Sang has always been a little bit different. She was made fun of for being a math-whiz in school up until she was kidnapped. Growing up in the crime world from a young age, she tried to do what she was told and keep her head down...but...that was...
Karl Westphal slammed his hands on the conference table. "Dammit! How many more people are going to have to die!"
He pinched the bridge of his nose before he opened his eyes once more. He glanced around the room meeting the eyes of the teams before him.
"I'm sorry," he said. His black hair was stressed and standing up messily, matching his wrinkled outfit. There were purple moons under his bright blue eyes. It was obvious to everyone in the room that he hadn't been home in a few days and probably hadn't slept in that amount of time either.
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(Karl Westphal)
A throat cleared. "It's okay," Dr. Roberts said, the only one in the room with enough seniority to speak up, despite there being the better part of three separate teams present. Karl Westphal did work for the government, after all, so that gave him some extra standing at the Academy. "This is a tough case. We understand."
Karl let out a humorless chuckle. "Tough case. Yeah, you could say it's a tough case." He pointed the clicker at the big screen. What looked like a medium-sized hotel suite popped up. The clothed tables took up most of the space, with enough there to seat probably 100 guests. Chairs were stacked against the far walls though, dark silhouette towers against the ceiling to floor windows that let in the midday sun. The hotel had a distinct baroque influence to its decor. The walls were obnoxiously designed with gold gilding. Patterns of leaves, ivy, and swirling vines shimmered and writhed where the sunlight hit them.
"This is Suite C at the Hotel Mecure Paris Centre Tour Eiffel. Two weeks ago, 19:00 hours, Central European Time," Karl said. He clicked again and suddenly pictures were flashing by of the same room. You could see the shadows through the windows twitching like a bad quality animation as they jumped from frame to frame.
"CCTV," Corey Henshaw, the resident computer guru, grumbled. "It's like trying to read a book with a strobe light."
"The hotel may be opulent, but you'll find that a lot of places in Europe keep minimal security standards more often than not."
The people gathered around the table watched as a small blond figure was thrown into the room. With every new still, she was farther and farther into the room. All of a sudden, she was on the floor, her fitted gown wrinkled and bunching up around her. She must have fallen. It took a few frames for another figure to follow her into the shot. He was dressed formally as well in a uniform with identification on it.
"Who are those people?" Sabra Jaheem asked. She was a strong African woman with her long hair pulled back severely into a tight ponytail. She was the only one here from her bird team.
"The man is a security guard for the hotel. He usually works during the week, but he was asked to work for the event going on there. It was a big deal, lots of the hotel's security workers were on staff that night. As far as the agency could find, he checks out," Karl answered.
