Chapter 4(?)

Paul Barret paced around the body, his footsteps loud and echoing in the cold, sterile room. Never before had he seen such an anomaly. No gunshot wounds, no lacerations, no signs of a struggle, not even a drop of blood on his suit. The autopsy had revealed no further clues to the man's death, no internal bleeding, no poison, nothing.

And yet, when they had found him, it was clear the man was in as much pain as the human body could process when he had died. Paul couldn't help but to shudder, the contorted body, covered in sweat and tears, the man had bitten his own tongue off before dieing, it was all still fresh in his mind.

The chief would be down soon, looking for answers, looking for evidence, looking for any sort of clue to give them direction. But he had nothing but what they already knew. And what they knew, in a way, made them know even less. As Andres had realized at the crime scene, the body belonged to El Alacrán, the biggest crime lord in South America. This was further proven when Paul had matched the dead man's DNA to that in their database. But El Alacrán had been unseen for years, and then to suddenly show up, dead, in some insignificant warehouse?

The other men left even fewer clues. They too lacked any wounds or inflictions. It seemed eight men had simply dropped dead for no reason at all. Their DNA had to be run through the entire database in search of a match, it would take days for any result.

Paul checked his watch, seconds to midday. The Chief had said he'd be down at noon, and ever punctual, Paul heard the tapping of his footsteps approaching down the hall.

Moments later the door burst open, "You'd better have something"

Paul sighed, "Well... it is El Alacrán"

"Well that answers a helluva lot!" the Chief said sarcastically, "Cause of death? Evidence of the killer?"

Paul slowly shook his head.

"Great. So all we got is eight dead dudes in a warehouse. With absolutely no sign of a killer"

"Have you spoken to forensics?" Hopefully they might have something to lighten the Chiefs mood, Paul thought hopefully.

"They haven't been through much analysis yet, but they're predicting all the fired shells are from the body guards pistols."

"I'm sure we'll find something... it's only been two nights."

"But still, in two nights you expect to find more than nothing!" while the Chief was a brilliant detective, his temper often got a hold of him.

"Chief, Carlos, I'm sure we'll find something..."

The two fell into silence, looking down at El Alacrán's body in thought.

Their thoughts were interrupted by a 'tap tap' of heels on tiles, quickly approaching. Three suited men entered the Autopsy room, their immaculate black suits, dark sunglasses and Secret Service-like ear pieces breathed trouble.

"Um... can I help you? This is a restricted area..." Paul said nervously.

"We are with the Agency. We'll be in charge of the of this investigation now."