POV HAL:

Jack and I reach our destination after a silent drive. I didn't know what to say to him after knowing who he is. I'm glad I sent Riley after Samuel; I know my partner will be able to protect him.

I try to relax my body from revealing my anxiousness. My good hand brushes against the tape recorder in my coat pocket. I was able to swipe it in time before leaving the office. I've decided to confront Ethan head on and hopefully the man will spill everything to someone he believes is weak from injuries.

The two of us enter the apartment building. Jack already has the room number, so we head straight there. Before he knocks on the door, we can hear a high pitched bark from the other side. The lady's dog can be heard pawing at the door with its little feet.

"Muffins! Come here you adorable lil shit!" says an old lady voice inside; the barking dies down. The locks to the entrance are unlocked and it opens a bit to reveal a wrinkled face. She glares at us both then nods, "Yee, a copper, alright. Come in sonnies. I got a story to tell yah." What's with this city and their old women calling us 'coppers?' The door swings wide open, almost hitting Jack.

I close it behind us then glance to the growling tan dog wearing a bright pink tutu. I can't blame it; I would be irritated all the time if I was forced to wear an atrocious neon color.

The old woman smiles, "Now Muffins, be kind to them. They are going to question me about Catherine now." She pets the head of her dog.

I allow Jack to question the lady as I lean against the archway that connects the kitchen and the living room. He already has the pocket notebook out and begins writing down whatever  he deems useful with a swift movement of his pen. The woman rambles on with her fast-paced explanation while Jack tries to keep up.

Disappointment grows inside me as I watch the rookie do his work. If only... if only this isn't how it ends. What path must a man suffer through to choose a route that ruins his future? His potential- that natural talent for our work- is blatantly there.

But he's got to do his time...

Jack closes his notebook and nods to the lady with a forced smile. The dog in the tutu, Muffins, barks ferociously, leaping out of her arms. The rookie's eyes widen when it goes for his ankle. He curses through grit teeth when it bites through his pants. I hurry to rip the little shit off him by scooping it up from under with my good arm. The damn thing struggles in my stone-like hold. It ends up upside down in my one arm, kicking its small leg, and its tutu brushes the side of my jaw.

Okay, I love dogs but there's a few "pet" peeves that I have to list. One, if the dog can be lifted effortlessly in one hand, it's an ankle-bitter. Two, if the dog's bark his higher than a baby's cry, it's an ankle-bitter. Three, I hate ankle-bitters; medium to large dogs are a man's best friend.

The old lady halfheartedly scowls, "Muffins, let the young copper go. They will find Catherine for us. Dear dear, Catherine." I hand her the squealing dog after its leg hits me in the face once.

Jack and I wave the woman and her growling dog goodbye before retreating out of the apartment. The dog problem almost made me forget about my true intentions of joining Jack. The tape recorder in my pocket suddenly weighs more noticeably. I shift my gaze to the pavement as we walk back to where Jack parked the car.

The rookie probably senses my anxiousness which doesn't mix well with silence. He begins to ramble about the old woman. From past interactions with him, this is out of character for the quiet calm man. "Hmm... weird lady huh? She should have that dog on a leash whenever people come over. No wonder that live-in housekeeper disappeared. She probably ran off to escape the dog-"

"Jack."

"Yes?" The two of us pause in an alleyway that connects to the open parking lot at the end. My hand shoved into my pocket; my fingers dance over the buttons of the tape recorder. I'm ready.

"You're Ethan Jackson," I answer, hitting the record button. I want to be straightforward with him. Talking around the elephant in the room won't earn hard evidence for the court.

The mention of the name causes him to freeze and his mouth forms a thin line. I examine his behavior, keeping on my toes at any sign of malice. I know he has a gun on a him; I have nothing to arm myself because I couldn't wear my shoulder holster with the sling and coat. I will have to act quickly of the guy pulls a fast-one on me.

His jaw tightens; no lying to me now, Jack. Eyes not breaking from mine, he slowly responds, "...Sir, may I ask? Why do you think I'm, 'Ethan Jackson?'"

"A photograph. I'm surprised you wouldn't think I wouldn't notice your photo," I bluff. I saw a picture of Nathan not Ethan and I have no idea if the twins were identical or fraternal.

Jack smirks, "A photo is all you have? Now, sir... You know just that isn't going to make it in court as hard evidence." I know that's why I'm recording, you smartass. The rookie takes one step forward but I stand my ground. I had to show I'm not backing down from my claim.

Jack shoves his hands in his coat pockets with a sigh. He shakes his head, "Detective. Detective. Man, I thought no one would find me. It proves how most of you are incompetent. How can justice be served when all of you choose the wrong guy to enforce the law while the real criminals run away scot-free?"

"You know you are working for the same law enforcement that you are ridiculing?

"That's not very polite. A question shouldn't be answered with a question."

I wonder what he meant by his whole "justice be served" spiel; is he trying to persuade me that he's not the Hangman? I have no clue but so far I know he's acting completely different then his "Jack" persona. Before me has to be Jackson, why else would he switch to a cocky little kid who thinks he won't get away with it?

"So you aren't denying that you are Ethan?"

"I am who I am. I am who you think. I am who I was," Jack says nonchalantly. God, I am not good with riddles without a twenty-four hour period of pondering.

I want to take his vague confession as a yes but what now? I have the damn Hangman right in front of me. If he shows any sign of resist then I'll prove that a man with one arm can still take down a kid like him.

Jack narrows his eyes, "What now, detective?" He begins to walk to my side, triggering me to do the same, and currently we circle each other waiting for the other to pull something. He continues, "An injured man like you can't do much, right?"

The killer pushes forward, pulling, what seems to be, a taser. I jump to side in time with my adrenaline kicking full speed. Fortunately, the taser isn't police-issued or I would have been on the ground by now. I shiver, remembering the feeling of being electrocuted during my police academy years.

Jack lunges at me, more premises this time. I grab hold onto the hand holding the stun weapon. His other arm slugs me in the jaw. I stumble back but I still have a tight grip on his wrist. He goes for my injured side causing me to let go in pain. The painkillers halt pain from breathing, not direct rough contact with the area.

I grunt, feeling irritated about my injuries hindering my performance. Jack takes another shot with the taser. I swoop in from under, striking his arm sharply. The hit causes the rookie to drop the taser and I finish the movement with my good arm wrapping around his neck.

"What the-" Jack's taken by surprise when I turn around roughly with his arm still around his neck. Now, he's behind me- and no later I throw him over my hip. Jack falls with a thud on the ground and a groan.

I pant, trying to not feel my aching side. I glance over to Jack who has the wind knocked out of him. I approach him and kneel over him to fish out the cuffs on his person. "Alright, Jack- or should I say, Ethan, you have-" I'm interrupted by a sudden shock through my injured left side.

I gasp out in pain and a hand pushes me down to the ground. I forgot where he dropped the damn taser; the lucky bastard had it in reach while I was oblivious. The hand shoves my head onto the ground. The pavement scratches the side of my face.

Jack growls, "I guess appearances shouldn't be underestimated. I'm glad to see you are finally complying with me." Boy, you are lucky I can't move right now after that electrocution.

The Hangman grabs hold of my good arm and drags my paralyzed form to one of the doors that leads into one of the buildings surrounding us. He cuffs my hand then locks it with the door handle. My arm hangs from the door above my head. Jack steps back, admiring what he's done.

"Now then... if you know then that means your partner knows. I better finish the job."

I muster whatever strength I have to yell, "Why are you doing this?!"

Jack only returns cold eyes, gazing at me for a few minutes as if he froze in time. He then sighs, "You know, I'm not doing this because I don't think I'll get away with it. I can't kill you because it will ruin my plan. This is my solid proof. Once the deed is finished, everyone will know the unnecessity of the Upside City Police Department... I'll serve justice with my own hand."

The Hangman turns his back from me and heads to the parking lot. His form leaves my view from the row of cars.

I already have an idea where he's driving to and I hope Riley's there to protect Samuel.

I struggle with the cuffs restraining my arm for a few minutes. I can feel my strength returning to me. I let out a grunt in frustration; if I just had my other hand this wouldn't be difficult to get out of.

My cellphone rings in my back pocket. I'm surprised it didn't get smashed from that scuffle minutes ago. I push my weak self into a seated position, causing me to sit on the phone. I use my restrained arm to pull myself up with the help of my wobbly legs.

I lean on the door to support myself but before I can come up with a plan to retrieve my phone, it stops ringing. My forehead gently hits the door as I let out a sigh. Not a second later, it comes back to life, ringing its usual default tone. I turn around so my back is against the door and my hand closer to my pockets.

"Hold on..." I mutter as I slip my phone out. I look down at who's calling and discover it to be Riley. With a sigh of relief, I answer it. I better warn him about Jack who's on his way. From the looks of it, the rookie knows where Samuel is already; it wouldn't be hard if he's contacted Samuel enough to know where his usual hangouts are.

I press the speaker button because I'm not going to sit down again just to answer the phone.

"Riley-" "Hal-" We both interrupt each other at the same time. My partner takes the lead, "I know where- well, 'who' to be more clear- Ethan is."

"Great, because he's coming you way-"

"What do you mean he's- goddamnit! Hal, I'm already driving to where you guys are supposed to be. Fuck! You telling me he's heading to Samuel now?!"

Shit...I'll just get him to take me with him then. No sense in sitting around while my partner is here. "How close are you to the old lady's place?"

"Like a minute- damnit Hal, are you okay? You fucking knew this shit before me and didn't bother to tell me? Are you nuts?!"

"I didn't want you-"

"No damn excuses. Where are you?"

I sigh heavily before giving up my whereabouts. We got to hurry because every minute we stall, the closer the Hangman has a noose around Samuel's neck.

Jack's words still echo in my mind.

"I'll serve justice with my own hand."

......[(( _ _ ))..zzzZZ(( _ _ ))..zzzZZ]......
A/N: Sorry for the delay. I was trying to make sure this scene didn't end up half assed because my focus has been diverted by books I'm reading, games, and a sports tournament yesterday.
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