{A man arrives at the Double City Psychiatric Warding walking up to the entrance wearing a dark blue trench coat. Similar to Detective Pitts. His hair extremely gelled. Similar to Igor Hannick's. As he walks through the front entrance, it was impossible to make out the contents of his facial, frontal appearance as the lobby lacked a certain shine in the late morning.
He walks up to the help desk.}
UNIDENTIFIED MAN: Hi.
DESK RECEPTIONIST: Hello, how may I help you?
UNIDENTIFIED MAN: I am here for "Cyrus O'Brian".
{The man had a lighter voice with a certain accent.}
DESK RECEPTIONIST: Okay, in what compacity?
UNIDENTIFIED MAN: I am his lawyer.
{The desk receptionist continues to pitch through her documents to locate Cyrus's file.}
DESK RECEPTIONIST: ... I see. Oh, a Detective came in to see him this morning. He's in room 207B. I can have someone escort you there. And what is your name? And I'll just need to see some identification and paperwork stating you'll be representing Mr. O'Brian beforehand.
UNIDENTIFIED MAN: "Apostle Sanchez".
{Apostle pulls a file folder from the left inside of his coat and places it on the reception desk. He does the same with the right compartment of the inside of his coat; pulling a blue fabric wallet and places it on the desk before opening it to retrieve his ID Card. He removes it from its pouch in the wallet and hands it to the receptionist.}
RECEPTIONIST: Thank You.
{The receptionist writes down the information and hands the ID back to Sanchez. She looks through the file folder Apostle placed on her desk, writes down what she needs, and hands the folder back.}
RECEPTIONIST: Thank you. I'll have someone walk you up there. Just wait here while I get someone.
APOSTLE SANCHEZ: Thanks.
{The receptionist leaves the desk. Then returns just 2 minutes later with someone to escort Sanchez.}
ESCORT: Apostle?
APOSTLE SANCHEZ: Yes. Please, call me "Paulo". What's the status of my clients release?
[Meanwhile in Cyrus's Room.]
DETECTIVE PITTS: What do you mean? He's your partner. You mean to tell me you don't know where he is? This wasn't a part of your plan?
CYRUS: Well if we are looking for the same person, then "no". I don't know where he is. And once again, he's not "my partner".
{Detective Pitts may have actually started to believe that Cyrus and himself were looking for the same person, but the red thumb for mystery was sore and he could not aid it.}
DETECTIVE PITTS: ... And you're not lying to me?
CYRUS: ... No, I am not.
DETECTIVE PITTS: (This just doesn't make sense.) Why are you looking for this man?
CYRUS: ... He owes me money.
DETECTIVE PITTS: For?
CYRUS: I played a game of crabs with him in that alley some time ago.
DETECTIVE PITTS: How long ago?
CYRUS: ... I would not be able to recall even if I tried since I have been hopped up on fucking drugs since I have been in here.
DETECTIVE PITTS: Language. Roughly would you say?
CYRUS: I. Do not... know.
DETECTIVE PITTS: So you killed the woman and child out of spite? Revenge for not paying the money he owed you?
{Cyrus once again wanted to shrub his face up like an old mushroom, but he needed more information.}
CYRUS: I have never seen that woman in my life? I figure you have asked around. Ask yourself if I could pull something like this off. I would have had to lure the child and the woman into the alley in the first place.
DETECTIVE PITTS: ... You're right...
[Scenes of Pitts conducting his investigation around town...]
I've asked neighbors, people around this side of Double-City, bartenders & bar owners, I've been to grocery stores. So it had to be someone they knew, because no one I asked knows you. They live in a busy neighborhood. It would be tough to round up a child and mother without someone noticing unless you were close enough to be able to do so.
{Cyrus shrugs "duhh", and had another thought about the density of a 1960s Detective.}
CYRUS: ... So you're saying...
DETECTIVE PITTS: He-...
{Just as Pitts was going to utter his next words, the door to the room opened past the far right side of Cyrus's right shoulder. There stood a male about 5'7" wearing a blue trenchcoat with a huge mustache and the rest clean shaved. Also wearing too much gel in his lustful hairdo.}
THE MAN: Hello, My name is "Paulo Sanchez", and I will be representing Mr. O'Brian. There will be no more questions at this time.
DETECTIVE PITTS: We weren't done here. I've been waiting and I have permission from--
PAULO SANCHEZ: Unless my client is under arrest by Double-City authority, then we are done here.
{Paulo never blinked or budged. Cyrus had no clue who this man was, but he figured this could be his best chance of escaping this asylum.
Detective Pitts took another look at Cyrus before walking off. He then stood nearly face to face with Paulo. Who still didn't blink a whiff. He had an unparalleled poise. Pitts walked past Paulo and vocalized his final thought before exiting.}
DETECTIVE PITTS: I'll be back. I want some answers when I return.
{Then Pitts exits.
Paulo then looks eye to eye with Cyrus.}
PAULO SANCHEZ: They are preparing your release paperwork.
CYRUS: God, thank you. I have no fucking clue who you are, but it gets me out of here.
{Paulo looks on without a blink then he approaches Cyrus.}
PAULO SANCHEZ: You will be with me. The Detective has no more questions, but I do.
CYRUS: Okay, okay... Who the fuck are you?
PAULO SANCHEZ: My name is Apostle Sanchez. Call me Paulo. For now, you need to know that I am the one saving your ass. For now.
{So the two of them wait in silence.}
[Outside of the Double-City Psychiatric Warding.]
{Detective Pitts makes it to his car and gets in. He sat for 2 to 3 seconds recalculating what had just occurred. He starts pounding his steering wheel pouting to himself.}
DETECTIVE PITTS: DAMN IT, DAMN IT, DAMN IT!!!
{He then leans his head against his steering wheel for 4 to 5 seconds before lifting his head, sniffling, and starting his engine.
Ten minutes later, Cyrus was released into the provisionary custody of Paulo Sanchez. Before leaving the ward, Paulo had one more request from the facility. So they stopped at the receptionist desk on the way out.}
PAULO: Hi. Please, may I have all copies of all the medications prescribed to Mr. Cyrus O'Brian, please.
RECEPTIONIST: Yes, I'll get those for you.
{Cyrus stood behind observing every motion of this "Paulo Sanchez". He had a calming functuay that could lead a hurd of bulls. He seemed very experienced in his profession.}
RECEPTIONIST: Here you are, sir.
PAULO SANCHEZ: Thank you.
[Moments later outside of the Double-City Psychiatric Warding.]
CYRUS: Okay-- STOP! Fucking STOP for 2 fucking seconds. What the fuck is going on here!? Explain the shit to me! I've been in a fucking psych ward, I've been... bouncing around NOT knowing where and when I am-- just fucking lost. Tried for MULTIPLE murder charges in where I have no fucking relevance to! What the fuck is going on here!?
PAULO SANCHEZ: ... You're in 1967.
CYRUS: Yes I... fucking realize that. Who--
PAULO SANCHEZ: I... am Paulo Sanchez. I am The Appointee of Igor Hannick, and you? You are here to help me find him.
{Cyrus then feels a slight sense of terror taking steps backwards.}
CYRUS: Wha'... what the fuck.
PAULO: Calm down. I need your help. I'm not going to hurt you. I am looking for Igor, and you are the only one who can help me find him. Get in the car. We'll talk on the way.
CYRUS: So you like... you're like his "help"?
PAULO: Cyrus...
{Paulo walks closer to his car, stops, and turns back to Cyrus.}
PAULO: Get in.
CYRUS: ... How do I know you do not actually need my help and you aren't just taking me to that psychopath to finish the job?
{A deep sigh of annoyance blows from Paulo.}
PAULO: We both know what Igor is capable of. If he were around, you think I'd be here picking you up? You'd probably be dead right now. Now get in.
{Agreeable, as Cyrus sways his body as such. The both get in the car and drive off.}
CYRUS: Where are we going?
PAULO: We're going to the alley.
CYRUS: "The alley"?
PAULO: Yes--
CYRUS: The one the Detective was questioning me about. Oh my god, that poor family. He--
PAULO: That family... was not murdered by Igor. Don't even think it.
CYRUS: Well why would the police believe he did it? "We" did it?
PAULO: Because, it was all set up. Just like you got set up. That family... was Igor's family.