He adjusted the wire to sit comfortably on his chest. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he prepared to infiltrate the gang he’d been following for years.

Rain pattered against the cracked window, misting the dilapidated warehouse where the notorious Raven Clan gathered for the night. The worn leather jacket that Luke wore was soaked, adding weight to his frame, but he ignored the discomfort, his mind racing with the final touches of his plan. He’d been tracking these guys for so long he could map out their routines in his sleep. Tonight, he was going all in.

Years of undercover work had brought him here. Countless sleepless nights, dark alleys, and hushed conversations with informants who’d all warned him the same thing: once you’re in, there’s no getting out. And the Ravens? They didn’t take kindly to visitors. His jaw tightened, his fingers tapping out a silent rhythm against his thigh to quell the nerves.

The meeting place was a sight, a worn relic in the industrial graveyard of the city, choked with shadows and smells of decay. He slipped through the heavy steel door, greeted by a waft of stale smoke and the sour tang of spilled beer. Inside, men hunched over tables, their eyes wary, hands always a fraction of a second away from concealed weapons. He passed rows of graffitied walls, noticing the emblems etched in crude black spray paint, a raven mid-screech, talons bared. Their brand. Their threat.

Rico, the second-in-command and a brutal thug by any measure, caught sight of him and strode over, his face a mask of suspicion. “You’re the new guy? Snake, right?”

Luke nodded, adopting the swagger of a man who knew the streets. “Yeah. That’s me. Snake.” It wasn’t his best alias, but it would do. Better to let them underestimate him.

Rico’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him for any hint of nerves, any tell that would give away the cop in his midst. Luke remained still, his expression impassive. Finally, Rico grunted and jerked his head, motioning for him to follow.

They walked deeper into the building, the sounds of crude jokes and laughter fading into a tense silence. They reached a back room, where a dozen men circled a table strewn with guns, maps, and a single burning candle that threw flickering shadows on their faces.

Luke recognized a few of them, men with files as thick as bricks back at headquarters, each with a list of crimes that would put them away for life. And at the head of the table sat the man he’d been chasing for years: Marcus “Crow” Delaney, the Raven Clan’s leader, his reputation a twisted legend on the streets. Marcus looked up, his eyes like sharpened knives, weighing Luke in an instant.

“So,” Marcus drawled, his voice rough as gravel. “Snake, huh? Rico vouches for you.”

Luke offered a small nod. “I don’t let people down.”

“That so?” Marcus’s eyes gleamed, and he nodded slowly. “We’ll see about that.” He gestured to a chair at the end of the table. “Tonight’s a big night. We’ve got some business with one of the city’s richest, and I don’t need any weak links. You screw this up, it’s on you and Rico.”

Luke nodded, hiding the sudden chill that ran down his spine. He slipped into the seat, playing the part, but his mind was already working double time, memorizing names, locations, and any hint of their operation. He had one shot to gather intel and get out, and it had to be tonight. Marcus was notoriously cautious; if he suspected Luke for even a second, it would be over.

Marcus leaned forward, his face lit by the candle’s wavering light. “There’s a shipment coming through the docks tonight, one we’ve waited on for months. Weapons, high-end. Stuff that’ll keep the pigs and every rival gang scrambling for months. It’s big. And tonight, you get to earn your place.”

Luke kept his gaze steady, even as dread coiled in his stomach. “I’m in.”

Marcus grinned, a crooked smile that showed too many teeth. “Good. Rico, take him along. Make sure he understands what happens if he even thinks of screwing us over.”

Rico’s hand clapped onto Luke’s shoulder, heavy and unmistakably menacing. “Come on, Snake. Let’s show you the ropes.”

Outside, the rain had stopped, leaving the air damp and thick. Rico led him to a beat-up van parked in the shadows, motioning for him to get in. Luke climbed in, keeping his face neutral, but his senses were on high alert. Two other men were already inside, their expressions cold as steel, guns cradled casually in their laps.

They drove in silence through the city’s underbelly, the streets empty except for flickering neon signs and the occasional homeless figure huddling in a doorway. As they neared the docks, Luke’s pulse quickened. He had to get to the shipment, record whatever details he could, and signal the backup team before things went south.

Rico parked behind a stack of rusted containers. “Alright,” he muttered, loading his gun and handing Luke a second firearm. “This goes south, you better know how to use that.”

Luke took the gun, its weight familiar but repellent. He nodded, masking his disgust with the stoic face of a man who’d seen too much.

They made their way through the maze of shipping containers, shadows stretching long and ominous in the dim light. Luke’s fingers brushed against the wire under his shirt, a fragile lifeline connecting him to the outside world, to the officers waiting nearby. But as they moved deeper, he realized with mounting dread that the gang had other plans.

A flicker of movement caught his eye, a figure crouched by the container, holding a knife. A flash of light, and another figure emerged, their eyes gleaming with murderous intent.

In seconds, chaos erupted.

Gunfire echoed in the narrow alleys, flashes of light illuminating faces twisted in rage and fear. Luke threw himself to the ground, heart pounding as bullets ricocheted off the metal containers. One of Rico’s men fell, blood spreading in a dark stain across his chest, his body hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

Luke crawled forward, his hands slick with sweat as he unholstered his gun. He pressed himself against a container, catching his breath, his mind racing. The shipment was here, somewhere close. He had to find it, if he came back empty-handed, everything he’d worked for would be lost.

In the chaos, he spotted Rico, gun drawn, his face a mask of fury. “Snake!” he roared, his voice hoarse. “Get over here!”

Luke dashed forward, skidding to a halt beside Rico. “What’s the plan?” he panted, hoping the tremor in his voice passed for adrenaline.

Rico’s eyes were wild. “We go in, take down anyone who gets in our way.”

They charged forward, weaving between the containers. Luke kept close, waiting for the moment he could break away, his heart hammering as they rounded a corner. And then he saw it, the shipment. Crates stacked high, each one labeled with a red ‘X’ that marked it as the Ravens’ prize.

Before he could stop himself, he spoke into the wire, his voice barely a whisper. “Got the shipment. East side of the docks.”

The words barely left his mouth when he felt the impact. A heavy blow to his back, knocking him forward. Rico stood behind him, gun aimed, his face a mix of betrayal and rage.

“You really thought you could outsmart us, cop?”

Luke’s mind went blank, his body numb as the pain seared through him. The warehouse faded into shadows, the taste of blood sharp in his mouth as he realized too late that his cover was blown, and his mission had led him right into the Ravens’ unforgiving hands.

The cold night air bit at his face as he crouched behind a stack of rusted barrels. He could hear the muffled sounds of the city in the distance—car horns blaring, a siren wailing, and the faint hum of a subway train rattling through the underground tunnels. But here, in the abandoned warehouse district, everything was eerily quiet. It was the perfect place for the gang to hide, and the perfect place for him to begin his mission.

He reached up to adjust the tiny wire that was taped behind his ear. The wire was connected to a small earpiece, hidden under his thick, dark hair. He needed to ensure it was secure—there would be no second chances tonight. The earpiece was his lifeline, his only connection to his team monitoring from a distance. With a steady hand, he pressed it firmly against his skin, feeling the cold metal bite into his flesh for a moment before it settled into place. The wire was in, and the connection was live.

He steadied himself, taking a deep breath to calm the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat loud and echoing in his ears. His mind raced with the briefing he had studied a hundred times before: names, faces, habits, everything he could use to blend in. He couldn't afford to slip up. If they even suspected he was an outsider, he'd be dead before he could draw his weapon.

He adjusted the collar of his leather jacket, making sure it covered the telltale signs of his equipment underneath. He had chosen this outfit carefully—just enough wear and tear to look convincing but sturdy enough to protect him if things went south. His hands, calloused from years of training, flexed as he reached for the cold metal of the knife strapped to his belt. A necessary evil, he thought, feeling its weight.

“Agent Ryder, do you copy?” A voice crackled in his ear, low and tense. It was Jenna, his handler.

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the gentle wind rustling through the warehouse. He couldn't risk being overheard.

“Remember, this is a recon mission,” Jenna continued. “Get inside, find out what you can, and get out. Don’t engage unless absolutely necessary. We need intel on their next move, not a body count.”

“Understood,” Ryder replied, already moving toward the side entrance. He slipped through the shadows, his movements fluid and silent, a shadow among shadows. He had trained for years for this moment—weeks of planning, days of scouting the area, hours of rehearsing every possible scenario. Now it was time to execute.

As he reached the side door, he pulled out a small tool from his jacket—a lockpick, custom-made for silent entry. He knelt down, his fingers working the lock with a practiced ease. It clicked open after a few seconds, and he pushed the door gently, just enough to slip through. Inside, the air was musty and cold, the darkness nearly complete save for a few dim lights hanging from the ceiling. He paused, letting his eyes adjust to the gloom, listening for any sound of movement.

Footsteps. Heavy and slow, approaching from somewhere deeper in the building. Ryder pressed himself against the wall, his breath shallow and controlled. He waited, counting the steps, timing his next move. As the sound drew closer, he ducked behind a stack of crates, his heart hammering in his chest.

A figure appeared, a burly man with a shaved head and a cigarette dangling from his lips. Ryder recognized him from the photos—a low-level enforcer, but dangerous all the same. The man paused, looking around with a suspicious glare. Ryder held his breath, willing himself to become invisible.

After a moment, the man grunted and moved on, his footsteps fading into the distance. Ryder let out a silent sigh of relief. He had made it this far, but the hard part was just beginning. He slipped deeper into the warehouse, keeping to the shadows, every sense on high alert.

He needed to find the leader—an elusive figure known only as “The Wolf.” According to the intel, The Wolf was planning something big, something that could change the balance of power in the city’s underworld. Ryder had to find out what it was before it was too late.

He continued down a narrow corridor, following the faint sound of voices up ahead. They were gathered in a large room, several figures clustered around a table covered in maps and documents. Ryder crouched behind a half-open door, straining to hear.

“—next shipment is coming in tomorrow,” a gruff voice said. Ryder recognized it immediately—it was The Wolf. “Make sure everything’s ready. No mistakes this time.”

Ryder’s pulse quickened. This was the information he needed. He slowly reached into his jacket, pulling out a tiny camera. He needed to get a shot of the documents, but he had to get closer. He edged forward, careful not to make a sound, his eyes never leaving the group at the table.

Suddenly, the earpiece crackled to life again. “Ryder, you’ve got company coming in from the east entrance,” Jenna’s voice warned. “Get out now!”

Ryder’s heart skipped a beat. He glanced around, spotting another doorway to his left. He moved quickly, slipping through just as he heard the heavy footsteps approaching. He pressed himself against the wall, his breath coming in short, controlled bursts.

He was so close. He could see the documents clearly now, the maps and the names. He raised the camera, his hands steady, and snapped the photos he needed. Then, without wasting a second, he turned and made his way back the way he had come.

The gang members were moving now, spreading out through the warehouse. Ryder kept to the shadows, moving quickly but carefully. He could see the exit just ahead, the faint sliver of moonlight cutting through the darkness. He was almost there.

“Agent Ryder,” Jenna’s voice came again, more urgent now. “You need to move faster. They’re onto you.”

Ryder sprinted the last few feet, bursting through the door and into the night. He didn’t stop, didn’t look back. He could hear shouts behind him, the sound of feet pounding against the pavement. He kept running, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his legs burning with effort.

He darted down an alley, weaving through the narrow passageways, his mind focused on the escape route he had memorized. He could hear the gang members shouting behind him, but he didn’t slow down. He had what he needed. Now he just had to make it out alive.

He rounded a corner and saw the safehouse up ahead, a small, nondescript building hidden among the shadows. He pushed himself harder, every muscle screaming in protest. He reached the door, yanking it open and slamming it shut behind him. He collapsed against the wall, his chest heaving, his body trembling with adrenaline.

“Ryder, are you safe?” Jenna’s voice came through the earpiece, laced with concern.

“I’m safe,” he panted, pulling himself to his feet. “I’ve got the intel. We’re one step ahead now.”

“Good work,” Jenna said, relief evident in her voice. “Get some rest. We’ll debrief in the morning.”

Ryder nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. He pulled off the earpiece and the wire, setting them on the table. His mission was over, but the war was just beginning. He knew this was only the start, and there was no telling what would come next. But for now, he had done what he came to do.

He had infiltrated the gang, and he had lived to tell the tale.

Joe was just a normal guy, or at least he was until two years ago. Joe had started to date a girl that was not his typical type. She did not work. She would stay out late most nights, and had friends that had eith been in prison or just got out of prison. These were her friends since junior high. Joe grew up as the honor roll student alll through junior high and highschool. Joe’s family did not undrsatnd what he saw in Tiffany. She always seemd to have money even though she did not work.

Joe family was always worried he would end up loosing everything if he kept dating her. The worst thing would be if something happened to Joe while he was with her friends. Her friends were the typical gangsters you would imagine. The had the baggy pants, white tank top undershirts, and baandanas wrapped under thier hats. Joe’s parents could not figure out how Tiffany always had money even thouh she never worked.

One day joe got a call from his father, “We need to talk when you get home”. That is never good when parents call and tell their child that at any age. Joe’s dad had gotten a certified letter from the government that Tiffany was being watched. The cops neede Joe’s help.

The cops decide to bug Joe’s cellphone and he would ear a wire any time he was around Tiffany and her friends. The next day the cops came over to show him how to wear the wire. That night as he walks up to tiffany’s house to pick her up for dinner. He djusted the wire that is taped to his chest. He takes a deep breath to stop shaking and calm himself down. He does not know how he will infilrate the gang that he has gotten to know over the last year.

If this wire picks up anything against not only Tiffany;s friends, but also Tiffany. That means Joe would loose his friends and girlfriend just to help the cops get them. Joe is very worried how far this wire on him would have to go. The cops told Joe he would have to wear it until the had what they needed. He could not tell Tiffany or even his own family about the wire or he would be arrested.

Undercover cop Steady as you go Stay the line All in time

Leo fixed the wire hidden under his shirt then went down the darkened alleyway Windsor Central is a thriving city yet in the West District violence roams Investigator Leonardo Silver was walking down a street in Windsor when a young woman ran up to me

“Mr. Silver! There’s been a murder!.” The girl said in shuddering breaths

Silver was taken back by the news then snapped into focus

“Calm down Miss, can you tell me what happened.” Silver said calmly he was trained for all types of distraught people

Silver noticed her appearance more now that she calmed down a bit. She seemed to be around twenty one years old with brown eyes Her brown hair was braided into a tight bun her dress looked worn and torn around the bottom and a red stain on the side

“Mr. Sliver I’m Rose,” she said more calmly “My boyfriend has been kidnapped, down in the West District he he told me to run I didn’t know what else to do.”

Mr. Silver studied how fidgety she was then responded “ I thought you said there was a Murder, Miss Rose?” Silver said carefully

She seems shocked at first then regained her composure “ Mr. Silver it was the only way to get your attention, My boyfriend was mugged and kidnapped a week ago, Iv been saying the same thing every day for a week now to any investigator who would listen. Even the Guards won’t hear my pleas!”

He adjusted the wire to sit comfortably on his chest. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he prepared to infiltrate the gang he’d been following for years. The Monster Kings of New York City who nobody knew and police were scared. They killed anyone who got in their way, their way of survival fighting wars that nobody knew. A war with the devil deep in their soul that never would leave and let people live. They lived to kill any shadow of hope, and so he was ready to take on the task. To kill the King and scatter the rest. It was his job to take down the one who knew too much of the woman he loved.
And as he waited, the wire stayed still, watching and praying the King would pass by. King James Arthur all dressed in black with a guard on each side as they sat in the car, scanning the streets for his love Dianne. Dianne who conceived and lost at the end, feeble and soft from the world of shattered dreams. Frank loved Dianne more than she knew, and the king had nothing but lust of her softness, her soul so vulnerable she never looked up but caved to the pain she couldn’t let go. He wanted to have in more ways than one, and it made Frank sick to think that he could. Tempting to have her, the men stepped out of the back of the Lincoln, legs and all as they walked down the street as if they owned all of New York and just made Frank want to kill the bastard for nothing but pain to see him bleed, the smirk look on his face making him grit his teeth and mumble in silence “You’ll never see daylight you son of a bitch” and then stood up and yell “Hey asshole” he yelled, as he stood there and waited for hell to break loose. It was time to kill and protect Dianne from a world of dark she knew nothing about.
The three men heard him and jerked their heads to see Frank smiling with the wire he had and no idea why, but they were all ready as they began walking a steady fast pace across the street where he was hiding. And Frank couldn’t wait for the biggest surprise. “Is there a problem, asshole?” he said as the two other men stood on each side of Frank, ready to take him and break his small neck.
“Yeah, her name is Dianne and you’re about to die” he finished, then took the wire and within three seconds had the Kings neck, choking and gasping for air to breathe as five other men came to join him and took down the guards like a tiger let loose out in the wild.
The war grew loud with kicking and yelling like dogs in the street, adrenaline pumping as bodies went flying or fall to death until all that was left was blood on the street and people yelling for the war to stop as others recorded and called the police.
And the last man standing was Frank Ezra Jones, the father of the one who never saw life as police slowly came and Frank was gone, gone like the wind without even a trace accept the wire around the King’s broken neck.
Frank walked away where no one could see, cried his last tears and pulled out his gun. The sun was setting and the city lights twinkled as he then took a breath and leaned back in the ally against the brick wall of an old pizza shop, put the gun to his temple, and said “I love you Frank Jr” and fell over dead.

He ajusted the wire to sit comfortable on his chest. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he prepared himself to infiltrate the gang he’d been following for years. “Ready?” Asked one voice from above him “Always.” He replied solomly, another deep breath in. “Start it up!” Electricity shot through his body, he lay there, convulsing silently. He had to do this. The boy who was supposed to stay next to him at all times suddenly walked away. What was going on? The pain in his body aplified, his blood curdling screams perced the air. They knew, they knew he was planning to betray them, but how? His pain cut of, the noise around him went silent, as death gripped its in his claws.

“He adjusted the wire to sit comfortably on his chest. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he prepared to infiltrate the gang he’d been following for years …and then he saw her.” Clara drops the book on her coffee table and runs quickly to get her vibrator. Her bear legs, now uncovered by the blanket laying on the sofa, feel the cold chill of the night. She just sat down a couple of minutes ago and now she realized she can’t read her novel without her vibrator. She had to use her only peaceful night while her party-girl roommate was out.

It was the best plan ever, she thought to herself. Tucked in her short pijamas underneath a furry blanket with a cup of tea reading her naughty book. As she was coming back she hit her toe in the corner of the coffee table, cursed at it and jumped in the couch grabbing her book swiftly with her free hand.

She continued. “It was the girl he had seen in the bar last week, the one with the sexy arm tattoo and the long semi curly hair. Milena. That was her name. What was she doing there? He thought, could it be possible she was a wolfclaw member too?.

As he continued walking, he regained his confidence and pretended not to picture the sexy lingerie he took off her curves a couple of nights before. She was hungry and mad, not ar him but at something. Life maybe.”

Katydids rioted in the night. Tommy slapped his neck while Jer eyed the moonless country road. Wilted from the heat, both leaned against the grill of Lou’s SUV. Even with the sun down it was still Dearborn hot. Headlights appeared up the road. Jer jumped to attention and nudged Tom to do the same. Scratching his neck, Tommy stood. He adjusted his rifle strap. The headlights grew closer.

The approaching Jeep pulled up and stopped on the lonesome road. Its driver and passenger didn’t get out. Jer watched the pair argue in the Jeep’s front seat. Tommy looked for a blunt in one of his MOLLE vest’s many pockets. Minutes inched by.

Finally Trevor, leader of the 13 Stripes, climbed out of the SUV and stood in the glow of the Jeep’s headlights.

“Look I didn’t come here for dinner and a movie. Let’s do this shit,” Trevor said.

The pair in the Jeep stared at Trevor and then continued to argue. Shrugging, Trevor started walking back to his car. Following his cue, Tommy and Jer turned in unison and headed for the driver’s side and the passenger side respectively.

The Jeep’s door opened.

“Hey we said only bring one other person.”

“They’re a matching set. One’s no good without the other. Deal or no deal but no parley. If I wanted to hear an asshole I would have stayed home with the wife and farted,” Lou said with his workboot on the SUV’s door well.

Jer laughed. Tommy laughed and farted. Jer laughed harder.

“Okay, okay,” Nate said looking back and forth, “Waylon is nervous about any deviation from the established plans. You did bring the cash?”

Walking back to the beams of headlights, Trevor opened the top of his big tactical rucksack. Green rolls of cash winked in the bug filled light. Nate reached for a roll of the greenbacks. With a lightning crack, Tommy racked his shotgun. Jer grinned with a stony glare.

“It’s okay, Tom and Jerry. Reach in Mister and examine a roll. But I am telling you on my honor, the 13 Stripes are true patriots not criminals. We stand by our word,” Trevor said.

Nate stared deep into Trevor’s eyes and then backed away. He pounded on the hood of the Jeep.

“They’re legit, Waylon.”

The other man slowly exited the Jeep and opened the rear. They all walked to the other vehicle. Jer scanned the terrain. Tommy looked again for that missing blunt. With a flick, Waylon revealed the gun shipment from beneath a layer of tarp.

Trevor stood aside with the gun dealers from Boise. Sweating, Tommy and Jer carried the guns from the Jeep to the SUV.

“You all right, bra?” Tommy asked after the last load of guns were hidden in the SUV.

“Yeah, I have an itchy feeling feeling being watched feeling,” Jer said.

Tommy lit his blunt and held his lighter up to Jer’s face. “Relax, Jer Bear, that’s just a little of your PTSD. Pass That Shit Dude.”

Jer thought for a moment and then laughed getting his pal’s joke. Jer took a puff by the lighter’s light and headed for the driver’s seat. Tommy’s face grew suddenly serious holding his lighter up for another second to make sure the ATF agents saw his signal and knew that the weapons transfer was complete. Tommy’s dopey expression returned like a cloud crossing the moon.

“The Idaho GateKeepers are proud of what you’re doing. We saw that capitol takedown shit on TV and we all follow you on youtube. You are the spark on the cannon of the next civil war. I wanted to shake your hand and say I hope you tear her up and take our country back,” Waylon said shaking Trevor’s hand.

Trevor swaggered all the way back to his car. Smiling at a job well done, Jer did a K turn on the dark road and headed for the long drive back to base. Pretending to doze off, Officer Tomas Villa thought about an undercover assignment nearly done.

"Are you nervous?" her voice echoed all around him; inside him. "I'm not the one who should be nervous." He avoided her question because he was, in fact, extremely nervous as he stood in the dark alleyway, smoking and waiting. Waiting for her to slip up, finally.

Her laugh boomed out, crackling and crazy. "Your cute. Adorable even, what's your name?" Her question hung between them as he pondered if he should lie or not. If she was asking his name it meant she already knew it, she was the faceless gang leader after all. She knows everyone but no one knows her, except her gang members of course, but they are more loyal than dogs.

He decided to take a risk instead.

"I'll make a trade; my name for yours." He called out into the dark.

"I'll counter your offer; your name for your life." The second she finishes her sentence a bullet whizzes past his shoulder, barely missing him. His breath hitches as he looks into the direction it came from, only to find nothing and nobody.

"My name... is Mort." He hated his own legal name, and rarely went by it. They used to call him "Mort the Wart" in school so he told everyone his name was Blaise.

"Not Blaise?" she mused as he felt his palms go warm with sweat. How did she know that?

He took a deep breath before answering but it didn't help. "I changed my name when I was fourteen, after my mother drowned herself in the local lake. I didn't want any... reminders." His heart was beating faster than it ever had before. Maybe telling her a secret would make her trust him.

"Drowned herself?" the question eats him alive as regret grabs hold of him; he hasn't spoken about his mother for years.

"My mother was always... troubled. After my father left her, she refused to leave the house until eventually she snuck out of the house in the middle of the night to the lake after leaving a suicide note. She look the rowboat out into the middle where she drilled holes into it and laid in it until she drowned, unable to swim to save herself if she wanted. Are you happy now?" he demanded, angry now and no longer caring about catching her. He wanted to kill her.

"I'm delighted." Her voice was flat and before he could even move, a second bullet came out of nowhere; this one went straight through his heart. He dropped to the floor with a disturbing thud.

She jumped off the roof and grabbed his dead body, holding it close as she studied him. Yes, it was definitely him. Mort Bernard, the son of Alice and Claude Bernard. All three were dead now.

First, it had been Claude. She had killed him after kidnapping him on his way home from work, and dumped him into the ocean.

Then, it had been Alice. Oh, poor, sweet little Alice. She had been the toughest to kill because although her husband "leaving" had crushed her, she loved her son enough to keep her going. So she had called Alice and changed her voice on the call, telling Alice she knew where her husband was and gave her details only Alice would know.

Alice had been so happy, overjoyed as she hung up the phone with the promise to meet at the lake that night. She had held Alice at gunpoint as she forced her to write the note she would leave on the kitchen table for Alice's son to find in the morning. She had then forced Alice onto the boat, promising Alice she would not touch her son if she did exactly as she said.

It was only once the row boat was in the middle of the lake that Alice realised it had holes in it and that she would die. Alice had screamed until the lake had drowned it out.

Now, she had gotten the last one.

And as she watched Mort's body drown into the same lake she was reminded of why she set out to do this in the first place. How, years ago, her father had thrown both her and her mother into the ocean off of their boat and only she had survived. He had wanted to start over with his mistress who was expecting a son, so he had tried to bury them in water to drown them out of this world. Now after years of planning her revenge, she had been the one to bury them all in water so they could be punished like her and her mother had been.

She spits in the water where her half-brothers body had been before taking off her black mask and throwing it in after him; her life of crime was over, for now.