license

814 32 105
                                    

LEO===============21/04/2003Phoenix, ArizonaRedhawk Base================

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

LEO
===============
21/04/2003
Phoenix, Arizona
Redhawk Base
================

"Somebody needs to get me to Alto now!" I yell, frantically pacing around North's office with my hair gripped between my fingers.

"Hendrix, for fucks sake! Calm down-"

"I can't fucking 'calm down'. Do you even know how much goddamn trouble she could be in?" I hiss, slamming my hands against his desk.

Miles is glaring at me from the corner of his eye as though I'm clinically insane.

He probably isn't even that far off the truth at this point.

"She's at her goddamn base, Hendrix! Nothings going to get solved by you throwing a fucking riot!" North seethes.

"And when was the last time being at base kept anybody safe? Jed Nolan waltzed around base and was against us the whole fucking time!"

"Hendrix, please. You're giving me a fucking headache," he pinches the bridge of his nose, signature vein bulging above his eyebrow.

"Give me the address of Silverwing and I'll leave with Marcus," I growl.

"You ain't going nowhere until I fucking say you are! Shields can look after her damn self!"

I know I'm defeated. At the end of the day, North always has the final call. My eyes twitch as I take a few deep breaths.

He's right, she can protect herself. But I want to protect her.

And I really fucking want to see her.

"When did this information come out?" Miles asks, much calmer than I am right now.

"It got passed over to us at about 1am,"

"How in the damn fuck did he get back into the States?" I hiss.

"Fake passport, most probably," North groans.

"So how exactly do we know it's him?" Miles tilts his head.

North doesn't reply, just turns his laptop to face us. It's a picture of a driving license, with none other than his face on it.

Only, he looks much younger.

———————————
NAME:
SHIELDS,
NICHOLAS HARVEY

DOB
07/01/1969
——————————

As Miles and I analyse the picture, it all starts to make sense to me.

That bastard is too damn smart. He couldn't have dropped this by mistake, just accidentally left it behind somewhere. He wouldn't slip up like this.

Code Red Where stories live. Discover now