The Crime in Callahan's Morrow - being rewritten

Chapter 20: Interlude of explosion

XX.

"The best way to conceal corruption? Make some other insignificant problems explode into people's faces and you can conceal whatever you want in plain sight."

~Meredith Allesium, The High Commander of the Battle Witch Forces

"I can't put Crawshaw on if I don't know where he is!"

Xavier felt like he'd repeated that sentence a hundred times now, but the Astoria's Senior Official didn't seem to listen to it.

"The head of an office branch, even insignificant as yours, should always be on call," the man on the other side of the hologram said. Xavier gritted his teeth, so he didn't blurt out something that would put him in trouble with HQ. Like that he considered the man an idiot.

"Senior Lichten," said Xavier. "Our IT officer has been trying to get Head Officer Crawshaw on his phone, but the call is not going through." Ann had mentioned it seemed like the communication was down, and if that didn't make everyone anxious nothing would.

Senior Lichten huffed, his thin mustache fluttering with that movement, which reminded Xavier of a bird flying in the distance. It was not a pleasant view.

"Are you saying he is unaccounted for?" Lichten asked with a tone that promised retribution. As much as a whining tone can.

Something was not right, even Xavier could tell. And that something made him admit, "Yes, we don't know where he is."

The man scowled and hummed. "Then you won't be charged as an accomplice."

One could hear the pin drop after that. Xavier had to remember how to breathe. "What," he barely managed to spit out as his brain was struck by severe error. This seemed worse than he could even imagine.

***

Holding a half-eaten pizza cut between her teeth as she tried to corral her unruly hair into a bun, wasn't the smartest choice, Nicole noticed. A slab of ham lying smackdab on the lacquered flooring cemented that notion. Now she had to clean that up.

Tossing the cut back in the carton, she whirled toward a wall cabinet and grabbed her old, blue mug, the one she used to drink almost anything, even water. An urge to drink didn't abate even after finishing the just poured juice, but before she would rinse it to get some pure water, the mug just broke in her hand, the leftovers of juice splattering the tiles and pieces of ceramic clinking loudly as they fell.

"Motherfucker!"

Today really wasn't her day. But at least her hand was free of cuts.

A sigh escaped through her mouth and just then her peace was broken by a ringing melody of her phone.

Really?

She frowned once seeing Ann written on the screen. "Nicole speaking."

"There has been an attack on the Lord of Astoria's Introduction Ball," Ann said in a rushed, almost panicky voice. "An explosion almost leveled the main building and nešto its adjacent side buildings."

Okay. Not what she'd been expecting. "What does it have to do with us? It's Astoria's "

"Adrian was sighted at the Ball just before the explosion!"

"What the fuck?"

"Exactly," Ann agreed. "We have no idea how it happened or how he got there – his car is in the garage; Xavier just sent me an update since he went to check. The only thing we know is who he's been with."

Nicole was almost afraid to ask. "Who?"

"The report stated that Viola Giuseppe and his guest, Crawshaw Adrian, signed in at the Ball reception at eight-fifteen PM."

Nicole glanced at the old ticking clock. It was nine fifty. "Great," she mused out loud. "Did they have a romantic getaway or something?"

"It's bad, Nicole," Ann said. "Adrian and Giuseppe are main suspects for the explosion."

Nicole wanted to laugh at a tragicomical statement like that one. Adrian, a suspect for the bombing? "How the fuck has HQ come up with that one?" And it must be SIB HQ, they were the only ones who investigated the crimes in the capital.

"I don't know. They said these two both fled the scene." Ann's voice hit that high note telling Nicole that she was on a verge of panicking for real. "We're all suspended, except for you, for some reason, and we can't even investigate anything. And Tucker isn't answering the phone –"

"Breathe," Nicole told her before she could work herself into a full-blown attack.

She heard Ann breathing in and out loudly for a few seconds. "Right. I'm sorry. It's just –"

"I know," Nicole said, thinking about what this meant for their branch office. "You said I'm not suspended, and all of you are, right? Is that why you're calling from your personal number?"

"Yes," Ann whispered then cleared her throat. "I'm outside as well. Didn't want anyone to overhear in case the network is tapped. Took a pause for lunch for the first time in a year. Said I needed to clear my head. Oh, gods. Lena told me to take the evening off, but I can't," she rambled.

"I need you to calm down and call the others while you're out." Nicole hoped this what she was doing wouldn't be considered treason. They left her off the hook for a reason unknown to her, however, she had her suspicions. "Tell them to come to the office and bring any kind of tools, spells, or any magic that can make the place secure. You should sweep the office for bugs in and out of our computers. I'll find out what's going on with Tucker."

"Thank you," Ann said instead of a goodbye. Those two words held more gratefulness than Nicole deserved. Especially since she might get them all arrested.

Nicole glared at the broken mug, realizing it might've been an omen.

Then she went to arm herself. This wasn't the first time she'd heard about shady dealing of SIB HQ. Set-ups, cover-ups, you name it; many rumors reached her ears. She'd never really been affected by them, so she naively considered those as exaggerations. Well, that was before they implicated Adrian as a suspect for a crime. Adrian, for crying out loud!

If they wanted a war, they would get one. And Nicole would brandish her proverbial sword to lead her side to the battle. Yes, it was time to discard any doubts. She was doing this with no hesitation. It was time to outline a plan.

***

He wasn't aware vampires could sweat so much yet the cascading drops of liquid dripping into his eyes and stinging as fucking barbed wire told him otherwise.

"You ready to talk, Dusthoff?"

Face ironed into stoic expression some time ago, Tucker tilted his head to look at the agent interrogating him. Actually, torturing him, but who cared about semantics. These guys sure didn't. Two of them, clad in black, got him on the streets while he was walking from his office. Words like, "Just a few questions," didn't ring any warning bells since they had introduced themselves as agents of SIB. The realization they took him to an abandoned building sure as fuck had. But then had already been too late, he'd been already inside, and the third guy didn't wait for him to get his bearings and pounced on him.

Once chained to a bolted chair, Tucker couldn't fight them off. He could only endure. And endured he had. Their latest torture approach was a temperature attack. Up until ten minutes ago, his fingers had almost caught frostbite as the temperatures hit lows, he'd thought the snow would start any moment. But then the guy had changed tactics, tuned up the spell, and the tundra temperatures switched. A sudden onslaught of warmth made him sweat buckets.

"Sorry," he replied with a lazy tone. "I still have no idea what you're talking about."

Andhe honestly didn't. Adrian conspiring with Giuseppe to topple the newly crownedLord of the Astoria? What a load of pure horseshit. Heck, he would've found ithysterical if the situation wasn't looking as dire.