Knocking

Harris kept waiting at the door but there was no answer. He knocked again, impatiently. He had to find that girl, for his boss. To his relief, after several minutes, the lock of the door clicked. The door opened and a yawning young male stood before him dressed only in his boxers. His excitement vanished.

He was looking for a girl, but a man opened the door. Still, he was not completely disappointed. Maybe she was somewhere inside the house. All he had to do was ask about her. He was staring at the man and the man who opened the door stared at him from head to toe.

"Hello..." started Harris but the man shut the door in his face.

"Oh, man! Early morning. Don't you see the time? We don't want anything. Go sell your shit someplace else," shouted the man.

It was time to exert authority. "FBI! Open the door," Harris again knocked at the door and shouted.

Instantly, the door flung open. "Did you say, FBI?" the man rubbed his eyes with disbelief.

"Yes," said Harris and he flashed his badge.

"Sorry, what is this about?" asked the young man. Now Harris had his full attention. He could hear the sounds of snoring coming from inside the house.

"Is there a young woman living with you?" asked Harris.

As soon as the young man heard the question, he started laughing loudly. Harris gave him a stern look which made the young man choke from his laughter. "Sorry, sir. We are four bachelors who share this apartment. It's been weeks since we saw any young woman, if you can find one for us too, we will be in your debt."

"Very funny," rebuked Harris. "We are looking for a person of interest. All we know is that she is a girl, and she gave this address."

"This address? My address?" asked the young man.

"Yes," replied Harris.

"Trust me, sir, no girl we know would even remember us, let alone our address," replied the young man.

Harris was disappointed by his answer. Nevertheless, he took out his visiting card and handed it over to the man. "If you remember about any girl, give me a call. Remember she was drunk or maybe not."

"Will do, sir," the man was confused after Harris's statement. The FBI was looking for a girl and they had no idea what she looked like or if she was drunk.

On the other hand, Noelle went to Hotel Grandeur early morning and flashed her badge at the reception. The whole hotel was on high alert. The hotel was known as the Hotel of the Don and no law enforcement agency could get in. But the FBI now had a way around it. They were not here for Don or his room. They were there for Adam.

"Agent Noelle Taylor, FBI," she said to the receptionist.

"How may I help you, Agent?" asked the receptionist with smugness. She knew no cops could ever gain access to the hotel, no judge would ever issue a search warrant. She was so wrong.

"Here is a warrant to gain access to the CCTV of the fifth floor and search room no. 503," informed Noelle with equal vigour. The talk about the fifth floor changed the smug face of the receptionist to a worried face.

"Um… I… o…" the receptionist lost her voice.

"I… o… what?" mocked Noelle.

"I will get the manager for you, ma'am."

"Great!" smirked Noelle.

The receptionist ran away and vanished into a room. After several minutes of waiting, a sharply dressed, sophisticated man with square glasses over his head came running with the receptionist.

"My name is Alexander. I am the manager. How may I help you?" he introduced himself, politely.

"As I informed her. I have a warrant. Here," Noelle showed him the warrant. Alexander started sweating. Never in his life had any law enforcement agency ever stepped into his hotel. He had no idea how to behave or talk to them. He lowered his glasses and looked at the warrant. Every word was like a noose around his neck.

"Wait here, ma'am," he said and started walking away from her. But she immediately grabbed his collar and pulled him towards herself.

"Look here, Alex. I am usually a very patient person. I can wait for ages but today I am just not in the mood. Give me everything I want, or I will arrest every single of your staff for obstruction of justice," she threatened.

"Yes… Ma'am," replied Alexander, frightened.

"Good!" she left his collar and patted his cheeks, mockingly.

First, he took her to the security room. She looked for the last night's footage and collected the CCTV footage from the moment the girl and Adam came out of the lift. Their faces were so into each other that it was difficult to make the girl's face. She fast-forwarded to the moment the girl came out of the room, but again her face was strategically hidden by her hair.

Nowhere in the footage, her face was visible. It was only her partial face that was visible at times. Still, she asked Alexander to give her a copy and he obliged.

After she was done with the security room, she and the forensic team moved towards the fifth floor. She signalled an agent to knock at the door and he knocked at the door of room no. 503. He kept knocking and knocking but there was no answer. A few times there were just groans.

After knocking for about 15 minutes, a drowsy man who was trying hard to stand opened the door. His legs were like jelly. It was clear that he would fall at any given moment. He was still under the influence of the pill, Journee gave him.

Before Noelle could ask him, his legs gave up and fell backwards on the carpet with a thud.

"Great!" exclaimed Noelle. She entered the room after wearing surgical gloves and knelt near Adam's head. "Mr Adam? Mr Adam?" She patted his cheeks to wake him up.

"Wh… what?" Adam stammered.

"Is your name Adam Gamble?" she asked again.

"What?" he kept repeating the same word over and over in his inebriated condition.

"This is useless," she groaned. She then ordered her subordinates, "check his ID."

A few agents entered in. One of them first looked inside his pocket but it was empty. They all then started looking around for his wallet all over the room. It was on the bed. They took out his driver's license and confirmed his ID.

Without speaking another word, she signalled them to pick him up and follow her. They grabbed all his belongings and took him out of the room.

"Hey! What are you doing?" groaned Adam.

But no one was listening to him. The moment he came out, a team of forensic people entered the room. They started taking pictures and dusting the whole room for fingerprints. Noelle was praying for even a partial print of that woman whom Archer encountered last night.

The way he described her, it was clear that he was impressed by her. Well, it was not an easy task to pick his pocket, but she did that. She made a fool out of him. She had to find her. She had to know why she was surveilling Zion. Was she a private citizen or working for some other law enforcement agency? If she was working for Zion's enemy, that could put Archer in danger too.

While the forensics team was working the scene, Noelle picked Adam and moved towards the federal plaza. Two agents wrapped his arms around themselves and carried him to their car. The whole way he kept sleeping. Even after reaching the federal plaza, he was drowsy and drunk.

"What did he drink yesterday?" commented Noelle.

The agents carried him all the way up and laid him on a slab in an interrogation room. Noelle was getting impatient.

"Let's have a breath analyzer test. See how much alcohol he has in his system. He was drunk last night, then why is he so inebriated till now?" Noelle was confused and shocked.

The agents set up a breath analyzer test. After asking him for about 10 minutes, he finally, somehow inhaled and exhaled. But to their shock, only one band flashed green. He was not that drunk then what was his problem? Why was he not conscious yet?

"We need to do a blood test," noted Noelle.

"But ma'am, without his consent we cannot draw his blood," replied one of the agents.

"Then get his consent. In the meantime, I will see if any judge will permit us to get his blood," said Noelle.

The other agents just nodded and went back into the interrogation room to get Adam's consent. Noelle was on her way to her seat to search for a judge who would grant her a warrant to draw the blood when Chris crossed her path.

"Noelle! You look distressed. Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Good morning, sir," she saluted him. "We picked up Adam Gamble from the hotel, but he is too drunk. I mean he is not drunk yet he is drunk. There is nothing in the footage to identify the girl and our witness is of no use," she said, frustrated.

"What do you mean 'drunk but not drunk'?" asked Chris.

"We did a breath analyzer; his alcohol level is minimum. Also, he drank last night. I understand handover but he is acting like he is still drunk," replied Noelle.

"It means only one thing," suggested Chris.

"What?"

"He was drugged. You need a blood test as soon as possible before the drug leaves his system," said Chris.