Casey flashed her a tight smile, shaded by the dim of the room in the dawn hours.  "Nothing yet.  Just anxious."  He said, not willing to rouse her own anxiety with the truth just yet.  "I'll check in with the DMS, and if they haven't found them yet, we'll head out.  If they have, we can rest easy.  Go back to sleep, and I'll wake you in a while, okay?"  He gave her cheek another gentle press of lips-to cheek, his voice muzzy with early-morning grogginess.<br/><br/>He accepted the phone to hand gingerly, and swung his legs out over the side of the bed.  He was still in his briefs when he pushed himself to his feet, punching in the number to his contact with the DMS.  He pushed himself to his feet with a groan, as he wandered toward the bathroom as the phone rang once, twice, before a familiar voice came across the line.<br/><br/>"Calhoun,"  The voice on the other line grumped.<br/><br/>"Cal, it's Casey.  Calling about those Rachlings.  Our track just got severed.  You got the status on the hunt?"<br/><br/>There was a disgruntled noise on the other end of the line, as if the receiver had been dragged out of bed.  "One sec, Murphy."  There was a pause, and Casey could practically see the old dispatcher's glower.  "Looks like there's an anonymous tip come through with details on the fugitive."<br/><br/>"Last night?"  He asked.  There was a pause.<br/><br/>"Negative.  Twenty minutes ago.  Dispatch sent details straight to the hunt-team.  Apartment in Queens.  Look, Murphy, we'll handle this.  You and your lady need to keep your heads low, and wait 'til this blows over."  He paused,  "Hang on, I'm catching a call."  Casey's jaw flexed, and the silence on the other end of the line went silent.<br/><br/>Casey paced the length of the bathroom, as seconds turned to minutes.  He was just about to hang up and call back, when the Director's voice crackled to life again.  "Looks like they got 'em.  The ensuing firefight brought the whole damned apartment down.  We were able to evacuate the civvies.  We'll have a dragon's horde of paperwork, and there's still too much in the way of fire to get a casualty count on the bad guys, but our team was sure that there were at least two rachlings, and neither escaped."<br/><br/>His brow quirked down in a frown of consternation.  "Thanks, Cal.  I...  We were worried."<br/><br/>"You're welcome, Murphy.  And Murphy?"<br/><br/>"Yeah, Cal?"  He asked.<br/><br/>"I...  I'm getting a weird marker.  Code 9 quarantine on the ruins.  That seem weird to you?  Rach's are creepy, but I don't remember them being any sort of Root."<br/><br/>"Yeah, that's weird."  He said, pushing his way back into the bedroom.<br/><br/>"You want me to look into it?"<br/><br/>"No, thanks Cal.  Get back to sleep.  And I owe you."<br/><br/>"Yeah you do."  The dispatcher said, good-naturedly, though the line went dead abruptly as he hung up.