THE CRIMINAL FILES ~ Blue Blood

~ E I G H T ~

/Don't need permission, made my decision to test my limits. Cause it's my business, God is my witness, start what I finished. Don't need no hold up, taking control of this kind of moment. I'm locked and loaded - completely focused - my mind is open. All that you got, skin to skin, oh my God. Don't ya stop, boy. All girls wanna' be like that. Bad girls underneath, like that. You know how I'm feeling inside. All girls wanna' be like that. Bad girls underneath, like that. You know how I'm feeling inside... Something 'bout you, makes me feel like a dangerous woman. Something 'bout, something 'bout, something 'bout you - makes me wanna' do things that I shouldn't/ ~ Ariana Grande {Dangerous Woman}

Lily's Perspective

"Okay! Listen up, everybody!" I demanded, with my arms behind my back and a ruler in my hand. In front of me was Kris, Owen, Mac, Jackson, D and Jess all just sitting there keeping a close on the ruler. "This - right here - this ruler, is the ruler of wisdom! And I shall use it to tell you all of my lead."

I began to strut around like an army sergeant when Mac leaned over to Kris. "She's a little...odd, isn't she?"

"No. Just very demanding." She added.

I shot him a toothy smile, returning to the topic. "I was on the phone with Joan, and she found a ton about our mystery guy." I smacked the ruler on his image and continued to do so while explaining.

This was fun.

"Pierce Camel. Forty-six. Divorced. Two children. Retired police Captain of the NYPD. Has a sister living in DC with her daughter Clarissa and her husband Jeffrey."

"Wait, Clarissa is the survivor of the Times Square shooting."

"No, shit, Sherlock." Delilah chimed in, twirling her hair around her finger.

"Well we can rule out organization in the sniper's crimes. Look at these images - three bullets that didn't even get to their intended target." Jessica mentioned, taking a long sip of her coffee.

Kris' eyes scanned over the pictures before something snapped. "Or maybe, there was no target to begin with."

"Are you implying Forensic Countermeasures?"

Kristen got up, pulling the images off and look at them closely. "Well, think about it, the type of bullet we found belongs to a high-level assault rifle. To contain the power of that thing and use it properly takes time, practice and patience. All those qualities indicate a highly-skilled, trained and organized sniper."

"So he's an organized sniper; hiding behind an unorganized crime scene?"

"Exactly."

Mac's phone rang, when he took it out of his pocket and rose it to his ear. "Yes? Yes, that's true. We do?" All of us looked at him curiously. "What's his name? Okay. Okay, I'll be right there. Mac turned off his phone. "We have a guy that can help."

Taylor quickly left, for a moment or two, then came back guiding a tall, lengthy man with short, brown, somewhat curly hair and light brown eyes into the room. He had dark colored dress pants, black dress shoes, a baby-blue button-up shirt, a darker blue suit vest paired with a red tie. He had a knapsack {or whatever you call them} across his shoulders, and the way he stood behind Mac indicated he was kind of socially awkward. And, even I would admit...in the socially awkward, nerdy kind of way...he was a little cute.

Delilah's eyes went wide, as the man took off his knapsack and put it on the table, introducing himself to the team. "I'm Spencer Alvez. I'm a scientist at the Brookhaven National Laboratory in Upton, New York. I have three degrees, a doctorate and two PHD's. All of them to which I hope you'll find acceptable ma'am in allowing me to help you with this case."

He handed Kristen a folder with his credentials in it as he stood there awkwardly. Shyly. But I looked just in time, two see his eyes look up at Delilah who pouted and looked away from the serious reddening of her cheeks. I wanted to scream and flail my arms all over the place and begin to fangirl. But I'm an FBI Agent. I'm cool. And calm.

And...totally gonna' have fun with these lovebirds.

Lily Jones: the Love Whisperer.

That could totally be new hit show on CTV. It would be better than 'Keeping up with the Kardashian's' that's for sure.

"Thank you for your resume. I hear you're also a great mathematician?"

"Yes. And I have earned a doctorate in Human Sciences," he smiled proudly. She gave him a smile back, looked at him then the board.

"Do we have anything wrong with any of our calculations? Because, obviously, we haven't caught the guy - so there must be something."

He nodded curtly, and glanced at D - before turning to the board and studying it carefully. His eyes - I watched them speed off from one end of the board to the other without hesitation. He coughed gently, turning to the team. Hannah had walked in with a pencil tucked behind her ear, and binder beneath her arm pressed to her torso. She pulled out a chair, sitting beside Jackson. She looked forward; he looked at the ground. The both of them looked uncomfortable and awkward.

A smile still came over me. But, instead of being a smile that said, 'aw', it was probably a smile the said, 'this is gonna' be a lot of fun'. That kind.

Spencer fiddled with his fingers, standing there shyly. "I-I-I'm not sure that I can...um...that I can...uh...I don't think I should correct the FBI." He muttered beneath his breath. The words barely leaving his lips.

"It's okay. This'll probably be the only time you can do so, anyway. Like I said, it's fine. Go ahead."

He nodded, coughed, then inhaled deeply and began. "Well, everyone knows that experienced snipers have excellent time accounting skills. So, after the first shot, no one moves. People are stunned. But more or so confused. The first reaction that kicks in for them is to look for the source of the sound. By then the second shot has been fired, which it then takes the average human being one and a half seconds to cognitively process that they are in a possibly life-or-death situation. It takes yet another point seven seconds for people to physically react to what is happening around them; to which the third bullet has been fired."

I looked at the kid. Eyes wide. Jaw open.

God.

How the fuck did this kid know all this?

Everyone there seemed stunned. Delilah looked at him sadly, but seemed surprised as well. After snapping out of her dazed trance from gawking at a twenty-something year old who seemed to be the whole fucking Wikipedia in one body, Kristen got up, looking over one of the vic's. "So the third victim was his intended target."

"Yes, that is correct. After the third shot it would've proven to be even more difficult to find his target. He wouldn't take that big of a chance."

"Guys," everyone turned to look at Jack who seemed confused. "The third victim is Pierce Camel."