Dungeon

CHAPTER 9 - THE WHITE HOUSE ULTIMATUM

Crimson lights blared throughout the entire building, but this time the intensity of the atmosphere was more drastic than the last. A call from the White House? Why would the president call directly? Even the look on Thoms's face resonated with his thoughts. Not in my 53 years of work experience have I ever met the president beforehand! What's going on?

Marcus led the way to the lower ground, where a large congregation was gathered around a huge screen. Arnold stood forth before the congregation, his face white as if he just saw a dead man come alive. Jessica stood beside him, clad in sweat and fear of what the man before them wanted to say in person. Arnold took notice of Bryan, motioned for him to stand beside him, and eyed Thoms to take his place. Dutifully, both of them did so, but Thoms clearly didn't like the sheer thought of favoritism but assured himself that this was not the time.

Resonating the voice of the confused congregation, Arnold spoke out in a tense yet firm tone. "Sir, what might be the issue?" He knew very well that the President always sends his personal assistant Marcus to discuss national issues, but this time he has come in person, which means that there is an issue that is seriously out of control.

"Greetings everyone! I know that this wasn't planned, but there is a national emergency!" The man had a clear, stern expression, yet his voice was weak, as if the news in itself had sucked the pure life out of him. Whispers and hushes spread throughout the crowd, which echoed throughout the silent building. Cutting them off, Arnold's voice boomed through the echo. "Sir? I believe the NSA is the one to solve such issues. This is just a police department, which is under the NSA. We haven't received any..."

Cutting him across, a video appeared on a second screen, which made everyone shift their gaze from the president towards the screen. "Arnold, why don't you check this video first and then advise me on whether I should seek the NSA or reach out to your department directly?" Arnold sensed from the president's voice that whatever this video was, it wasn't good.

The video opened up with a backdrop view of gorgeous scenery, which was definitely not Manhattan. Bryan immediately guessed the place. Ciudad Condal, more commonly known as Barcelona. Suddenly, a humming voice resonated around the department, one that seemed quite familiar to him. His temples started hurting again, but he tried rubbing off the feeling. Now's not the time! The video rolled onto show children playing in a park, adults walking happily, and birds chirping throughout the place.

"Mr. President! A beautiful place, isn't it? Wonder why you haven't got the idea of planning to build a park in Manhattan as beautiful as the Parc de la Ciutadella." The voice was deep and rough and sounded like a serious maniac. The voice heaved a huge, dramatic sigh and continued. "Aah, all these people! So happy as if the world is never going to end....how sad that they do not know that their end is near!" The voice let out a huge laugh that shook the entire crowd gathered in the department.

The distraught visions started flooding back, like how foam keeps appearing on the seaside. This voice...Why does this voice sound familiar? He shook his head, trying to concentrate on the video before him, but something rang around his mind like a sound alarm, reminding him of a danger that was about to come.

"Ooh! Guess what! They say we must always be prepared when coming on a beautiful trip like this, right? Hmm...where did I put my beautiful suitcase? Aah, here it is!" The screen shifted to a nearby platinum suitcase, which lay beside the man's feet on the grass. The screen zoomed in on the suitcase, which contained the logo of the 'vanguard medical division'. There were huge gasps around the congregation, and Arnold slumped back hard on a chair. Bryan rushed out in aid to help his mentor but was surprised to see that he was trembling for the first time.

As he helped the man rest on the chair, the distraught images plunged him back to where his dad threw a suitcase at the killer's feet. A stark reality hit him hard, like how a disastrous thunderbolt was capable of creating a crater on the earth's surface. This is the exact suitcase my dad gave away to that maniac! Which means....this guy is...the killer! Looking for confirmation, he gazed deeply towards Arnold for an answer, but the hazy, frightened gaze of the man was more than enough to confirm the answer.

Thoms felt like he was about to pass out due to a lack of oxygen. I thought that suitcase was sorted long ago! The Vanguard Medical Division is a secret medical society unknown to the public that is operated by the US government. The medical division experiments on various pathogens to create new medical aids that can help cure even the rarest of diseases. But a long time ago, they discarded a project they claimed to be hazardous. It was stored in a platinum suitcase and handed over to Adams, the best man on the job. Thoms shifted his gaze to Arnold, wishing to tear him up with a lot of questions, but the man was fragile enough to hold any more worries.

Everyone averted their gaze back to the screen, where the man opened up the suitcase and brought forth a vial of liquid that gleamed brightly under the Barcelonian sun. "HydraHepA, a long-discarded beauty that kills... Isn't she beautiful? A little drop when in contact with water can..." The man broke out in laughter, which shook the entire department. The man stood up, preparing himself to leave, before he turned towards the camera and spoke in an ominous tone. "In the realm of crime, the evidence is the gospel, and the laboratory is the sanctuary. For in the pursuit of truth, even gods bow to the supremacy of facts." With a last bit of laughter, the screen cut to black.

The room was silent, clearly tensed with the seriousness it now holds. Arnold seemed too weak to process further information. The president cut down the slack first, but this time his voice was serious. "Arnold, I entrusted you to solve the issue long ago, and I have no fricking idea how the issue escalated till here! Just a month ago, we promised good relations with Spain, and now their own existence is going to be deemed extinct because of us! The whole world is going to turn against us. I have no idea what you do, but solve this issue at the earliest!" With that, the screen went black. Marcus gave a faint smile to Arnold and made his way back.

Bryan felt nauseated, and every inch of his body clamored to fight the urge to get hold of the man on the screen. For the first time since the ruckus, he spoke out. "Arnold, what's HydraHepA?" The man wanted to respond, but his voice failed to find the right words. Suddenly, a voice broke out from the crowd, intending to answer the question. "Ooh, you don't know what that is, huh?! It is a fucking liquid that can kill you in a second when you come into contact with the water in which it has been infected! No reactions, no pain, no color. It is impossible to trace the liquid! All thanks to your good for nothing, dad!"

Every single vein inside him wanted to fight back, but before he could react, Arnold's voice boomed throughout the hallway. "That's enough! Anyone in his position would have done the same, and you know it too, Thoms!" He shifted his gaze towards the terrified crowd behind him and gave a small wave, which was their cue to return to their work. "Bryan, you and Jessica will leave for the next flight to Barcelona. I don't know how my boy, but solve this issue."

For the first time since they met, Bryan saw that there were tears welling up in the eyes of the man before him. He gave a curt nod and said, "I'll find that idiot as soon as possible, but I might not assure you that he will return alive." The look on Arnold's face made it clear that, dead or alive, he wanted the issue to be solved. "Jessica, take the chauffeur to drop you both off at the private runway, and Thoms, why don't you take a leave and look after Ethan?"

Thoms gave a look of disgust, stomped, and made his way towards the exit. Arnold stood up heavily, and with a look of expectation, he strode away to his office. Before he knew it, he was already in the private car, which was making its way to the terminal. His mind was boggled and clueless on where to search, but a soft touch eased his mind and brought about a sense of peace. Jessica placed her hand on top of his and gave an assuring smile. "It's going to be alright."

They made their way to the terminal, where a private jet was waiting for them. Before he knew it, he was on the board, flying to Barcelona. The pilot's voice boomed through the speaker. "Ladies and gentlemen, we will be reaching Barcelona in approximately 7 hours and 40 minutes. Best of luck on your next mission."

Bryan took a deep sigh and re-assured himself, unaware of the roller-coaster ride awaiting him in the land of the counts.