know it's late and I know I haven't exactly approached you in the most tactful of ways, but...I am who I say I am and I can help you and...right now...my life is in danger, even as we stand here...I..I need your help, too. I came here because if..if I don't tell someone who has the power to do something about this now...I may never be able to tell anyone." Her eyes cried out in genuine fear, as well as did her voice.

Vianne could sense her sincerity, and her fear. She looked back to her car, closed her eyes for a moment to clear her head. She was still pretty exhausted, but she had to do something, or else face endless guilt if some harm actually did come to this frightened young woman. "Alright, I'm taking you to my apartment, but I'm warning you now: if this is some type of false front or pretense, I'm prepared to defend myself. Get in."

Residence of Special Agent Vianne Wynters

Washington, DC

2346h

Olivia accepted the cup of coffee graciously, sipping at it tenderly. Vianne observed that her hands were shaking slightly and that her face was marred by a blackish blue bruise. In fact, it seemed to have spread larger in the past fifteen minutes that they had been sitting on Wynters's couch. "I should probably start out by telling you who I work for and how I ended up involved in this mess."

"Sounds like a good place to start." Vianne wasn't planning on asking about the fact that her supposedly dead sister was sitting in her living room until after the guest told her everything she seemed to need to get off her chest.

"I'm an agent for the D.E.A. now and I was investigating a man we thought was the ring leader in a major drug-trafficking ring. I went undercover as a possible addition to the 'business' and well, my target suspect didn't trust me at first, which I expected. He even ran my background, but I knew he wouldn't be getting the real info on my identity, so I wasn't too worried. Anyway, the weeks turned into months and he decided to let me in on the biggest deal of his so-called 'career.' I went along with his crew to the deal site, but..."

"Let me guess, things got out of hand."

"I wish I could say that isn't an understatement, but it is. Things got more out of heart than out of hand."

"What do you mean?" Vianne 's eyes furrowed into an expression of puzzlement.

"I, um...I-" Tears began to stream down Olivia's face. Vianne stood and went into the kitchen, then returned with a glass of water and offered it to the weeping woman. "Everything was going along as planned, the Sting Team was in place, but somehow Vince must have know something was gonna go down with the cops. He switched the location at the last minute. I had no way of contacting the team to let them know, I was screwed. We ended up just off of the Parkway, on a jogging path...it was Vince's bright idea to go with just me and no one else from the crew. I knew that wasn't a smart move, but it's not like I could just tell him off for it. We waited for about fifteen or twenty minutes until a black car pulled up alongside the path and the passenger window rolled down. The man inside told Vince to get in and for me to stay out of the way or I'd regret it. The next thing I knew, Vince's body was lying facedown in the creek, blood running all over the place. I noticed something, muscle fibers...I thought he'd just been shot to death, but when the Sting Team finally arrived with the DC cops, it turned out his throat had been completely thrashed with some type of drilling tool and his heart had been torn from his chest."

The phone rang, startling both women on the couch. Vianne picked it up after the third ring, "Wynters."

"Vianne, hey it's Kat. I just wanted to make sure you made it home alright."

"Hmm? Oh, yea I'm fine. I met someone in the parking garage, she nearly scared me half to death, but everything's okay. She's here with me."

A sigh. "I knew I should have gone down with you..."

"No, Kat, it's perfectly alright. No harm done."

"Who is she anyway?"

"She's with the D.E.A., and she just told me a most disturbing story. The case she was working has just turned into one that sounds like an X File;" Vianne lowered her voice, "there's more, but I can't talk about it right now."

"Oh…well what do you mean about 'a most disturbing story'? You're letting her stay with you?"

"Yeah. She's not safe out there right now, doesn't have anywhere to stay. Look, I have to go. Just come over in the morning and hear it from her, okay?"

Another sigh. "Sure. Get some sleep, or else."

"I promise." Vianne hung up the phone and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, that was my partner checking up on me. I'm afraid I'm not in the most alert state to help you right now. We both need to get some rest, clear our heads. We're going to have to figure out something, but you're welcome to stay with me until I think of something."

Olivia beamed back sadly, wiping the last of her tears away. "Thank you, Viannet. I mean, I really appreciate your hospitality."

Wynters placed a comforting hand on her supposed sister's shoulder. "It's not a problem. Katharyn will be by in the morning. Just tell me something, the sting op, when did it happen?"

"About a week ago."

"And you filed a full report to your superiors?"

"Yes."

"Not to be skeptical or anything like that but...how can you be so sure you're in real danger?"

Olivia set the glass on the coffee table and looked Vianne square in the eye, just as solemnly as can be. "He's been looking for me...he would have killed me that night, I know it. I'm the only witness."

Vianne nodded, listening intently. "Okay...okay thank you. Let me get you a couple of pillows and a blanket. I'll be right back." She went into the hallway closet for the blankets, grabbed a few pillows from her bed and took them back out to her guest. "Listen, it's going to take some time for me to..adjust..to this-you. I just ask for you to be patient with me. I was only really just now getting over my sister's—your death."

"I understand. I'm sure I would react the same way if I were in your shoes."

Vianne paused for a moment before say anything. "Would you…would you be willing to submit to a blood test—to confirm all of this?"

Olivia nodded. "Of course."

"Okay, thank you. Goodnight." Vianne smiled kindly and turned out the lights.

"Night."

Residence of Special Agent Viannet Wynters

Washington, DC

0922h

Katharyn sat beside the statuesque figure of Olivia Wynters as they discussed the situation they were all unfortunate to find themselves in together; luckily, Vianne was here and Kat knew she'd figure out how to help. Liv served some fresh coffee while her guest recalled everything she had already heard the night before.

"...so that's why I came to the FBI. I knew it wouldn't do any good to go back to our 'friendly local law enforcement', seeing as how they don't believe I'm in any danger because it was dark that night and the suspect probably thought I had taken off. Being a woman, he figured I'm not much of a threat, nor am I worth his time. But if this guy is as smart as I think he is, like most psychopaths would be watching out for any and all witnesses. He's looking for me...and I think I made it a hell of a lot easier for him to find me...there's something I forgot to tell you last night, Vianne."

Wynters and Faire exchanged tense glances. "Go ahead..." Katharyn urged.

"Well, I was required to give a statement to the media after the attack; my boss said it had to come from me, for whatever reason, and that I had no other choice, so I did as I was told. I gave the statement to the press."

"I knew I recognized you from somewhere!" Katharyn called out, having been struck by this realization. "I saw you on the news two days ago...I can't believe I didn't figure that out sooner..."

Vianne, on the other end, was not one to take this lightly. She, perhaps more than anyone else in the room, was quite aware of the possible repercussions of the having Wynters's identity plastered all over the news and in the media. She ran a few nimble fingers through her soft, auburn hair and sighed in frustration. "I can't believe someone as respectable as Dave Browning would do this to one of his own agents."

Olivia frowned. "What do you mean, chérie?"

Viannet threw her hands up in the air, another sign of frustration. "Don't you see what he's done? He's using you as bait to lure the killer. One of your people called the office yesterday, asking for partial jurisdiction...they said they had someone that could lead them to this guy. Olivia, Browning put your identity at risk when he told you to make that statement. You were not required to do that, he could have had one of his other P.R. boys speak to the press. He's placed you directly in the line of fire as a trap !"

Willow was lit with fury. "That son of a bitch!" Her eyes were teeming with anger, "but...why?!"

Olivia was struck silent by this, so much that she couldn't speak for several moments. She couldn't believe that a man like David Browning would do make such an error in judgment. Why would her put her life in danger? She thought about this for a while before saying anything aloud to either of the FBI agents. When at last another realization hit her, it felt as though someone had run her through with something extremely sharp. He wants the credit... Somehow, she had lost herself in her own thoughts. She struggled to speak. "Because he wants the credit if the FBI finds that sick bastard...and he's only using the FBI to get this guy...he knows the DEA doesn't have any say in an investigation once its prime suspect ends up missing a vital organ...when a murder takes place, we're required to back out of the case and move on to one that's relevant to our purpose."

...more on the way ! Stay 'tuned' !