James fought to keep one foot in front of the other, groaning loudly. The wind blasted at him from all directions, making it difficult to walk, even move. The snow was as much as furious as the wind, blinding James for a few seconds. He groaned again, wrestling to slowly make his way to the cabin. Suddenly he collapsed on the snow, unable to make it any farther, as the snow whirled around him.
FBI agent Phil Davis walked briskly down the hall, annoyed by the questions from the reporters, mostly from the FOX reporters. Phil had just finished cracking a big case, which had stumped the FBI for years, causing most of the media to leech on him. A reporter, a young woman about 23 years old, jogged to keep up with him. From FOX. “Sir, how did you come to realize that it was the plumber who was the murder?” Phil continued to walk, looking every few moments at the reporter. “Nancy, right?” he asked. The reporter nodded, a bit out of breath. “That’s right, sir.” Phil suddenly stopped and turned. He grinned. “Well, you know, I’m not exactly an expert on this type of stuff. Why don’t you go to Agent Peterson? She knows most of the stuff around here.” Nancy, the reporter, brightened considerably. “Where would she be?” She asked eagerly as Phil continued down the hall. Phil turned toward her. “In the cafeteria,” he replied, then whipped back around and walked down the hall, not waiting for an answer. Suddenly at his side appeared Agent Calsi. “Sir,” he said, “We’ve got something.” Phil glanced at Matt for only a fraction of a second, then started walking again. “Calsi, you know the last time you told me that it turned out to be a case of a stolen balloon.” Phil glared at Matt. “Stolen by a clown.” Matt Calsi nodded. “But, Sir, this is actually a case,” he protested. “Kurt Williams thinks so, at least.” Phil stopped his fast pacing, and stared at Matt. Kurt Williams was the President of the FBI. If he said it was important, then it was. Matt grinned. “Of course that would get you awake,” he joked.