Capturing Ella

Chapter 18 - Ella

July, 2015.

As you can see, the weather impact on South Carolina has been extraordinary especially on the – the man on the television droned on, and I squinted at it. I knew the story would be breaking headlines any time soon and definitely within the next hour. I carried on watching the news for another ten minutes, sitting in one of the investigation rooms within the FBI building in central Denver, Uriel sitting opposite the work bench on his laptop, with the odd noise where his search was declined.

Sorry, we would like to interrupt the report for some breaking news. Weird and illiterate markings have been tarnishing the side of public buildings in the down town New York area. Investigators have started their investigation into how the marks have got here and what they mean. We're directing you to our roaming reporter in the area, Marcus. Marcus, any idea what is happening? The screen cut from the busty brunette in the Fox new's office to a windswept middle age man holding a microphone. Can someone tell me how Fox got hold of this story before anyone else? The most sexist and racist news broadcaster probably ever got hold of this story that we've been working on for at least a week constantly. Uriel had also looked up from the other side of the work desk. Normally when a news broadcasting site grabs the story we watch to pick up some hints or something, like it was a different perspective. However, then Fox gets the story we more watch to rule out ideas. You'd get more ideas to talking to a bunch of kids in Kindergarten.

Yes, thank you ma'am. I'm standing in front of one of the messages that have been carved into the concrete over night. The police have checked CCTV cameras around the area but the person who carved it has not been caught. The same phrase has been carved into seven other plinth in this building and others throughout the down town area. Investigators have been working on the case trying to figure out what language the writing is in, but police suspect Gaelic –

'It's not Gaelic.' I simply said, turning off the TV before facing back towards the bench, reviewing the mess I had made. Uriel sat opposite me on the work bench, in similar mess to what I was in. After a middle school teacher found the carvings on the notice boards, she called the Principle, who then had several more reports. They called the police, who also had several more reports throughout the town. It was then reported to the FBI, and guess who was assigned the case?

Victor had called me two in the morning and asked me to drive into Denver to help with the case. Of course I protested slightly but I had nothing better to do, so half four in the morning in late June I arrived in Denver and was briefed on the marks and had to try and find the origin of the marks or even what language they were in.

Currently, it was Vick, Will, Uriel and I all on this case, and Yves was coming to Denver in a few hours to try and help us.

'It's not anything, really.' Uriel said sipping his coffee shaking his head. 'We've exhausted all options. Every dialect spoken for the last three hundred years and this match nothing. This,' he held up the picture of the engravings, 'is not a dialect.'

'It's a threat,' I mumbled.

'Speak up and go on,' He joked, smiling at me.

'If it was a language it would be warning us of something. If it's not a language, it's a threat. It's trying to focus us on this for a hidden threat for a reason. So it's not a warning – it's a threat.'

'Threat for what,'

'If we know that, we wouldn't be here.' Will said, coming into the room with yet more coffee. 'Clever, though. So we've exhausted all dialects.'

'All of those spoke in the last three centuries.' Uriel said, and Will nodded.

'Nothing anywhere else, just these six buildings in New York?' Will said, skimming through our notes.