Pearce Hudson: #1 My Italian Devil

1. He' back

Jake

I rubbed my eyes tiredly with one hand and using the other hand I typed commands into the computer. I let out a yawn but continued working. I couldn't stop, I was new and needed to show what I was capable of. My colleagues had already profiled me as a weakling and began torturing me.

At first it was innocent pranks: whoopie cushions and salt in coffee then it escalated to messing up my computer hard drive and trapping me in elevators. Who knew being a FBI analyst would this hard?

Three months ago I had graduated from CalTech with a PhD in computer science and now there I was at Quantico working for the government by storing files?

My eyelids were about to droop when a loud slap on my desk jolted me awake.

"Rise and shine newbie," Tyler Grey hovered my shoulder. 

I picked up the file, "What's this?"

"A file on 'Diavolo Italiano'."

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Boss wants you to check to see if the files are up to date."

"I thought that was your job?"

"It is but its 11 and I want to go home. When you're done with that there's more on my desk."

I turned and saw the mountainous pile of light brown files on Tyler's works station.
"Good night!" Grey gave me a wave as he walked out the door.

I cursed and reached for my coffee mug to realize it was empty. I went over to the coffee machine and brewed a fresh batch, it was going to be a long night. I typed in the 'Diavolo Italiano' as myself poured himself a cup of coffee. My computer station started beeping like a car alarm.

I shakily put down the cup and pulled out my phone, "Sir you need to come in."

Pearce
"Okay next round's on me," I giggled. 

"Pearce Hudson, you're trying to get me drunk," my friend Derek Jones pointed out.

"Derek we're already drunk," Vivian Morgan giggled. "Keep'em comin' Pearce."

I let out a laugh as I got out my chair and went over to the bar. We were
celebrating. We had solved one of our tougher cases and saved someone in the process. I knew when I joined the FBI I wouldn't be able to save everyone but everyone now and then when I did, it felt amazing. It was something worth celebrating.

"Another round of tequila," I told the bartender.

"Coming up."

As I waited for my shots I looked at my group of friends at the table laughing and joking away. I smiled. I was happy and nothing could stop that. My phone vibrated in my pant pocket. Jordan Gibson flashed on my phone screen. I rolled eyes as l set down the plate of shots.

My colleagues cheered. I picked up a glass as I answered that phone, "Hi, sir. What's up?"

The shot glass dropped from my fingers and shattered onto the floor. Derek rose from the table and was at my side. 

"Pearce what's wrong?"

I wanted to tell him, but my throat became dry and my lungs ran out of air. My looked into his dark brown eyes.

"He's back."