Hidden Enemies | The Prime Archives #2 ✓

eight

Chase didn't say a word for most of the ride back to the hotel. He tuned out the sounds of his friends talking about the assembly and lost himself in his self-created quietness.

Unfortunately for him, the inside of his head was anything but silent. A million different thoughts and scenarios swam through his psyche like minnows in a muddy stream. The PRA would change everything if signed.

Atlas would surely be absorbed by the United Nations. Director Shaw would be forced into early retirement. As for the Prime task force—which was full of impressionable, young adults—would be under the harsh scrutiny of the world governments.

Despite all of those factors, something else was worrying him.

Victor Shaw. Apex. The fugitive Prime—as the media liked to call him.

Atlas had abandoned their search for Director Shaw's missing son months ago. They had gotten close a few times, specifically in the sandy wasteland of New Mexico. But each time, he had slipped through their fingers. Chase remembered the time he headed the force tasked with bringing the man in.

He remembered nearly catching Apex. He had been inches away from him before he teleported away.

In truth, he never had a chance of catching him. He was quick. Smart. Elusive. After a while, Atlas deemed him not a threat. After all, he hadn't been attacking anyone. He wasn't trying to resurrect Kismet. He was just...running. From what, Chase didn't know.

Eventually, Atlas stopped their search.

But Chase hadn't given up. Some nights, he would find himself waking up in a cold sweat with Apex's crimson glare piercing the dark clouds of his mind. The white scar along his abdomen would flare with pain from the past. He could even feel the snow sticking to his clammy skin again from the military base on Adak Island.

No matter what he did, he couldn't escape that dream.

He had to find Apex. And not just to bring him to justice for his crimes. He knew that was important, and he knew that should've been his intentions, but it wasn't.

No. What he needed from Apex were answers.

Back on Adak Island, Chase was sure he was going to die. But Apex didn't pull the trigger. In fact, he had done a full one-eighty and murdered his master. Before vanishing into thin air, the man had given Chase a look.

He needed to know what it meant.

"Chase."

The blond flinched at the sound of his own name. He glanced at Stella, who was sat beside him in the tinted van inching through the New York traffic. She peered at him with curiosity in her brilliant eyes.

"You alright, hun?"

Swallowing hard, he nodded and forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks." He took a peek out the window. Cars were backed up along the street for at least half a mile. Horns blared through the air band without a conductor.

"I know this is New York but this is ridiculous," Victoria said from the front seat. "I've never seen it this slow before."

"Maybe there was an accident," Andre theorized. The big guy was playing a game on his phone while Oscar watched.

"There better have been," Victoria grumbled. She continued to slouch in her seat with her arms folded and her steely glare pointed toward the outside congestion.

"Uh...guys?" From the backseat, Oscar leaned in between the aisle of the van. He held out his phone, which was playing a live video stream nearby Times Square. "I think this might be what's holding us up."