The Eruption of Mountgomery

Chapter 8

Nero stared at the 404'd page that had once been my site. It was the only thing that could lead him directly to me. Occasionally a sputter from the event at the Potomac tore from his throat. Uneasily, my presence was unwarranted, but as quickly as Isabel had arrived, she was gone like a specter appearing in the dark of night then she vanished. He was concealing too much, bearing too many burdens and he could not swallow all of it down.

He absently tapped the button of his mouse, without refreshing the page. When he was approached by Caleb, to speak to his superior about the progress of the case, he swallowed thickly. He was back to square one—however I had a partner, one that would be willing to lead him to me. Don't you think that was one of my goals? Unlike him, I was not driven by my need for affection. There were a million things Nero would rather do than have an intelligent assassin toy with him like a skit from some children's cartoon. While the attempts to aggravate him were indeed successful, Nero grabbed his jacket and slammed the lid of his laptop as he sauntered to Haben's office.

Once again, upon entering her domain, she had her back to him, her arms clasped behind her back. There was an unidentifiable emotion that clung to the air, like a spider on its web. Once he entered the room and the lock clicked into place, she faced him. She motioned for him. A low amused laugh took the place of the silence and Nero could do nothing, but helplessly watch when his employer met his gaze.

"Important intelligence was hacked from the database. My information, yours, and your partner's information. You are so consumed—"

"What? You think I did this to help her? I do not have the privilege of accessing that information. I am not—ma'am I believe you are making a huge mistake. She is dead! Even if she wasn't—I—wouldn't—" The words fell flat from his lips, yet the ice that seemed to cling to the air refused to relent. Nero closed his eyes, embracing hell to return, but when it did not, he opened an eye.

Jennifer huffed and leaned forward, placing her palms onto the desk. "I have had no qualms with you chasing some insane hypothesis, Loch. I had everything under lock and key. How did you infiltrate the intelligence?"

Nero gaped at the woman. "Look at my browsing history, look at my calls. Everything is in order. I have done nothing except chase a theory and please, allow me to bring this assassin to justice. Even if it is—"

Her fist slammed the table, rattling the water within the metal cylindrical cup and she ground out, "Blaise Vesuvius is dead, Nero. She is never coming back and even if she was alive, I doubt she would appreciate a man who abandoned her, actively working in her corner under the misguided guise of a law enforcement agent."

Softly, Nero murmured, "What was in that document that has you so frightened?"

Jennifer's eyes were wild, a burning ire resided there that he never knew she possessed. Even if she did possess it, it was something she never allowed her employees to bear witness to. In fact, it was almost like my eyes in a way, but in an icy tone, "That is none of your concern, and if I find out that it was indeed you who was behind the intelligence breach—I will sue you in every plausible court and you will never see Vesuvius."

Nero quickly exited the office and knocked upon his partner's door. What did Haben mean by that? Nero shifted from foot to foot, nervously attempting to soothe the anxiety that welled within him. Was I right? Of course, I knew I was, but Nero, he needed convincing. "Caleb, can we talk?" Nero stammered out; an emotion other than the anxiety he felt churned within the pit of his stomach.

Caleb shuffled some paperwork and with a faux smile, nodded. "Yes. Sure. Whatever. What's wrong?"

"Haben. Caleb, she seems to believe—"

"—you hacked the database?" He leaned back in his chair, turning a pen between his fingers. "Come on, Nero, she is suspicious. You act as though you are guilty. Shit, are you?"

Nero shook his head, gnawing on his inner cheek. There was a chill that abruptly ambled into the room. The said chill did not dare infect Nero, but he watched as Caleb seized slightly. "She was defensive, Caleb. She was fearful of the information contained in the breach. Her whole demeanor changed. Is there something I do not know about?"

"You are young, Nero. You do not know the world. You cannot comprehend the risks she posed to the country."

Nero's eyes narrowed, quickly morphing into two chips of ice green. "Really Caleb? You are defying every shred of trust I have built with you over the years. You are my partner; you are supposed to have my back. What are you and Haben hiding? What are in those files?"

Caleb's lips curled into a dangerous sneer as he replied, "Those files were classified documents. Obtaining those is an illegal act and whoever did it will face serious consequences. Even if you did receive those—"

"I did not fucking seize those documents, Jones. I thought you knew me better than that. Besides, you are supposed to help me with the case, not worry about personnel files."

Caleb's chair scraped noisily against the floor as he rose from the piece of furniture. The dangerous smile refused to falter; it did not waver. The chill that entered the room rapidly dwindled. A low train-like hum radiated in the distance. His ears rung and Nero shook his head. Scoffing, he folded his arms across his chest, exiting his partner's office. Fine then, he mused softly, he'd work on the case alone. However, upon reentering his office, the door slammed harshly, causing the walls to tremble against the radiating thud from the door clicking into place. An orb of water hovered in front of his eyes before it collapsed to the ground soaking the carpet. That low growl grew into a crescendo and his office trembled, his eyes were trained upon his desk.

He sauntered toward the windows, watching as the trees swayed back and forth as if the trees were a boat upon the frothing ocean surface. The sky was cloudless, a sea of baby blue without a speck of the white-grey condensed froth. Sirens wailed off in the distance, chilling Nero to the bone.

He knew the sirens, but when he dove under the desk, there was a silence which trumped the childish fear. His eyes tightened, forming a rim of an inky blackness that he was unfamiliar with outside of sleep. That simmering rage overwhelmed him—the sires did not die down; they would not die down. Why was I truly toying with him? What did I want from him? The answer seemed to come in the form of the popcorn-like chime of his phone which was perched precariously on the edge of the desk in its charging port. Lowering it, he raised an eyebrow at the message.

His eyes narrowed; hardening into a swirl of an almost livid shade. His eyes were a shade leaning closer to a more pronounced grey with a blue exterior.

You really do have quite the temper, do you not? Your allies pose more of a threat than I do. Do you not know that I knew you were watching me. There will come a time when you will have decided if I am the most critical person in your life than continuing to be a pawn of Jennifer Haben. Remember this, I know you love me, but one question remains—do I return your affections?

Upon rereading the text, Nero's eyebrow shifted upward. Rising from his spot on the floor, he reopened the lid of his laptop, noticing another message form his tormentor. That stillness to the air became thicker, a hiss of hesitation as the refreshed screen completed its buffering process. How was I so well-versed in accessing an emotion he concealed so well—he controlled so well baffled him. Nero knew what I was, he had seen my eyes shift from their normal shade of verdant to a murderous crimson with the specks of green and yellow. Despite that fact, though, he wondered if I was still reckless in my own temperament. He yearned to know if the question was accurate.

I wished even now, I admitted it then—I did feel something that was not hate toward him. I knew he needed to see me, needed to know where I would strike next. Something seemed to bother him though. Could I really see him? How else would I have known that toxic emotion frothed just underneath the surface? Oh, yes, I watched him, but it was from a distance. He shook his head and refocused his attention away from me and my ally—that accomplice who bore a striking and uncanny resemblance to me. I need a name, and I need one soon.