Nobody Praying For Me

Chapter 3

Edward buried his face in his hands, the file open and trapped between his elbows. His coffee had long been forgotten, the lingering sour taste of it on his tongue. He had been up since the early hours of the morning and had yet to go back to sleep.

His computer sat off to the other side of him as he dug into AXIOM; their subsidiary companies and anyone that could have potentially been of any use to him. They were good, with each of their websites as close to legitimate businesses as a private military company could manage and each one with ties that came back clean. If they had been willing to frame him, going to the lengths of hiding away their business ventures was a small matter.

But he knew he was working from the ground up; attending meetings were off the table, for everyone was bound to know his face. The last thing he needed was to dodge the police, again.

He let out a tired sigh, rubbing at his eyes, barely grasping at the handle of the mug as he lazily scrolled through the various websites. Edward had brought the mug to his lips as the news rattled on about the search net being widened, and his phone buzzed against the sofa. The cup was down with a thud, Edward already moving to look at the screen of his burner phone.

Unknown: Check out Dylan Trevino.

Edward allowed himself a quiet smirk, gone as quickly as it had came. David was sticking his neck out on the line, once more. Perhaps in the knowledge that what was given to him in the file was mostly standard knowledge.

Tucking the phone into his front pocket, he returned to the search at hand. His initial thoughts of Dylan being a male, but had been surprised to find a neatly presented female with close cropped hair instead. Daughter of the retired Gerald Trevino, the CEO of Trevino Publishing Ltd., who had officially stepped up into her father's footsteps a year and a half ago. His eyes narrowed as he skimmed their background before his eyes rested on a particular article linking to a book convention.

"You one crafty bastard, Dave."

Checking the date of the convention, it was happening tomorrow afternoon. A public event, with plenty of people. Though sparse on the information, he knew that there had to be something worthwhile that he could glean from a convention like this, a connection to be found.

Dylan seemed like an overall good young woman, mid-twenties and smart. She had gone to Oxford University, though had hit a string of bad luck with several jobs before eventually turning to focus on assisting her father in their company. Her father, however, he reckoned was a man he needed to add to his mental wall of suspects - AXIOM was involved in some way; whether it was as simple as striking a deal to launder dirty money through their legitimate business or on a deeper level.

A sudden spasm of pain had rocketed through his side of his head, causing him to freeze and clutch at his head, wincing; he forced himself to breath through it.

Edward stumbled out onto the landing to head upstairs to the bathroom, seeking out ibuprofen. His hand clamped down on the ceramic sink as he fumbled through the cabinet with another before popping two into his mouth and washing it down with water from the tap.

He would have dismissed it as just another headache, if it weren't his past coming back to haunt him.

The fateful moment in which David had found him cradling the rifle, casing on the floor.

Sirens and the soft whir of helicopter blades bearing down on his position.