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angstymarshmallow · 7 years ago

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Covert Action Part 3 - A Most Wanted Fanfic

[A little note: The more I thought about it, the more I decided it was time to shove all my terrible romantic subplots aside and focus on this. At first I wanted to submit this for choicescreates except it ended up not fitting really well with the prompt. In any case, I’ve really enjoyed writing these so far and I hope you will enjoy reading!]

[Part 1, Part 2]

[Summary: After hours spent searching the team has finally found a lead. Will it bring them one step closer to finding Sam Massey before it’s too late?]

Seventeen hours.

If Dave had been counting (which he was secretly); it had been nearly seventeen hours since Sam’s disappearance. Seventeen hours of wracking his brain for any shred of remaining evidence that could pinpoint her whereabouts.

Up until this moment, Dave Reyes had always considered himself a patient man. His formative years in college taught him its importance. It was as invaluable as a virtue if not a necessity for all the years he spent in the LAPD.

Patience was too familiar to him except as he paced back and forth by his desk, he struggled to remember why it was important. Each step increased his indecision, his anxiety. Simply put his nerves were frayed; they bordered on frustration and fear more than patience.

They had gone over every possible lead they could think of; poured over documentations and checked video feeds from last night. There was nothing to provide them with absolute certainty they were searching in the right direction. No solutions had magically appeared the way Dave secretly hoped for.

He was losing confidence in himself, and as his gaze rested on the rest of his team - he knew they were losing faith too. Simply put; they were running out of time. Patience had finally become his downfall.

He buried himself deeply into everything, only stopping to grab a coffee whenever possible. He skipped lunch, and as noon became evening he withdrew from his chair for bathroom breaks and to stretch muscles stiff from sitting.

When he returned to his desk, he caught sight of Mirasol. Arms folded, she was perched by his desk with a sandwich tucked under her arm. He lifted a brow as a single form of protest. Once he tried to move past her, she stepped in his way and blocked his view from the blinking screen that beckoned him.

He took another step quickly in the opposing direction, noting with mild annoyance that she did the same. “Eat.” She shoved the sandwich towards his chest.

His hands reflexively caught it before it could fall. “Thanks,” He muttered stiffly. He tore through the wrapper once she finally stepped aside. Inhaling the sandwich, he dragged his feet towards his desk and sat with a resigned sigh.

She inclined her head at him. “I figured you needed it.”

His stomach seemed to echo that sentiment, suddenly grumbling at the prospect of a meal. Almost involuntarily, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the texture of the savory food, letting it wet his tongue before he begun chewing. He shot Mirasol a grateful small smile. “Seriously, thanks.” He said between bites. He hadn’t realized just how much he needed it.

“Don’t mention it.” She patted his shoulder awkwardly before stepping back to clear her throat. “Besides, we can’t have our best detective slacking off on this, can we? If we’re going to find Sam -”

“When we find Sam.” He interrupted.

Mirasol paused, “when we find Sam,” she added a tentative smile, “you’re going to want to be there - with your I told you so speech ready.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes, “yeah you’re right, I wouldn’t want to miss that.”

She hesitated, lips forming a slight frown before outright scowling at him. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You couldn’t have known.”

Couldn’t he? If he had been paying more attention; if he hadn’t been so consumed with this high-profile case and the chance of beating Santos at his own game - Sam would have been here right now. She would have been sitting across from him, grumbling about something he said before they put their heads together for whatever case the Captain threw at them.

He would be hard on himself - he had to be because no one else would.

He forced a smile. “I’m fine, really.” He insisted and her eyes narrowed as she met his cool stare. “Besides seeing this -” he gestured with his free hand at her until he took another bite of his sandwich, “sweet side of you is beginning to freak me out.”

Cheeks flushing, she punched him playfully on the shoulder. “Don’t get used to it Reyes, I have a reputation to uphold.”

“We wouldn’t want to risk that getting sullied, would we?” He stated dryly. He watched her lips curve into an unusual smile even though she rolled her eyes at his timid teasing. “Seriously thank you Mirasol, I appreciate it.”

She inclined her head at him, “no matter what we’re still a team. Even if we’re down a member right now. We always look out for each other.” She stepped away just as Reza came forward, stumbling across the floor to reach them.

“Guys! I think found something!” He said triumphantly. He waved a piece of paper frantically in front of them until Mirasol snatched it from his hands.

“What’s gotten into you?” Dave asked, placing his half eaten sandwich by his desk. “What’s this?” He eyed the paper curiously.

Nikhil strolled in behind him, seconds later and Dave stood at his approach. His dark eyes weren’t bridled with excitement the way Reza’s had been, but he did offer them a tiny smile. “It’s a list of all the guests that were at the gala last night.”

Mirasol frowned thinly as her eyes swept through the paper, “How did you get this without any attention?”

Reza smiled sheepishly. “Captain helped us out with that.”

“But I don’t follow,” Mirasol raised her eyes to glare at them, “why is this so important?”

He tried to grab it from her, but she held up a single manicured finger to stop him. “We know it’s an invitation-only gala -” he glanced at Dave who confirmed with a slight nod, “- which means that everyone on this list had to have some connections to be here.” He was close enough for his hand to stretch until they could tap the list of names on the sheet.

“We ran the names through our database; most of them are clean - small infringements here and there; people suing each other, mentions of fraud before the charges got dropped. You know - what you kind of expect from a bunch of people with too much money.” Nikhil rolled his eyes, “but what we couldn’t find was anything on this guy.”

Reza’s fingers paused by the name. Derrick Fortney.

Dave’s brow furrowed, “what do you mean?”

“He wasn’t supposed to be on the list.” Reza mumbled, tracing the name absently. “He couldn’t be.”

“When we ran the name through our system, multiple times to be sure. He wasn’t on the original list.” Nikhil took the piece of paper from both of them and his fingers tapped his name insistently. “We couldn’t find anything - and I mean anything on this guy.”

“It’s almost like he’s a blank slate.” Reza added, “It doesn’t make sense. We tried to request a subpoena from a judge, just so we could have a look at their records; something to point to why he wasn’t on it to begin with.”

Usually took at least a couple days before the judge would get back to them, but with the Captain’s okay certainly spent of the process.

“Captain shipped the request off herself.” Nikhil added as if he could read Dave’s thoughts. “She wants to get to the bottom of this just as quickly as we do.”

Dave nodded as they listed off what they found. “It didn’t make any sense. His bank records showed money fluctuating from his account to several small businesses.”

“Money laundering?” Dave’s eyebrows shot up, though he didn’t know why he was surprised. A lot of gritty things happened in L.A., dirt and grime could pour from city streets and people if one looked hard enough.

Reza and Nikhil exchanged a careful stare. “We think so, but we can’t prove it. Not yet.”

“Where does Derrick Fortney live? Is he here in L.A.?”

Reza provided another sheet of paper, smaller this time and tapped his fingers across the large print of an address. “There is a physical address not too far away from the precinct. But I have a sinking suspicion that no one lives here.” He shrugged, “call it a hunch I guess, but I’m not sure that this person actually exists. At least - not in the way most people think he would.” He rubbed his hands together, “you see on paper he does but in the real world. Well,” he exchanged another glance with Nikhil, “we think he’s just a cover up with a different name.”

“Or he might not want to be found.” Dave added, frowning lightly as his eyes skimmed the address. Reza was right, wasn’t located far from here. “This Derrick Fortney could be running interference for some rich and powerful people.”

“Maybe even Santos.” Mirasol spoke up, echoing what they all had been thinking.

Dave stiffened and shifted on his feet. He ran his eyes through the sheet as well; not quite convinced that this was the lead they needed. “But why not keep him a secret? Why risk putting his name out to the public, even for the sake of a gala?” He frowned.

“It would make more sense to keep this a secret.” Reza agreed, glancing off to the side thoughtfully.

“Unless something went wrong.” Mirasol folded her arms, chin jutting out stubbornly while everyone else had glanced in her direction with alarm. “What if his visit was unexpected because something went wrong?” A pause. “Something with one of the accounts he manages and he had to show up unannounced?” She prompted.

Reza nodded eagerly, “and the security would have to let him through - once they had gotten wind that it was okay for them to let the guest inside.” He lowered his voice once he realized his tone had went up an octave. “Which means that whoever let them in knew, who they were and might have known why Santos was there that night. ”

“Kind of a giant leap there Reza,” Dave snapped his attention to his friend, but his tone had been laced with criticism instead of confidence in Reza’s abilities and his friend stumbled with a half-apology as his shoulders sank.

“Sorry I just thought…” Reza lowered his gaze. His hands slippsed inside his jeans, “…it was worth mentioning.”

Mirasol elbowed Dave until he winced in response, “But it’s more than what we’ve had in the past couple hours. Right Dave?”

Dave rubbed his arm. Startled by Reza’s reaction, he quickly tried to displace his earlier comment. “Not that it’s not a good hunch; it’s just a hunch that’s all.” There was no real link between Santos and Derrick Fortney, and as much as Dave wanted to believe it was more than a coincidence from people who’ve been staring at screens too long, he couldn’t sure. However, Mirasol was right - it was better than anything else his half-starved brain had concocted. “You did good Reza, this is good.”

Reza’s cheeks mottled red and he beamed at him. His head bobbed up and down quickly, and he mumbled something nonsensical under his breath while Dave cleared his throat before addressing the rest of his team.

“We’ve got a lead guys. That’s more than what we’ve had for the past couple hours.” He took a deep breath, and felt the familiar wave of confidence flooding through his system. Shooting his first real smile since stepping inside the office, he was starting to feel like himself again. “We’re going to need a search warrant, let’s get started shall we?”

They spoke among themselves, each vying off with their own ideas on how to proceed. Dave deposited the rest of his sandwich by his desk before grabbing his coat.

For the first time in seventeen hours, the detective finally felt something akin to hope. It wasn’t hope exactly, but was close enough for him to recognize the feeling. They had only seven hours; marking the last and the most crucial parts of the first twenty-fours since Sam Massey went missing.

Reza was right, the drive hadn’t taken him long. The detective left the precinct alone, soon after their discussions had ended. They offered to come along with him, but he quickly refused. It was better to have more heads together than apart; and he decided they were better off out of his way and searching for anything else they missed in their haste to scramble for their next move.

The apartment was located a half an hour way in some obscure part of the city. The more he drove through quiet neighborhoods with faded colours of white and grey, the more he wondered what type of a man Derrick Fortney was to live here. It wasn’t a bad neighborhood, but it hadn’t recovered since the recession a decade earlier. The quiet street corners were littered with garbage and waste, and every gaze Dave met belonged to toothless grins from people that lived on the street. He couldn’t understand why anyone with connections would live here.

The more he thought about it as he followed his gps, the more it didn’t make sense. Unless they had completely mistaken him, Derrick Fortney didn’t want to be found.

With his destination finally in sight, the detective parked on a nearly empty side street.

The man with the poorly kept guitar sitting a few feet away from his car had given him a grin when Dave dropped a few bills inside his cup.

Readjusting his tie, Dave stopped in front of the building and craned his neck upwards to see its impassive frame. He could discern even in its current condition that the building had been beautiful once. But ill-kept; windows were half-cracked and paint decades old had peeled back most of its lower half.

Out of habit, he touched the brim of his gun nervously as he approached.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood. Narrowing his eyes, he carefully checked this remote area for anything suspicious. he swore he saw out of the corner of his eyes a shadow that had quickly moved past. Squinting, he did another once over of the building then shrugged off the sudden uneasiness that fell in the pit of his stomach.

There was no one else here.

His mind was probably just suffering from sleep-deprivation. Forcibly relaxing his shoulders, he stepped inside.

It smelled awful.

The pungent smell of cigarettes and needles weeks old tickled his nose. He averted his eyes from the mess and coughed until he had to cover his nose with the crook of his arm. His eyes flew to the list of names quickly, and he scanned for any sign of Derrick Fortney.

He double checked the list, triple checked it before stepping back. What he hell?

Unless his eyes were playing tricks on him, the name wasn’t there. Uttering a soft sigh of frustration, he retrieved his phone to call the precinct. Reza picked up on the second ring, “Are you sure the address was right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t find his name in the building directory.”

A pause. “Are you sure?”

“What do you mean if I’m sure?” A sigh of annoyance. “I’m looking at the list right now, of course I’m sure.” Impatiently he checked a fourth time and scrunched his nose at the list. “It’s not here.”

“Just one second,” Dave heard pieces of paper being skimmed through by his ear before Reza cleared his throat. “Okay, so the address says he’s on the 15th floor. Apartment 1522 is supposed to be just down the hall.”

“Thanks, I’ll go check it out anyway.” He slipped the phone back inside his pocket, and carefully strode to the elevator. The ride up was quiet, and once again Dave was struck with uneasiness at the lack of people here.

He tried to rationalize his uncertainty, he wasn’t used to feeling this way. He told himself since it was beginning to turn into night, perhaps most of the residents had simply fell asleep. Somehow he found it hard to believe, but he couldn’t fathom another reason why everything had been so eerily quiet.

His anxiety increased, nearly doubled the moment he stepped outside the elevator shaft.

Silence.

He could hear the sound of his own heart, beating erratically inside his chest as he tried to quell his nerves.

Swallowing hard, he quickly crossed the hall and checked the room numbers on top of doors. It didn’t take him long to find 1522 beaming brightly at the end of the hall.

Touching the top of his gun again, he slowed on approach until he was inches away from the door. This is it.

Hopefully Derrick Fortney would give him the answers he was looking for. Otherwise he was going to end with an even much worse of a day than Dave had been through.

Straightening his shoulders, he knocked on the door loudly and waited.

No answer.

He rapped the door a second time, except waited a few hesitant beats longer before speaking. “This is Detective David Reyes,” He spoke crisply, letting them know that he meant serious business. “I have a search warrant and I just wanted you to answer some question Derrick Fortney.”

Still, no answer came from the other side of the door.

Frowning, he finally brought his hand towards the knob, hands pausing before touching the handle.

The moment he did, the world changed.

It had only taken split seconds for everything to shift. The moment his fingers grazed the familiar metal surface, an explosion went off. It rattled the building, shook his entire core and it was so volatile that the sheer force threw him across the hall. A sharp cry escaped his throat as his back connected with the wall. The sudden impact drew another strangled gasp from him and as pain quickly spread, he begun coughing. His arms protested when he tried to move and he felt something wet - a gash perhaps across his forehead, but he couldn’t be sure. Everything hurt. Everything felt as if it were on fire. When he tried to move again, his legs gave out from under him. He stumbled to keep himself upright, but staggered until he met the floor.

His head hit the cool surface hard. It felt as if his skull was about to explode, and another cry left his lips as he tried to force himself to ignore the pain. He couldn’t - it was everywhere. Every part of his body was screaming at him.

The last thing he remembered, was the smell of smoke filling inside his lungs before he saw it as his eyes fluttered closed.

#a covert action part 3 #dave reyes #most wanted fanfic #sam massey #reza fassihi #mirasol bautista #nikhil mantha #david reyes #samantha massey #most wanted #choices stories you play #i just really love mw and i wish it had a book 2 #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #kittenmusicalsfics #edit later

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thechrispowell-blog · 7 years ago

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MOST WANTED APPRECIATION WEEK | day one: the women of most wanted ↳ MIRASOL BAUTISTA

#playchoices #most wanted #most wanted week #mirasol bautista #yeah this one is just an aesthetic #mine

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buffyxwrites · 8 years ago

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CHOICES DREAMCAST → MOST WANTED BOOK

Anne Curtis as Mirasol Bautista.

#( choices. )#( dreamcast. )#( choicescast. )#anne curtis #mirasol bautista #most wanted #playchoices

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donutkinks · 8 years ago

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OK BUT IS MIRASOL OF FILIPINO DESCENT CAUSE IT WOULD BE HELLA COOL IF MY PEOPLE WERE REPRESENTED BY SUCH A BADASS IN A CHOICES BOOK

#playchoices #most wanted #i hope she is omg!#mirasol bautista

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annelyseadairs · 8 years ago

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@principal-mc and anybody else who was wondering

I looked up the meanings and origins of their names and came to this conclusion

Fassihi is an Iranian surname (Reza is also an Iranian name but I didn’t need wikipedia to tell me that)

Mirasol and Bautista are both Spanish names

Nikhil is Indian

I’m pretty sure Mantha is Indian too and has Sanskrit origins

if I messed up on any of these, please correct me

#playchoices #most wanted #mirasol bautista #nikhil mantha #reza fassihi

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sarcasticace · 8 years ago

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My queen

#PlayChoices #Most Wanted #Mirasol Bautista

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itlivesproject · 2 years ago

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Hi! Firstly, I want to say hats off to the team for this game! It Lives Within is one of my favorites this year (: the horror, branching storylines, art, writing, coding: it's all magnificent!

Secondly, I just wanted to voice my concern about Lincoln's heritage? I know he's only "part Filipino", and that's great, I've seen Filipinos who look like him and that's already great! Filipino representation is important, and given that Choices had Filipino characters (Mirasol Bautista, Ace Dela Cruz, even ROE mc and her family are mixed Filipino), I was excited about Lincoln!

I've heard about the prenium scene where he talks about having a tattoo in tagalog, and given how tattoos can culturally important (see: pintados), that's great!

This is in no way an attack, I just wish there were more indicators of his Filipino heritage outside of the enthinicty part of his profile and the tattoo. My friend played the game without knowing he was Filipino at all until I pointed it out ):

In the game, you get a good sense of abel's heritage with the myths and food. In asks, joceleyn's and amalia's heritages are explored through food, name and appropriate voice claims.

So it was a bit hurtful that I couldn't see any of that with Lincoln ): If his story was meant to be about not being able to connect with his filipino-Ness as much because he lost his filipino mother (yes filipino is gender neutral) at a young age, then that's fine! I know a lot of diaspora filipino-americans can relate to that story.

Again, I love the game and the characters. And I'm not saying you should make Lincoln's filipino-ness everything about his character, but i am hoping that it's okay to ask for lines like "lincoln missed his mom's adobo/sinigang/dinuguan" or Lincoln cussed in Tagalog, or Lincoln studied his moms inspiration of Filipino amorsolo paintings. Even if just through the asks, it'd just be healing to see, especially in these rough times :)

Thanks for taking the time to send this in! I appreciate your thoughts and concerns ❤️

So Lincoln is much less connected to his Filipino heritage than Amalia and Abel are to their Dominican and Mexican heritages, respectively. There are a few reasons for this. Firstly, his father is not Filipino and so he didn't really contribute to including Filipino customs and traditions in their family. It’s not because he was opposed to it, but he wasn't that familiar with it, and also he was busy, had other focuses, and it simply wasn’t a priority.

As such, Lincoln’s mom was basically his only connection to his Filipino roots. Lincoln’s mom taught him Tagalog the best she could but as is pretty common with second gen Americans, he didn’t learn it that well and he’s not fluent enough to reply eloquently, just enough to mostly understand. She often made Filipino dishes for him growing up, and his favorite dish that she’d make is pork adobo. Aside from visiting his family over Christmas, he never really stopped to give his heritage much thought until recently, and it’s even harder to connect now because his mom is dead.

That being said, there will definitely be more instances of Lincoln discussing and connecting with his Filipino heritage future scenes, because even if it isn’t as big a part of him as say Abel’s Mexican heritage, it is definitely part of who he is (also don’t take the voice claim thing too hard or anything, it’s bc I literally suck at those soooo bad so I just didn’t come up with anything :’)) for now though, here are some tidbits!

He still keeps in touch with his lolo and lola and misses them a lot. He considers them more his family than his father. His mom’s sister helps his grandparents video call him on WhatsApp every few few months, and his lolo always does little pop quizzes on his Tagalog to make sure he still understands and tells him to keep getting better at speaking. His lola always tells him to come visit when he can and to make sure he’s eating enough.

His mother had a lot of paintings around the house. A lot of them were by filipino artists. Lincoln’s favorite was always Jose Joya, because he was always more into abstract designs and the way colors work together than painting identifiable things like people and environments.

Christmas used to be his favorite time of year because his family went all out in the Philippines. But since he hasn’t gone back since his mother’s death, Christmas is his least favorite time of year. After knowing how it feels to truly celebrate with his family, it feels empty to be alone. But even though he’s not with them, he has his own little noche buena by himself or with friends. He makes a pretty good pancit and will call his his extended family to wish them a merry Christmas.

Also when he was in elementary school he always cussed in Tagalog at school, because no one knew what he was saying and he wouldn’t get in trouble. When his mom heard him swear once she asked where he learned that and he said “I learned it from you!” She told him she didn’t know why he couldn’t learn other words as easily as the swear words.

#ask #anon #mod win #lincoln mcqouid

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sceptilemasterr · 4 years ago

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MW Act 2, Scene 2 - Dinner Confrontation

Title: Most Wanted: The Hollywood Killer (A CIU Screenplay)

Main Pairings: Dave x Sam

Other Pairings: N/A

Genre: Full Rewrite

Rating: PG-13 for violence, blood, swearing, alcohol, and sexuality

Summary: Dave, Sam, Rhea, and the analysts go out to dinner for some team-building... and obtain a clue from a surprising source.

Previous Scene: Off-Duty

Masterlist: Link

INT. ELLIOT’S RESTAURANT - EVENING

A waiter, whose name badge simply reads ‘DANIEL,’ stands at the entrance to Elliot’s, which is clearly an expensive, upscale restaurant. He smiles at an unseen group standing behind the camera.

DANIEL THE WAITER: Welcome to Elliot’s. Do you have a reservation?

DAVE (O.S.): Yep, should be under ‘Reyes?’

Daniel glances down at his clipboard, flipping through it for a moment. Then he looks up.

DANIEL THE WAITER: Ah, yes, I see it. Right this way, please.

Daniel turns and walks further into the restaurant. One by one, the group follows him, in order: Dave, Reza, Mirasol, Nikhil, Rhea, and finally Sam. All but Sam are dressed in formal outfits. As they take their seats, Daniel shoots a brief look at Sam but does not comment.

DANIEL THE WAITER: I’ll be right back to take your orders. Enjoy!

He walks away as everyone opens their menus. Sam scowls.

SAM: He gave me a look.

DAVE: To be fair, I did warn you to dress up. “Texas Shootout Chic” isn’t exactly the usual dress code at Elliot’s.

SAM (defensively): Look, I didn’t exactly bring a change of clothes with me-

RHEA: Hey! I did offer to lend you one of my dresses, you know...

REZA (teasingly): Looks like you aren’t talking your way out of this one, Sam.

Sam shrugs.

SAM: What can I say? I have my style.

NIKHIL: Well, I approve. Dress codes are unnecessary and overrated, after all.

MIRASOL: You’re dressed up.

NIKHIL: That is entirely irrelevant.

The banter is halted for a moment when Daniel returns and starts pouring everyone water.

DANIEL THE WAITER: Can I interest any of you in some drinks?

SAM: Hmm. I’ll have a whiskey. Neat.

Dave raises an eyebrow. Sam shrugs.

DAVE: Could you stop being such a cowgirl for five seconds?

SAM (smirks): Couldn’t turn this off if I tried.

As the others place their drink orders, Daniel eventually gets to Rhea.

RHEA: I’ll take a martini.

DANIEL THE WAITER: ...Very funny, miss.

RHEA (indignantly): I’m twenty-three!

She hurriedly pulls out her I.D. to hand to him, as the rest of the group laughs good-naturedly. After Daniel checks the I.D. for a moment, he hands it back to her and leaves.

RHEA: Do I seriously look that young?

EVERYONE EXCEPT RHEA: Yes.

Rhea sighs. Reza pats her on the shoulder reassuringly as the conversation resumes for a few moments. Eventually, Nikhil leans toward Dave.

NIKHIL: I don’t see Rebecca here. Is she coming?

Dave shakes his head.

DAVE: I offered, but she’s staying late at the precinct. Says she’s got a big new lead on the La Huerta case to follow up on.

Sam sighs in frustration.

SAM: We’ve got a big new lead on our case, you know. Wish we could be workin’ on it right now instead of wasting our time here...

RHEA: Wait, am I missing something?

DAVE (to Sam): Learn to relax a little, would you? We’ll get a lead sooner or later. Just gotta be patient.

SAM: Easy for you to say. At this rate...

As Dave and Sam continue to argue, the sound of the restaurant door opening and closing can be heard.

DANIEL THE WAITER (O.S.): Welcome to Elliot’s. Do you have a reservation?

The sound of cash rustling is heard.

LI (O.S.): We do now.

DANIEL THE WAITER (nervously): Right, right, of course. This way, please.

Daniel enters the main dining room, nervousness clearly showing even through his professional demeanor. He starts crossing toward a table in the far corner of the room, followed by three individuals. First is the enigmatic woman known only as LI, who strides powerfully through the dining room with a distinctive, unshakable confidence. Behind her is her right-hand man, RYE, dressed impeccably in a suit and tie, surveying the area with a scowl on his face as though everything he sees is a potential threat. Finally, trailing the two of them is ERIS, tense and agitated, clearly uncomfortable in her dress and looking as though she’d rather be anywhere else.

DANIEL THE WAITER: Your table will be right over here.

Dave, Nikhil, Reza, and Mirasol all tense up, immediately turning their gaze to their table and trying as hard as possible not to notice the newcomers. Sam, however, does not follow their lead, and Li gives her a glare.

SAM: Hey. What’re you lookin’ at?!

RYE: You. You’d better watch yourself...

Gazing curiously at Sam, Li turns her gaze to the other occupants of the table... until she notices Dave.

LI: Wait. I know that face. Reyes?

Dave and the others all groan, knowing that Sam has inadvertently given away their position. Dave reluctantly faces Li.

DAVE: Congratulations, it’s me. What do you want this time?

Li crosses her arms, scowling down at the group.

LI (annoyed): I want to have an enjoyable evening out with my friends, Reyes. But of course you’d just assume I’m up to no good. Without any proof.

MIRASOL: Can you blame him? After everything you’ve--

Dave gives her a look, and Mirasol falls silent.

DAVE (casually): Believe it or not, sounds like we’re here for the same reason you are. So how about we stay out of each other’s way tonight, huh?

SAM: Sorry, am I missing something? Dave, you know these people?

DAVE (sighs): Unfortunately, yes.

ERIS: What was that?! Li, can I--

LI (sternly): Eris.

Throughout the exchange, Rhea has been studying Li intently. Suddenly, she lights up with excited recognition.

RHEA: Oh! Wait, I know who you are! You’re Li, aren’t you? The criminal mastermind? The master thief, the genius behind the Geneva Job and the Monaco Heist, the international woman of mystery who--

Her eyes go wide and she covers her mouth as she realizes what she is saying. Li laughs as Rhea visibly shrinks in her seat, mortified by what she has just blurted out.

RHEA: Oh God, I’m saying too much again, aren’t I? I should probably just be quiet.

DAVE: Yeah. That might be a good-

Before Dave can finish his sentence, Sam abruptly stands up, charging roughly toward Li.

DAVE: Wait, Sam! Stop!

Sam ignores him, only to find herself grabbed by Rye and Eris. Mirasol, Nikhil, and Reza tense, but Dave waves them down. Li smiles.

LI (laughs): Picked up a new partner, have you, Reyes? I gotta say, I like her.

SAM: You’ll like me a lot less as soon as your goons let me go! Now tell me, where can we find Tull?

LI (genuinely confused): ...What?

SAM: Don’t play dumb! Doesn’t take a genius to figure out a criminal mastermind might be the one behind all of this!

RYE (to Li): Want me to punch her?

LI: Let’s not make a scene.

The camera pans around the group to reveal a large group of restaurant staff watching the incident. Sam notices this as well, and after a moment’s hesitation, she relaxes and steps back. Rye and Eris let her go.

LI: You people are all the same: jumping to conclusions with absolutely zero proof. For what it’s worth, I had nothing to do with the Tower Murders. Trust me.

SAM: Bullshit.

Li shrugs innocently.

LI: Hey, don’t get me wrong, we aren’t above criminal activity: stealing here and there, a little fraud, a little extortion... but murdering innocents? That crosses a line. Believe it or not, we do have standards.

RYE (angrily): If we ever got our hands on Tull, we’d kill him ourselves.

DAVE (to Sam): Gotta admit, she ain’t wrong. Li’s record speaks for itself.

SAM (skeptical): Alright, then... if you hate Tull so much, care to give us any leads?

LI: Ha! Like I’d ever help out a cop.

She frowns, thinking for a moment. Then she looks over at Rhea, who somehow manages to shrink even further in her chair under Li’s piercing gaze.

LI: You... you’re not law enforcement, are you? And you’re definitely too innocent to be a celebrity. What’s your angle?

RHEA (nervously): Me? Oh, I’m nobody, just--I’m just a journalist, that’s all! Honest!

Li smirks, and her gaze softens slightly.

LI: Huh. Well, you seem like the genuine type. (to Rye) That ticket stub. Would you kindly?

After a moment’s hesitation, Rye fishes in his pocket, then pulls out a small, torn ticket stub and hands it to Li. She holds it out to Rhea, who takes it.

RHEA (curiously): What’s this?

LI: A clue. From one neutral party to another. (smirks) Give Tull my “regards” when you catch him, would you?

RHEA: Oh! Wow, uh, thanks-

Li, Rye, and Eris turn to continue toward their table. As they walk away, Li turns back toward the group, gazing at Dave.

LI: Reyes. Tread carefully. Tull ain’t just some psychopath. The people he runs with... This is bigger than you realize.

Li continues walking toward her table.

DAVE: Wait! Li, what do you mean? What’s--

LI (firmly): This conversation is over.

Dave turns back toward the others at his table, shrugging. Sam looks curiously at Rhea.

SAM: What is it? What’d she give you?

Rhea holds the ticket stub out, and everyone leans in to get a closer look.

RHEA: I’m not sure... but it might help us find Tull.

_______________________

Next: Technicality

CIU Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @endlesshero1122 @bbaba-yagaa @acidsugar0

MW Tag List: @griselda1121

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professor-abeloved · 5 years ago

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IS THERE EVEN A CANON FILO CHARACTER IN CHOICES?? we be lacking that representation thoOO 😔😔

mirasol bautista bro HAHA https://choices-stories-you-play.fandom.com/wiki/Mirasol_Bautista the main family of The Rules of Engagement have Filipino heritage rin lel tama ka naman tho kailangan natin ng mas maraming representasyon lol

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angstymarshmallow · 7 years ago

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Covert Action Part 2- A Most Wanted Fanfic

[A little note: I wanted to do a part two to this so long ago but lost the inspiration to finish until recently. Since this a continuation - part one is right here. Most Wanted is such a favourite of mine and I wanted to finish this in time before the choicescreates deadline. Kudos to the lovely ladies @mrswalkerwrites @ladyashtonofcordonia and @blazerina that helped me work through some qualms I had with writing this and for supporting me! Also huge thanks to Mags for never giving up on this story @diamondsaregold. There are subtle mentions of torture in here so in case this may be a trigger for you.]

[Summary: Samantha Massey is gone. There is no trace of her, but David Reyes and the rest of the team refuses to give up until they’ve found proof that she hasn’t disappeared off the grid.]

#Choicescreates Round 27 Book: Most Wanted Rating: Teen Pairing: None Hosted by: @pb-choices , @holly-park

“Sam? Sam?! Dammit Sam!” David Reyes’s voice sounded nearly shrill to his own ears, and mildly off-putting compared to his regular facade. When he couldn’t hear her answer - not even the grumble of her agitated breath inside his ear anymore, his feet carried him faster. It had to have been minutes he remained listening. A car started and he could hear grumbles of distinct Spanish.

Shit, shit. Panic flew to his chest and refused to budge as he muttered quick excuses as he rushed through crowds of people. He saw Ryan Summers out of the corner of his eyes, shooting him a puzzled expression before his own darkened in understanding. He spared the celebrity a firm nod, and otherwise ignored the rest of patrons in the hall. Dodging between the flood of guests, he flitted with increasing speed and all he could think about was finding his partner before it was too late.

The nearest exit had to be around here somewhere. “Massey - this isn’t funny,” he croaked, “get the hell out of there.” His breath quickened, “now.”

The voice on the other line hadn’t been his Sam when he finally heard an answer. It was too low and thick of a heavily accent that didn’t sound as if it belonged to his southern partner. His stomach bunched into knots as the man spoke crisply inside his ear.

“You follow us and we kill her.” There was no mistaking the venom inside the tone, nor did his threatening promise fall on deaf ears. It was one of Santos men, if Dave was a betting man, and he was - their case had suddenly become a lot harder.

The detective could barely keep a rein on his temper to snap back at the man, and demand for Sam. He needed to play it coolly. He was Reyes - the Dave Reyes. He couldn’t allow his anger to dictate his own dealings with people. He was a negotiator - not a shit disturber. He tried for patience before speaking.

He wasn’t a man of action without having some sort of plan - but the fresh panic made it difficult for him to think on his feet, and it refused to subside no matter how much he tried. Split seconds turned into a minute, before he spoke thinly. “Look, you don’t need take a civilian. She’s just my date to the gala.” He knew the man on the other line had figured who he was at this point, “I’m a far better trade than her.”

The voice laughed, before he heard the sound of another person - too familiar for it to be anyone except the man they had been hunting for months, speaking clearly inside his ear. “Please do not take me for a fool detective Reyes.”

He nearly stumbled in his step. He hadn’t expected them all to be travelling inside the same vehicle. Shit, that meant they took less men than he had anticipated. “Santos, I don’t think we’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.” He tried to sound smooth, but his pulse was racing as he skirted another corner of the hall. How many did this godforsaken manor have?

“I know exactly who you are Mr. Reyes.” The man tsked, “And this woman too. Samantha Massey, si?”

Dave swallowed so loudly, that Santos laughed. “I think you’re mistaken. I never take work home with me, and I definitely never mix business with pleasure.”

“That’s not what I’ve been told.” He tsked. “Ah detective, while I enjoy our little game I have other things to attend to.” A pause. “We were always three steps ahead of you.”

He cursed. How had he known? Had Sam been right this entire time? Did someone tip Santos off before they arrived here? His voice faltered, “Listen, Santos -”

The line went dead before Dave could finish his sentence. He flung a string of harsh expletives,. As if the situation couldn’t have gotten any worse - there cover was blown.

When he discovered the back entrance of the manor, he quickly sifted through, however his new hope of finding them was short-lived the moment he stumbled outside. His feet merely hit the gravel pavement in the same split seconds of hearing car tires screeching before his eyes turned sharply towards the sound.

Santos’ car had been too dark for his eyes to follow; blending in with the rest of the midnight air before it quickly merging into traffic. Running his hands through his hair, he stared baffled for a moment, wondering how their plan had turned from bad to worse before he could grapple with their circumstances. Giving himself a mental shake, he called the precinct while his eyes caught the sight of the discarded earpiece, almost gleaming under the quiet moonlight.

At further inspection, the device had been deliberately trampled on and with its ruined state any hope of chasing after them had dwindled into nearly nothing. Reza had been the that answered and Dave had quickly begun speaking before the man could say anything.

He uttered another foul curse in the middle of his sentence. The panic was back and it threatened to make him utter a strangled noise of frustration, as he pocketed the earpiece and swung his gaze towards the front of the manor.

For the first time in his life, detective Reyes was unsure how to proceed.

Sam Massey was simply gone.

Nightmares were Dave Reyes’ best friend.

They were acquaintances when his mother died, distant friends from the father he had long become estranged to, and by the time he turned a detective with the endless cases a constant bundle by his desk - it became family.

Usually his nights were filled of them, torturing him through an influx of hazy images and noises. They never allowed for more than five hours of rest. They clung to his mind long after he had awoken and often times he broke out into cold sweats from just the severity of them. Then with added aggravation, the detective would yank his sheets off from on top of him, and his feet would slid into soft bedside slippers before leading him to his balcony for a quick cigarette.

Tonight had been no exception.

Half naked, he padded towards his balcony, arms bunching with tension as his lips inhaled the familiar comfort of smoke filling his bruised lungs. He shuddered once at morning air but otherwise stood impassively as he watched the rest of the city.

His eyes searched below while he inhaled. He watched the early risers that crossed streets briskly towards the subway line, as he listened to the sound of morning L.A. traffic.

These little things comforted him. They had often given him normalcy, made it easier for him to cope with his career. However, they couldn’t deter his mind from lingering on the blonde woman he had grown accustomed to seeing as early as dawn breached the horizon, and stepping inside the station without her suddenly hit him like a swift punch to his gut.

There would be no Sam Massey waiting by his desk with a scowl on her face today. And if he was being completely honest with himself, the more his thoughts lingered, the more he realized how empty he would feel stepping inside of the LAPD department without her.

Stubbing his cigarette on the railing, he dropped it and watched it fall before turning on his heels and walking back inside. He was wasting precious time. Sam wasn’t gone yet, and he had at least twenty-fours before he might never see her again.

He dressed quickly that morning, pulling out the first suit he found and didn’t idle with coffee or toast this morning. His mind had already switched to work, and he only stopped by the front door of his condo.

His eyes caught by a picture he took with his team months ago when Sam had signed on officially into this department. They had taken a picture to celebrate, and he remembered dimly alcohol had quickly followed.

Sam was scowling at the camera.It wasn’t unusual for her to but now on closer inspection, he found her eyes smiling back instead of shooting daggers the way he expected them to. Even if she never had admitted it to him, he knew the woman never regretted a single moment of transferring to their unit.

Shrugging on his jacket, he left with his keys in tow before humming under his breath and hurried to catch the next subway.

The LAPD precinct was bustling with a particular lively morning attitude that didn’t mirror Dave’s as soon as he stepped inside. No matter the time of the day, he could admit there was always something happening. People piled into the department almost as soon as the day begun.

Police officers took civilian reports while others have stopped near the receptionist desk. Dave swept past it, only pausing long enough to give the familiar woman a wan smile before briskly walking ahead. He didn’t feel in the mood for their usual morning banter; he was too focused, too preoccupied and the more time he spent looking for Sam - the sooner he would find her.

The doors rung close and he shifted uncomfortably inside the shaft until the doors opened once again to his familiar floor.

Nikhil and Reza were the first people Dave noticed near the entrance. Nikhil’s signature blue jacket with white stripes always gave him away and Reza not unusually frazzled, had his arms crossed against his grey sweater as he spoke. They were talking in hushed overtones and seemed to be in deep discussion before they noticed him.

Reza was the first to greet him and perked up immediately at the sight of his friend. “Dave!”

Dave couldn’t return his sentiments entirely. It was not that kind of day. He forced a smile. “Morning,” He murmured. “Any update?”

Nikhil, seemingly less oblivious simply nodded before gesturing to Mirasol. “She’s going through Santos profile again. We’re hoping there’s something we missed that’ll help us locate Sam.”

Before Dave could respond, he heard Captain Beckham’s voice booming until the woman appeared in front of him. Her eyebrows were raised and her hands were on her hips; and Dave knew the moment she spotted him that she was not going to be in the mood for pleasantries.

Her eyes were furious but she merely jerked her head towards the direction of her office.

Nikhil and Reza gave him sympathetic looks before getting back to work. Dave mouthed a phrase of distress towards them, but they politely ignored. They all knew what it meant when Beckham used that tone.

“Captain.” Dave greeted as he closed the door behind them.

She barely sat behind her desk before she exploded. “What the hell were you thinking Reyes?” She demanded hotly, “what happened to sticking with the plan?”

He decided to wait until her tirade was finished. He knew better from first hand experience, that it made more sense to wait than interrupt her.

“I never thought I’d see you break orders, especially for such a high profile case.” Her hands went up to cover her face, and when she glanced up again at him, her face softened. “Jesus, and now Sam’s missing…” she trailed off, “how’re you?”

Dave shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He didn’t know why she was asking him. How did she expect him to answer? Sam was gone, and he was partially to blame. He ignored her question. “I’m sorry we ignored your direct orders,” he began stiffly, “the situation changed rather quickly.” His jaw tightened, “and someone knew we were going to be here.”

The captain’s eyes narrowed and she lowered her voice, “you think someone got wind of this,” she frowned, “from our department?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.” He ran frustrated fingers through his hair while his brow furrowed, “but what I do know is that they knew exactly who were even before Sam made contact.”

She bristled, “there’s no way -”

He sighed, “Santos pretty much confirmed it when I spoke to him.” He slipped his hands inside his pockets, “someone tipped them off Captain. Someone deliberately placed us both in danger that night.”

The captain sat back inside her seat. “But that’s impossible.” She muttered thinly. Her face twisted before eyes flitted back. “There were only a small amount of people that knew about this operation.”

“Well either the info got leaked or,” he lowered his voice, “we have a mole inside the precinct.” It dawned on him as he said it that this case had become far bigger than he anticipated. Dirty cops? Drug lords and arm dealers? How far did this all run?

She leaned forward inside her seat, propping her elbows on the desk and sighed as she mulled over his words. “This is more dangerous than I thought,” She spoke as if she had been reading his mind. “I don’t want anyone catching wind of this, well anyone else.”

“You want me to keep it quiet, Captain?”

“For now. Yes.” She raised her eyes to meet him with a careful expression, “only the team needs to know about this while I do a little bit digging myself.”

“And what do I do? You can’t expect me not to look for Sam.” His voice changed, raising with every word he uttered until the captain’s eyebrows arched shrewdly at him. “Sorry, I just -” He made a noise of frustration under his breath.

“I know.” She said quietly, softly sighing. “I know.”

Silence clung for a few hesitant beats as Dave shifted on his feet. “Continue investigating, you’re one of our best and I’m sure team are more than eager to help you find her but,” she lowered her voice again into almost an inaudible, “keep this quiet. If what you’re saying is true - then we’ve got a lot on our plate.”

Dave agreed, inclining his head at her before he headed to her door. He was already formulating his next plan when the captain called out to him.

“Oh and Reyes?”

He turned to meet her firm nod, “Be careful.”

He nodded back, before disappearing down the hall. He was still reeling from their discussion when he spotted Mirasol by her desk. He didn’t waste anytime, he took quick strides in her direction.

She was too wrapped in whatever busied her screen at his approach. Her hair was in a simple bun - it’s natural state, Dave thought by all means as he cleared his throat to catch her attention.

No such luck.

Her tiny frown was a comfort that reminded him too much of Sam as he leaned against the corner of her desk. “Good morning,” He greeted, and this time he placed a lot of strain in keeping his tone friendly and light.

Her dark brown eyes snapped up at him. Something passed between them bfore he felt them turn sympathetic. “You can cut the bullshit.” Her face softened a little from it’s usual half scowl, “ I know you’re having a bad day.”

“A bad day,” Dave agreed, “probably a bad week. I just need to know if there’s anything we missed. Something that could help us figure out where Santos took her.”

Mirasol shook her head, “nothing much from my end other than what we already know about him.” Absently, she gripped the chain around her neck.

“I was analyzing the footage from the security camera from the gala last night,” Reza mumbled, walking over with Nikhil in tow. “I was hoping I could catch their licensed plate of their vehicle or something else that could point us into some direction.”

“Did you?” Dave lifted a brow.

“I did!” Reza’s enthusiastic nod didn’t last long. “But it doesn’t add up. It belonged to a man from one of the mechanics downtown after I ran his prints. The car’s a rental.” He folded his arms.

“Well that’s better than nothing,” Dave muttered, sighing under his breath. “I should go talk to him, maybe see if he’ll give us a name -”

“You and I both know he won’t.” Nikhil interrupted, running a hand through his jet black hair. “Besides, I called as soon as he opened and he doesn’t remember the name of the man.” He rolled his eyes, “likely story but I’m sure one of Santos’ men must have paid him off or something.”

“But there must be something,” Dave insisted.

“He did mention the man who rented it had a tattoo, some kind of a half moon -” Nikhil gestured with a flicker of his wrist towards Mirasol, “sketched but it’s not enough to go on. The mechanic didn’t recall what the man looked like.”

“That’s not coincidental.” Dave straightened his shoulders. He was fighting through blind panic. None of this was much to go on.

No, not here.

He couldn’t lose it here.

His team was looking at him with the same feelings he had been wrestling with all night. He couldn’t abandon all hope. And this was Sam Massey he was talking about - she was tough as nails. No matter where she was; he would find her.

He rolled up his cuff-links. “We’ll start over, look at everything we have.” His tone had an edge of desperation he couldn’t quite mask. “There’s something we missed,” there has to be. He wasn’t giving up on her, and as he glanced at the grim determination on their faces, he knew they wouldn’t too. They would work as a well oiled machine until they found her.

Meanwhile on the other side of town…

Samantha Massey’s fingers clenched until she could break the surface of her own palm, scratching nimbly to distract her. It hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain she felt once the man in front of her fists had connected. That had been much worse, knocking the breath right out of her before she inhaled sharply. For a moment, she swore saw stars.

Her eyes threatened to glaze over and tears formed from the stinging sensation that was left behind. The pounding inside her head increased. She spat out blood at the side of her feet as the man loomed forward, close enough for her to smell faint alcohol on his breath.

The man had switched between Spanish and English during the evening but now that it was morning, he seemed to simply had it with how stubbornly quiet Sam had been.

It was difficult when torture had started, but she’d be damned to break down in front of anyone - let alone a complete stranger who for all intense purposes, would be at the bottom of her boots if she hadn’t been tied to this chair. She glared at him, drawing her teeth back to spit again.

“How did you know Santos was going to be at the gala?” The man’s voice rumbled.

She didn’t respond.

It was better to keep conversation to a minimum anyway, and for the most part, she tried to distract herself with her surroundings; making a mental note of anything that stood out to her. If she was going to get out here alive, she had to make sure she knew an exit way. When she got out alive, she corrected herself.

The man’s breath was nearly by her neck, and she bit back the shudder she felt creeping up her spine when she heard him speak. “You know there’s other ways to get you to speak…it doesn’t have to be so hard.” His hand had traveled up her thigh and she dug her heels inside the ground beneath her feet.

When he pulled away enough for his eyes to roam her torn cleavage, she reeled her head back enough to connect with his. The explosion inside her head had been almost instantaneous, and she gritted her teeth before she could cry out in pain.

She took some satisfaction in seeing the man stumble back, clutching his head before snarling at her. “You stupid bitch!”

She would smile if it didn’t hurt so much to breathe. “My momma could hit better than you.” She sneered.

She braced herself for another punch until she her heard another voice join the room. Her eyes were nearly swollen shut, but she could still make out the handsome gentleman dressed inside his tailored suit from last night.

“Milo, that isn’t how we treat our guests.” The gentleman tsked.

The other man had bowed his head gravelly as he approached, and muttered an apology that Sam barely caught.

She waited until Santos was right in front of her before she spat blood by his feet.

He barely jumped out of the way in time, before fixing her with a dark expression. “You know this would be over if you just told us what we wanted to know. I am a patient man after all,” he pulled up his cuffs, “but eventually patience has its limits.”

Sam snorted, and flinched almost a second after. She felt her skin crawl as his hands deftly held up her chin.

“Such a pretty face. Tis a pity really, I could cover you from head to toe in jewels, if you’d only give me what I want.” His fingers gripped her chin so tightly that it stung. “Who else knows how deep my market runs, hmm? Who else in your department apart from Detective David Reyes knows about my plan?”

At the sound of her partner’s name, Sam stiffened. Her eyes shot daggers at the man and Santos chuckled in response. “Yes, I know all about him too.” He tsked, “for people that work under the law - you two haven’t been very bright.”

Stubbornly, she remained quiet.

“And if you aren’t careful, Reyes will soon join you here. Or,” he added softly, voice a menacing whisper, “maybe I’ll send you in pieces to his doorstep if you don’t give me what I want.”

His eyes held hers and she didn’t waver in her glower. Eventually, he released her chin, and when he did droplets of blood dripped from his fingers. “This one is stubborn,” he stood and his smile made her heart lurch. “But even the most stubborn can be broken.” He stepped back and nodded to the other man that Sam had almost forgotten.

She knew even before she felt the sharp pain shoot up her spine that there was no way she was getting back out alive. Not unless she told them the names of all her team. She wouldn’t - Billy had raised her better than that and her lasts thoughts were of him before she felt darkness threatening to grab her under again. This time, she succumbed as her screams seemed to echo throughout the room.

#most wanted #dave reyes #sam massey #covert action part 2 #choices stories you play #choicescreates round 27 #david reyes #samantha massey #reza fassihi #nikhil mantha #mirasol bautista #ryan summers #playchoices #most wanted fanfic #edit later #whew i finished this in time bless

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