"𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒, 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋"
❝ Delphinium Tesla is anything but the innocent citizen she pretends to be, especially not with the power of telekinesis behind her fingertips. Laying low wi...
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The consuming roar of the jet was the only thing reminding Kane he was still alive. Its constant sound made it impossible for him to hear his own thoughts.
He shifted in his seat, leaning ever so slightly from Jaxon, who sat beside him. Why Jaxon had chosen to keep company with someone as unremarkable as Kane, he had no idea. Maybe he should have been grateful for it. But Jaxon didn't seem like the type to do things without purpose.
Heisenberg stood in the front of the aisle to finally alert the team of their destination. Jaxon's head snapped up as her voice raised over the commotion. Kane's eyes remained on the floor.
"After the events-or lack of them-on your last mission, we were fully prepared for another attack on the IMC headquarters," she spoke. "But the next strike was not against us. Late last night, senator Heidi Van Goulding was found killed within her home."
Ever so slightly, Kane's shoulders slumped. So much death. He thought he'd escaped the finality of it when he joined the team for a second chance, but it seemed he'd only joined a higher level of organized murder.
"But that is not all," she went on. "The victim was presumed dead a day before they found her body. Azarius Bryson could not have travelled that far in such little time. This murder was committed by another.
"Your next assignment is to investigate the crime scene. Not only are these murders connected, they also seem to have strings attached to you. If the suspect is indeed drawing you out as we hypothesized, you will brush with them again."
She fixed them with one last stare. "We land in fifteen minutes in Touzieu. We must have answers."
The name hit Kane too late. Touzieu. The home that was never a home.
God, he hated being sober.
▬ι═══════ﺤ
The senator's residence was on the cliffs outside the city, nowhere near the rough place Kane grew up. No gunshots to be heard, no dilapidated slums hiding starving orphans, no rotting bodies on the sidewalk. When he stepped foot onto its soil, Kane expected to feel a surge of hatred for the place that took so much from him. But he felt nothing.
A gaping, empty nothing that begged to be filled with white powder.
Van Goulding lived in a somewhat reclusive mansion overlooking the ocean. Corps vehicles clustered the road near the entrance, so they were forced to walk halfway to the top.
Once they passed by the rectangular hedges blocking the house from view, Kane saw how the geometrically-built place was swamped with frowning Corps officers holding back reporters trying to get the best story of Van Goulding's shocking murder. Already weary, Kane imagined getting behind the yellow caution tape would be difficult given how tight security was. But Hunt had clearly alerted the detectives of his team's arrival, because the group was only obligated to answer a few confirmation questions before being let through.
