the fbi may have dismissed him , but there is still no worse act than those of what his father has committed . malcolm with a hand over his face keeps his gaze through his window as somehow magically his father would appear . he is too smart to appear in the city though . if he’s truly escaped he’d head for a secluded , hidden area . malcolm’s mind is already beside itself trying to SOLVE that mystery of where he’d go . to what ?? to meet him ?? call for back up to CATCH HIM ?? the profiler is too curious to let this end right yet .
he did solve the case and no matter how BITTER he may be with the fbi he cannot fault them . he can … but not to the degree that his father holds . that hatred for doing their jobs and catching KILLERS like him . what does he say though ?? DR. WHITLY speaks the truth , MOSTLY , society does not appreciate him but he does not see why they WOULD . not as if his father is willing to allow him a word , but for the moment malcolm is THANKFUL his father likes to hear himself talk .
his memories fail him with nothing more than flashes and fractions of time . he remembers the knife , running in hand with it , but not much else . still just the talk of it forces anxiety to run full hilt through him . his hand begins to shake and he tightly SQUEEZES it into his palm . “I wouldn’t be so SURE , “ the game IS dangerous but that has never stopped the profiler before . every moment that passes is one moment more he is missing out on ANSWERS . he has to play this game that his father hosts if he wants them .
his blood runs COLD with the last words . there’s a hostage . TWO . coordinates will come and malcolm HAS to come alone . a shaky breath is released through the receiver clearly stating malcolm KNOWS that he has no choice but to confirm his cooperation . “I understand ,” yes . a dangerous game it is but also one that he’ll run head first into when LIVES are at stake .
a chuckle into the phone , the response was expected . ❛ such a hero complex , john was right . ❛ the words practically whispered in that husky voice . ❛ you're so very brave , malcolm . running head long into danger . you know what i'm capable of my boy and yet there is no hesitation . there was an exhale of breath , exasperated it was heard across the phone line and there was silence for a long moment before the eldest whitly spoke . ❛ i don't expect to be free for long , my boy . just tonight , i only need tonight . ❛ cryptic , there was a smile in soft toned voiced . then a click . dial tone . moments later a text came through and it was literal gps coordinates .
phone was set down and back was to the couch . there was a voice from behind the surgeon . ❛ you think this is wise , martin ? i mean not to state the obvious but you're leading him right to you , to us . ❛ john watkins spoke , calm . curious as to what exactly the plan was . ❛ is this a gift for me ? hm ? you're gonna finish what we started those years ago ? ❛ humor colored tone now . the scar embedded into his side began to burn , ache . ( oh malcolm what a bad boy you were )
the surgeon offered a stolen glance over shoulder toward the former protege . ❛ mm well , we'll see when he gets here won't we john ? ❛ eyes shone with a forced muted anger . was it true ? was the attack on malcolm true by the junkyard killer ? still , there was that smile . predatory in nature , reserved for each previous victim .
the woods were silent , moon half full allowed for some light but not much . instead when there was motion around the perimeter of said cabin several flood lights were activated as the young whitly came forward . door opened and beyond it was martin whitly , arms extended outward , offering a joyous grin , ❛ malcolm , my boy ! ❛ and finally ! finally they were able to hug . from behind , in the shadow the surgeon did john watkins stand feet apart arms folded across chest , ❛ welcome home brother . ❛ a smile slick and smarmy .
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