𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗔𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ☏︎

𝟑𝟓 | 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

DAMIEN

I don't know what to do. I don't know if contacting the police will do more harm than good. I've been sitting in this car for a while, contemplating what to do.

I have no clue where she could be. I don't even know if she's still alive. The thought makes my stomach churn.

For the first time, I have no control over this situation.

I can't bear to lose someone important to me again. And I'm going to lose her on bad terms, just like I did with Danté.

I need to do something.

So I go back to my place, go into my office and gather everything I've found out about my brother.

The footage, the photos and documents. I scan over his death certificate and notice something. It's fake.

How can it be fake? Why do I have a fake death certificate? I take a look at the photos. The ambulance also doesn't look right. It doesn't have a hospital name on it. The paramedics are wearing costumed uniforms.

This doesn't make sense. They rushed him to the NYC Hospital, where he died of blood loss. The certificate doesn't say that. It says he died from head trauma. The hospital uniform doesn't match the paramedics either.

How did I miss all this? It was orchestrated. I already know they planned to hit him, but the ambulance was fake too? Why would they do this?

I look at the photos of the car. Inside, the driver seems to have brown hair. But it's blurred.

The man who looked like Danté at the gas station, he entered a black mercedes. From my memory, the two cars match up. Expect the drivers aren't the same, because the brown-haired one was white, I think.

I still have the license plate. I need to locate the car. So I head over to an old friend who has access to the license plate database.

"Damien! I haven't seen you in a while." My old friend Tyler greets cheerily. He's always happy. Well, he won't be in a few minutes. "What do you need?"

The excitement on his face slowly fades as I tell him everything that happened. He steps to the side and lets me into his house.

"You need to locate a license plate, right?" He asks, leading me to his office room. "I can show you if I manage to find the USB drive for the database."

A few minutes later, and he returns with a USB drive, and heads over to his computer. He inserts it and opens the database. "What was the license plate again?"

•

Over the span of half an hour, one thing is established. The car has an address located in a shady part of the city, so if I plan on going there, I'll have to dress down and fit in.

So I do exactly that. The minute I get there, there's a party going on inside of the beat-up house. I waltz inside and not a single eye bats at me.

I'm loaded with guns and switchblades in such a way that it's not obvious to the onlookers. I squeeze past the sweaty crowd and a woman comes up to me.

"Hey, you." She says seductively. "What's an attractive man like you doing here?"

"Uh... An old friend invited me." I lie. She looks dissatisfied with my lack of flirting.

"How about we stop the small talk and find a room where it's more... private?" And by that, I already know what this is. She's good at acting, but it's fairly obvious she has an earpiece in, and somebody is probably telling her what to say.