The Lord is my Shepherd

Trooper greets Katie at the door without so much as a low 'woof', sidling up to her and licking her hand.

Jason looks up quickly, standing by his desk with his hand on the paper he'd been writing on. The tension can be felt, and shows in his face.

Sorry you had to go through all that... I know it couldn't have been easy.

He swallows hard, the confusion lingering. "I...I worked with that message that popped up. And..." He hesitates.

I don't want false hope to arise... I don't want to assume... I don't want to believe something that isn't true...

"I figured out it was a word scramble and a riddle combined. And only someone who knew Scott and was from TJY would figure it out."

Jason pauses again, searching Katie's eyes. Finally he turns his paper around so she can see the words he had written. Ireland's Neighbor is alive.

"Someone purposely bashed our system to get our attention...so we'd see this message... "

It's not the Agency's style to fool us with puzzles as communication... it's not their style to not have caused more damage if they're the ones that hacked in. But I don't want to hope... I'm afraid to... But what if this is somehow true?


"He won't talk."

Two rough henchmen drag a limp and beaten victim into the room with the bright light. His head hangs. He doesn't try to look up.

The one sitting rolls his eyes. "Then you haven't tried everything yet, now have you?" He gets up from his chair, walking over to the victim who was slung between the other two men. He reaches out to tilt his chin up.

Scott squints out one eye to make out the angry face before him, but makes no move.

The ringleader sends a fist into Scott's gut. "People like you suffer." Another jab goes to the ribs. "People like you wish they were dead long before we let them die." A right hook catches his jaw. "People like you beg for mercy by the time we're done." The ringleader sneers. "Tell us what we need to know. Or these two are going to show you what torture means."

Scott's head remains hanging, a drop of blood falling to the floor. His voice is a forced whisper. "The Lord is my shepherd...I shall not want...He leads me..."

The ringleader scoffs and backs off. "Great. He's a fruitcake."

"He's been doing that the whole time." One of the goons rolls his eyes. "He's some sort of religious freak. We can't get him to shut up."

"Make him!" The ringleader's hieghtened tone indicates his lack of paitience. "I want that information by tonight!"