For the trap to be foolproof, the right bait needed to be selected. Derek knew that the situation was code-red now, and he had to at least take out one team which was after him.
That one team had to be the Zoe-Tony team, and from the looks of things, he was about to take out one, if not two of them. Mariana or Zoe, whichever she called herself, knew how much he knew of their operation.
That meant he was in danger, but also meant that she, as well as other parties, would be desperate to kill him. And when people became desperate, they began to fumble, and it would be easy to lure them into traps like these.
He turned into the compound beside the construction site and parked his car. Exiting the vehicle, he marched straight into the construction site. A few glasses lying against the wall on the exterior brickwork of the building showed him a reflection of the area behind him, and he was glad to notice that the car was still following him.
This round was his for the taking.
As Tony watched the detective enter the uncompleted building, he realized just how close the damned guy was getting to solving the case.
The fact that he's come here means that he knows about my involvement.
There was no way of telling if it was through Zoe, or he had already figured out the Boss' identity. He narrowed his eyes as he cocked his gun and walked into the building. Time to end this.
The building was a labyrinth - there was no way of knowing where the detective went except he followed the disturbances in the dust and sand on the floor of the place. The detective probably chose here as a hideout to monitor his movements, so it, so he was probably close to one of the windows on the west face of the building.
He climbed the stairs cautiously and reached the 2nd floor, turning, he saw the silhouette of a human figure standing near the window. Bingo.
"It's over detective!" he said.
In an instant, he heard the dull bang of a silenced gun, followed by a searing pain in his right hand. He dropped the gun instantly, screaming in pain.
"Why did you scream like that?" a familiar voice called out behind him.
"You're dead, you sick f*ck," he said, trying to pick his gun.
A gun cocked, and he felt the cold barrel touch his neck.
"I could say the same for that football jersey you're wearing. You were wearing it that day I arrested you a year ago."
That voice never ceased to torment him.
PROMPTS: lure bait torment round narrow football scream glasses
RANDOM DIALOGUE: "Why did you scream like that?"
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