They finally arrived in Philadelphia as the sun was beginning to set. They pulled off the highway and continued north toward Center City, the city’s core.
As the largest city in the state of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia was well-known for being the land where the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution were signed. At one time, it was also America’s capital city. Jimin had heard that the city had been in rough shape for a time due to a rise in unemployment from the declining shipbuilding and steel industries. For that reason, he held an image of Philadelphia being a rundown place. However, as he gazed at the cityscape with its mix of historical buildings and modern architecture, he didn’t have such a bad impression.
Jimin asked Rob about how safe the city was, to which Rob replied that it depended on the location.
“That can be said for any city, though,” he added. He was right. Whether it was New York or L.A., what applied to the urban centre didn’t necessarily apply to the suburbs.
Doug Mayer’s house was on the ground floor of a three-storey apartment building. Light was seeping out from the window, indicating that someone was home.
When they rang the doorbell, Mayer appeared unsuspecting as he answered the door. He was a large man with stubble growing on his chin. His wavy blond hair was tied back messily in a ponytail. He wore a short sleeve T-shirt emblazoned with a flashy logo, and his thick upper arm sported a skull tattoo. At first glance, he looked more like a member of a biker gang than a journalist.
Mayer’s face changed instantly the moment he found out that they were from the FBI.
“I had another agent visit me the other day,” he said. “You guys treating me like a criminal now just because I did a stint at MSC?”
“No, we just want to hear your story about something. May we come in?”
Mayer reluctantly let Jimin and Rob into his apartment. Jimin felt a faint sense that something was off as he watched Mayer dragging his right leg as he walked.
“I just got a pizza delivered, alright? Don’t mind me if I eat it while it’s hot.”
Mayer took a large bite of his extra-large pepperoni pizza, paying no heed to Rob and Jimin as they sat down across from him. Jimin made eye contact with Rob and inwardly gave a wry smile.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you during dinner,” Jimin apologized and offered a polite smile.
“You should be,” replied Mayer. “Why do you FBI guys always come out of the blue? No consideration for my schedule, huh? Would it kill you to ask me in advance?”
“We actually have a harder time catching people the more we tell them we’re coming in advance, for some reason,” Jimin said sarcastically.
“I’d bet,” Mayer said with a grin. “If I knew you guys were coming today, I’d have made myself scarce. You guys want to know about Nathan Clark, right? I’m sorry, but there’s not much I can tell you about him. We were in MSC together four years ago. I only remember him as a quiet weirdo. Well, any American who signs up for a camp like that is usually either a crazed military fanatic or a radical rightist, so,” Mayer said nonchalantly as he licked the cheese off of his fingers. Jimin jumped into his question immediately.
“So, Mr. Mayer. Why did you sign up to go to MSC? You’re a journalist by profession, right? Was it for work?”
“You could say that. Just saying, though, I’m a journalist but I don’t write the articles. I’m a researcher. I used to work with an anchorman called Randy Odds.”
It was the job of researchers to investigate the scene and collect data, while it was the anchorman’s job to take that material and make a piece out of it. Researchers seldom got any publicity for their work.
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Deadlock || ᴠᴍɪɴ
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] Jimin Lennix, a former DEA investigator was arrested by a false accusation of killing his own partner. The FBI agents gave him a special deal, to look for a particular criminal hiding in the same prison. By the time he was detained in th...
