Strong For Too Long Trilogy ✔️

21. The Truth Cannot be Unknown

CHAPTER 21: The Truth Cannot be Unknown
(Aaron's POV)

The technicalities of working in such a high-strung, complicated fuse of a job such as running a secret government agency used to both protect the public and engage in taking down foreign invaders like a life long game of battleship on a board of reality...was very. Fucking. Overrated.

I narrow my eyes astutely on the main objective, "Have we checked districts in France? He could have fled there." I voice my thoughts, almost hoping some of the others would think of the same clues, the same possible places this...moronic coward would run his little legs too, but this felt as though there was more to it.

There had to be.

"I have him here at London Height's airports and then, nothing. The cameras don't get him picking a flight, nothing has him even boarding one. I've checked facial recognition, voice recognition.... It's as I he wasn't there, yet the taxi shows him and his carry-on bag at the west entrance of the airport." Alexander says, actually communicating with me. Which was weird, but I look at the cars surrounding the front.

"Run each of their license plates, see if anything out of the ordinary pops up. Javier, what have you found according to the doors he left locked?" I ask him, nudging my head towards the black sliding doors remained tightened and still opaque and hidden from the Numbers I knew that had to be in there.

He stares at me with blank eyes, "Since when are you the boss?"

I blink at him, "I own this company."

Meira nods, taking a sip of her soda water, "That is true." She says.

The drink might be vodka, because she just stated the absolute obvious.

"Running scans now. Should be ready in...an hour." Alexander says to me, stoically. I clench my jaw and in a huff of annoyance, I decide to give up thinking the headache that was pounding at my temples like I'd been forced to listen to police sirens throughout the day blares. I hold one side of my head, my eye fuzzing over as I step towards medical and find Samsara sitting in her lab coat, a computer in front of her, yet a photo of her and the girl I was hoping to avoid in my screwed up heart flutters to.

"She didn't like pictures." I say, abruptly.

"She didn't know I took this one. Do you have another headache?" She asks me, softly as she slides the picture away, back into her straightened, porcelain white lab coat, or doctorate coat, they all looked the same, whether she was checking someone's pulse or inspecting an organ, I'm almost certain it was with the same coat. I grimace in slight disgust, slight pain, mostly torture against my skull.

"Fuck, it hurts today." I mutter to her, taking a slow seat down and holding my head in my hands, it had been a solid week. No Olive. No shining golden locks, no emerald green eyes, no irresistible twitches of her soft red lips are the sharpness of her prominent cheekbones. No advice, no spoken words, no silenced whispers, just nothing. Like she really did mean it when she said 'goodbye', when I walked to the grave I hadn't looked at since she was buried, since her ashes was buried.

I never thought-not even once-that stepped back to that gravestone meant not seeing her in my dreams anymore, no matter how hard I try to trace my mind against everything she did, everything she ever said to me. It's like my entire mind dissolved and blurred out at once, I couldn't feel her next to me anymore, I couldn't feel her voice in my mind anymore. She wasn't appearing anywhere anymore and I just wanted to scream.

She didn't really leave me.

She'll be back.

I will talk to her again.