After the redhead left, Tillman grabbed a chair for him to sit on, beside Levi’s bed in the Ergency room. He watched the Irishman who was carefully taking a sip of water, grimacing when it made contact with his busted lip.
"You did it on purpose didn’t you?" he said, looking at the Consultant sternly.
Levi turned to look at him, placing the paper cup back on the bedside table.
The blond man cracked a grin, "Of course." he admitted, too proud for Tillman’s opinion. Nevertheless, it worked and he was silently grateful their case hasn’t ended yet.
"You’re insane," Tillman comnted, wondering if the blond consultant had a death wish. Several things could have gone wrong in his plan, like the possible involvent of other vehicles in the street. Also, the fact that his alcohol blood level was .25%. He shouldn’t have been able to walk on his own, more so drive a vehicle. But then again the blond was Irish, and they loved to drink.
Levi cocked him a brow, "I stopped him from getting away, didn’t I?"
"And you’ll be charged with DUI. You’ll be sent to prison." Tillman replied,
"I’ll be charged with DUI yes, but I’ll be able to post bail," Levi states, confident. He was right.
"You had a fistfight with him in the middle of the street," Tillman says, finding the notion misguided. Watts was an ex-marine, trained in combat and his physique and form clearly surpassed the Irishman’s. Tillman knew the blond was aware of this, but still, he instigated a fight. Essentially, he enticed the man to beat him up.
"No, it was self-defense. He attacked first." Levi inford, grinning.
"Because you were cursing at him in Irish," Tillman argued.
"I was not cussing. Please, don’t treat like it’s my first felony." he said, surprising Tillman. What does he an it’s not his first felony? What shit had he done before? That ramming his car against another vehicle whilst intoxicated be considered as nothing serious.
Tillman sighed, leaning forward maybe he was still drunk. "Witnesses would say otherwise." he insisted, witness statents claid he was cursing in Irish. Angry, boisterous, slurring his words.
Levi waved his mobile at Tillmans’s face for effect, "Witness statents, pfft! This will prove innocent." he claid.
Tillman eyed the mobile in the blond’s hand, "What?" he asked.
"It’s an audio recording proving I was not cussing. I was rely asking if he was okay, apologizing for hitting his car very LOUDLY." Levi states, recalling. He deserved an Oscar for that little skit he did in the street. It wasn’t easy using such a harsh tone with altruistic words.
"You insulted his mother, anyone would be pissed enough to hit you," Tillman says.
Levi tapped on his mobile, playing the recording for the agent. He fast-forwarded to the last monts before the fight. ’Your mother is álainn!’ tha do mhàthair brèagha! Thog do mhàthair bhrèagha fear math!’ passed the speaker.
Tillman scowled at Levi he understood just enough to assu he was cursing his mother.
"Àlainn is beautiful in Gaelic. I called his mother beautiful repeatedly, told him he must’ve been raised by a beautiful mother for being so understanding that I hit his car. My tone may say otherwise but a translator can argue the fact that I was rely speaking in a loud manner because I was alard. I did just get into an accident." Levi states smiling.
Levi turns off the recording, placing it back on his bedside table. "And he was under the influence too. Weren’t you inford by the Chesapeake police officers? We were both tested with Breathanalyzers" he adds.
Tillman nodded, "I was."
"So he’ll also be taken into custody for that as well. DUI, attempting to flee the country would not look good in his court case. We’re all relying on Sam’s skills now and so wonderful stroke of luck." Levi says, scratching the skin under his neck brace.
"You’ll possibly be sent to prison still. You did hit a car."
"I’ll be extradited, serve my sentence for a few months in my country. I reckon I can even get a ’community service’ deal with my sister’s first husband. He’s heading the Secret Service by the way." Levi explained, grinning smugly.
"I’m curious, how did you even know he will be in that street that exact ti?" the agent asked, Levi, grinned at Tillman. "A magician can’t reveal all his tricks," he states. In truth, Levi had reached out to one of his contacts in Virginia, from the mont he had gotten Watt’s na, the man had been under his surveillance. Once a sleuth always a sleuth.
Levi had instructed his contact to get him all the information he needed and have the man monitored. And based on the file provided by the CIA he had ford a psychological profile of him being short-tempered. The very cause of why he was dishonorably discharged from the Marines from hitting one of his superior.
After leaving the two n in the ergency room, Sam made her way towards the hospital exit. She bumps into Sutton in the hallway, gestures for him to follow her, her phone pressed against her right ear.
"I need you to take to the Lab," she tells the tall man. Sutton nods in understanding, walking beside the redhead. He watched her in the corner of his eye, "Steve, its Sam. I’m in Virginia, I need you to represent a friend. I’ll have soone call you for the arrangents" she says over the phone. "Who was that? My attorney," she answers ending the call.
Sam continues to fiddle with her mobile searching for another na.
Finding it she calls, long-distance. "Elle good morning, I need you to make arrangents for Steve to co here to Virginia, yes the very sa Atty. Steve Devereux. I’ll explain later, just please do as I say. Send a jet." she says, earning a raised brow from the tall gentleman beside her. Did she just casually say, ’send a jet’? and Steve? THE Steve Devereux, a highly acclaid defense attorney, and Law professor? Sutton ntally asked.
Sam notices the man’s expression as they make it towards his vehicle in the parking lot, "If there’s sothing you should know about , Agent Sutton. I don’t do this job for the money." she says, pulling the passenger seat door open after hearing the click.
"If not for money then why do you do this?" Sutton asked as they both got in the car.
"Self-absorbed notion of Justice, Agent Sutton. And I’m bored." Sam says.
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