Mera Hero

7. A Wild Goose Chase

Kevin turned his entire body towards me, his face solemn and his stance rigid. "Not just this institute. He controls the entire city."

"Who? All this time you've been walking around this 'He', when I don't even know who 'he' is! Tell me Kevin. Now!"

"Alright!" He stressed, finally finding the urgency in my voice. "Just know that the next time you don't see me when you come visit your mom, it's because I'm dead."

"That's precisely the reason that I need to know who this man is, so we can stop him before there's another casualty."

He scoffed. "Your not taking me seriously"—I sort of wasn't—"Do you really think that? He can't just be 'stopped'. He's a kingpin with huge criminal organizations. Kingpins aren't easy to 'stop'," he then mumbled, "I should know—I've learned that the hard way."

"Oh really. And how did you learn it the hard way?" I questioned, sarcasm dripping down my words.

"By watching Daredevil of course."

I peered at him for a lengthy moment, and sighed out my nose. "You're so full of shit Kev." If I wasn't in the mood for jokes or games, I would've laughed. I've been having enough of those lately in my life. Right now I was more worried about my mothers well-being. Just hearing about this ass-hat of a man is making me cringe in lividity. "Now are you gonna finish what you started or are you too much of a wuss to?"

"I'm gonna let that pass, 'cause I know how stressed you are right now," he planted his feet firm on the ground and made his was to the door, peeling it wide agape. He gestured inside, "let's go."

I uncrossed my arms that were folded against my chest. "Finally..." I mumbled, following him out the confines of the room.

He led us back in the direction of the lovely encounter we'd just had with Vivian—all the way up to the door that read 'A2-47'. Kevin swung his head left and right, assuring himself that there wasn't anymore people hovering nearby. The hallway was completely empty, but apparently there was huge risk of someone finding out about our whereabouts, which would in theory, lead us to deaths door. If this man is as dangerous as Kevin says he is, then why aren't there any forces preventing him from it? No police force? Feds? Hell, Central Intelligence? The only way an individual could be kept away from staying out behind bars, is if he had connections running deep within this city, or a massive paycheque to reassure certain powers of authority just to get them to maintain their distance. And if that were really the case, than the people here were corrupt to the core.

"We're clear," Kevin whispered, cocking his head to the opening into, yet another hallway, after swiping his ID over a scanning mechanism besides the door.

"At least this one isn't a never ending hall," I mumbled to myself, stepping inside. Coming face to face with a completely white interior seemed blinding to the eyes, as whatever I was accustom to a few minutes ago was mostly hues of baby blue and grey. Three doors were placed along the walls—one on my right and two adjacent to each other on the left. A wide desk, also completely white, had a set of small boards and shelves attached to the sides—sort of in a way to make it elongated or have the capability to hold a hoard of PC's scattered along it. A simple, but eloquent oil painting adorned the wall behind the desk, contrasting brilliantly against the sheer brightness of the area.
"What is this place?" I questioned curiously after taking it all in.

"This," Kevin started, closing the door behind him subtlety, "Is the place where we keep all the visitor logs, patient files and some security footage—the bulk of it is in another room but this is where you'll find who your looking for. We have to be quick though."