The Eruption of Mountgomery

Chapter 6

 "Oh, come on, Nero, give it a rest. Maybe she's gone dormant." Caleb sniggered, apparently more amused at the unnecessary quip than Nero was. Nero was glaring at his phone, sitting at the table in the break room of the office, awaiting more messages. "Can you not get over this little crush?" The taunt reached Nero's ears; it drew him out of his reverie.

Where was I? How was I aware of every action that the FBI would do?

Little? He thinks it was little?

Caleb, the man he has worked with since graduating high school, believed this crush to be insignificant. Nero pocketed his phone and halted the circular motion as he stirred his coffee, staring with a bit of hatred in his gaze at the back of Caleb's head. That familiar sense of a well-controlled emotion boiled just below the surface, beckoning to be revealed. Caleb seemed relentless in his endeavors to sway Nero away from the volcano woman. Yes, the woman was female, yes, the killer was organized and hadn't struck in what felt like months. However, Nero knew the true reason for the silence.

There was scheming. However, if the attacks were triggered by unrestrained rage, Nero comprehended the fact that I would be searching for other means of handling the fury. He noted that I was confused as a child, that I had grown accustomed to the glares, to finger-pointing and the whispers behind cupped hands when I would pass them by. He left me—he had to leave me. He protected me then. He tried to protect me. He could not fathom why any bullied child would develop such a surging sense of combating against all of society for a minority of people.

Was it a minority? Nero sighed though, raising the cup to his lips. "Little crush? A little insignificant crush?" He asked when the cup met the table once more. "I spent years tracking her down before it was unveiled that she was murdered."

"She was a threat. You know that."

"Threat?" Nero derided, with a slight arching of his eyebrow inwards. "The person I had known did absolutely nothing to deserve what she got." He paused, his breath ragged as if he had just run a marathon. His heart thrummed in his ears and his face warmed. "I have powers, yet I am treated just as you are."

"That's different." Caleb affirmed stubbornly.

Nero raised an eyebrow then slammed his mug onto the table, causing several droplets of the coffee to become a frozen droplet of the brown liquid. Softly, he inquired, "How, Caleb, is an innocent child who did not know of her powers until she joined the military different than me who actively knew what they were, and was treated the same if not better than the child who knew nothing about her own gifts?"

Caleb simply did not have an argument; he folded his arms across his chest. Inhaling sharply, Nero kept pushing for the answers he sought after. "Does Haben share the same biased views?"

Caleb nodded solemnly, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips. "She was not the same person who you speak so highly of. Nero, she killed for other countries."

Nero had enough. He stormed out of the break room; and into his office. His desk drawer slid open and a small tub of water shifted harshly within the container. Placing it on the floor behind his desk, he glared at Caleb. With a subtle flick of his wrist, a small, semi-solidified orb of water hovered over the plastic tug, and he flicked his wrist again, the water drenching the closed door of his office. Replacing the lid of the container of water, Nero leaned back, gazing at his phone every so often. He opened the website—her website or whomever this assassin was and noticed everything—gone. There was no detailed information, nothing was left of the site except a white block of text upon a crimson background.

It read:

I am both your finest assistant and your greatest challenger. Do not dare represent me for a fool, Officer Loch. It would seem, however, your own are actively working against you, treating you like a dead man walking. Perhaps I will contemplate our modest rendezvous.

Much to the dismay and utter surprise of Nero, the text vanished then the site and his computer completely crashed. Nero threw his head back and yelled; everything he had worked for—every once of circumstantial evidence was gone! Wiped completely from the Internet, not even a note was screen captured. Crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child, he stood from his desk and sauntered toward the window, which overlooked the Potomac river. Nero froze, what if—just what if—Nero grabbed his coat jacket and knocked carefully on his partner's door.

A muffled 'come in' radiated from the other side of the door and Nero entered. "Sorry for the outburst. I know not what consumed me. Where was her body found?"

"The Potomac. Why? Does it even matter?" Caleb questioned clearly exasperated.

"She was imprisoned before her death, correct?"

Caleb raised an eyebrow at that inquiry and swallowed a sour lump that had begun to take form in the back of his throat. "She was on the basis that she posed—"

"—A significant threat to the United States' national security, but if she did indeed pose this threat, why was she not escorted overseas to Guantanamo or another federal prison?"

Caleb shrugged, however Nero felt he knew the answer already. He mentioned how he needed her personnel file during her time as a soldier. When Caleb inquired as to why, Nero refused to acknowledge Caleb's necessity for knowing. The intelligence, Caleb assured, would be sent over to his email, however the intelligence must be wiped completely from the hard drive. Nero left Caleb's office, very pleased with himself. He scurried to his car.

Upon his arrival to the Potomac, where it was claimed that she was tossed like garbage, he sauntered toward the river's edge. The earth trembled slightly under his shifting weight. His eyes narrowed as his control wavered. He felt his heart crawl to the back of his throat and pulsate. However, just as quickly as that feeling came over, there was the static crackle of his radio coming to life. The voice was not familiar.

"You were smart to come here. We are finally alone. Just as I thought I had been that day. You sympathized with me since the day we first met. Was it then you adored me? The clichéd 'love at first sight' or did it develop slowly, like the creeping of death that drowning brings?"

Nero could not find his voice, but he kicked the ground. The world swirled in and out of focus and the water rose up to greet his feet. He kicked the water, watching as the droplets turn to ice. He back meets the warm grass as he is completely soaked through. Growling, low, in the back of his throat, his radio crackles to life. "You feel it—intoxicating, isn't it? You seem to have a phone number that I control. If you really did love me, that anger you feel is not caused by fear. Fear is what drives humanity—well those who are nothing more than mortals. You loved me, or perhaps you still do. You believe I am alive."

Nero, seeming to recover from his mounting fury, snarled out, "Show yourself."

Upon that statement, a young woman knelt beside him, the only describable features were the crimson bandanna and scathing crimson eyes. Just as quickly as she had appeared, she had vanished with a feminine cackle. Nero abruptly shot up like a bullet and scrambled to his feet. Drawing his weapon, he cursed colorfully at the realization the weapon was waterlogged. Nero huffed, returning to his vehicle and headed home. One thing was certain, that woman was an ally. Vesuvius had someone actively working with her in a partnership. What is in store for him next?

Nero glared at his phone and the message gave his phone life. Did you truly expect me to appear?