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Chapter -3- Rise of the Pawns

Friday December 1, sundown San Leandro, California ...

** Samantha tested her cuffs.** The Captain sat up in the front passenger seat looking through her phone, unaware that the camera feature remained active. The phone continued to broadcast information to her contact lenses. A text box showed up on the left corner of her vision, information streamed from Lance.

It read, 'The man holding your phone is a pawn. He may release you; he may take you to where the localized operation is centralized. I'd like to determine if it's at a precinct or something else all together. I need for you to hold it together but tell them nothing.'

Text in the box began to scroll slowly, making it easy for her to read. 'Anything they ask you, tell them it's above their paygrade or classified. If they ask about your agency, tell them you were moved to a new division that is a higher need-to-know clearance than before. Try and keep Eric alive. The contacts have a gyroscope sensor. Nod three times if you understand.'

Samantha tilted her head forward three times.

Another text message crossed before her eyes. 'I have a GPS fix on your phone. You've left Oakland and are headed into San Francisco. Be ready for anything. Remind Eric not to use his ability and be discrete if possible. I'd like to find out exactly how they're able to determine who has abilities. It may be a person who is able to sense those with abilities and if so I'd like to know more about them and why they're doing it. My current source of intelligence suggests it's a girl named Krys Monroe who was said to have died August 23rd2011 in Virginia. Karla shot her in the leg in August. She's been working as a nightclub owner since shortly after that time. If you come face to face with her ask if she remembers Greg Watson of the CIA. Ask how "Anne" is doing. That's her sister, said to have died August 22nd, 2011 in Denver. Gauge her responses when you bring up their names. Do you understand?'

Again, Samantha nodded three times. The text faded from her eyes. Moments later a new text appeared. 'You've passed the precinct where Frank Sanders is assigned. Stand by.' Another few minutes passed, then, 'You're pulling into a lot at the Pages Lost gothic night club. Stay alive. Eric is important, but you're irreplaceable.'

She nodded three more times then cleared her throat and said, "That's a lot of series of turns you made Captain. I'm young but I was a highly trained agent and I know my surroundings. Why aren't we going to the police department?"

"My sources said you don't know the area and you weren't an agent very long, young lady."

"Your sources don't know very much. I've counted the turns and counted time to guesstimate the distance between them. Seems to me you're at the new gothic nightclub if I recall correctly. What was it called? Pages Lost, right? Why are we here?"

Sanders turned around in his seat and eyed her for a moment. "Yes, that's where we're at, young lady. You're sharp, but it makes me question if you're...special. And if that's the case, well...we'll know soon enough."

"What do you mean?"

"Depending on how things go this afternoon, Agent Summers, you will be given information or handed over and dealt with. Think of it as working with us for immunity or being considered Mr. Loupe's accomplice since we found you harboring a known fugitive. But we need to find out who you are first. We have ways of doing that."

The van backed up at a slow pace then came to a stop. The back doors opened and an officer unchained Samantha from the wall-rail. The SWAT officer unsecured Eric next. Sanders herded Samantha and Eric into the club with a wall of SWAT officers lined up, riot shields held high, to provide privacy.

Samantha glanced over her shoulder at Eric then noticed the van lacked decals. "Hey, Sanders, you always put uniformed men in unmarked vehicles?"

"For your protection," he said in a dismissive tone.

Once inside the club, she and Eric walked to the center of the dance floor at gunpoint. The officers fanned out around the two and kept their weapons trained on the two.

A girl with blue hair, no older than Samantha, came out from behind the bar. She folded her arms and approached them. She turned to Sanders who handed over the cellphone. The girl looked over the phone through its plastic evidence bag then asked, "Who owns this?"

"The girl, Agent Samantha Summers. USPRI."

"I thought they were on division hiatus or whatever the term is?"

"She's officially suspended. Unofficially, she came into my office with viable credentials. But her badge is a formality to be shown to very, very high-ranking government officials. Like, directors of an intelligence agency, cabinet members and the like."

The girl eyed Sanders. "How do you know about it then, Frank?"

"Because my brother was an USPRI agent. He died in the line of duty. In his will, I was given an encrypted flash drive. Last July I received the password from Dr. Aris Falcon in an email forwarded to me from the Chief of Police. It was full of extremely confidential USPRI information that my brother collected during his time with the agency, spanning back four years. I traced the email from the chief back to your employer, the doctor."

"You couldn't even keep your inspector in line, Frank. I had to do it for you."

"With all due respect, Miss Monroe, Reno is still alive. Your people didn't do a very good job. You're supposed to be able to sense people with abilities but you didn't flag him to me. Now he's manifested some sort of energy ability. I've kept him away from Falcon, but the reason he came after _you_was because you smarted off at him while serving drinks. That's your fault, not mine. You said things to him and the gypsy girl that made him piece it together. I couldn't protect you after that. And guess what? I've been sent an invite to the Atlantic. I'm just biding my time. Now, are these two freaks or not?"

Krys grimaced then walked over to Eric and Samantha. She paced in front of them for a moment then said, "The man has an ability. The girl is clean. Let's question her then perhaps un-cuff her."

"She was aiding an abetting..."

Krys Monroe held her hand up. "No, Frank! You're wrong. She was doing her job. She was investigating him. These people are given sensitivity classes. They're trained to treat people with abilities with respect. That's why they useless to our cause."

More text filled the contact lenses. Samantha read it then recited it. "Krys Monroe, you have an ability. Yours is to sense who is and who is not supernatural. I don't know how you do it. If you sense it, or if you can see an aura, but you're using your ability to participate in the genocide of the supernatural 'Esoteric Community' and that makes you the most guilty supernatural murderer to date. I may be suspended but that doesn't mean that I can't pull in some favors and burn your whole operation down."

Krys looked down at the phone again then handed it to Samantha. "Here, hold this." Then, without warning, she hauled off and punched Samantha in the gut then punched her again in the face. "Mind your manners, agent."

Samantha slumped to one knee. She withdrew the phone from the evidence bag and slid it into a strap on her chest, belonging to a now-empty gear bag similar to a messenger's bag. The phone clicked into place. She stood up and said, "You're lucky I'm in these cuffs."

Krys tilted her head. "Oh, you're a spirited one. Sanders, give me the key." She took a key from Frank then unlocked Samantha's handcuffs. "There are quite a few supernaturals behind this so-called genocide. So, it's not really genocide, now, is it? It's our kind purging the world of people who do not deserve to have abilities. We're using whatever is at our disposal to kill those with abilities that are undeserving or do not share our vision. Sadly, that's most everyone, starting with the United Esoteric Council. Every sect has been eliminated. I get to live. The doctor gets to live. Not many more get to make that claim. Your friend Eric certainly does not get to make that claim."

Samantha stood up and cleared her throat. "Didn't you die back on August 23rd of 2011? You're awful young looking to be dead."

"You have no idea what you're talking about, agent."

"I'm talking about the CIA. Greg Watson. I'm talking about Anne, your sister, dying in Denver the day prior to you dying in Virginia. I'm talking about who you were, not who you are now. So, how have you not aged?"

Krys punched Samantha in the face again, harder than before. Monroe shook her fist to lessen the sting of the strike.

Sam brought her hands up to rub at her jawline. "Your little nightclub seems to be doing pretty good. Well enough for you to have that fancy little 2023 Acura NSX out there. Nice car, nice club. But if I finish my investigation and find out you're guilty of murdering all the people with abilities, or at the very least pointing them all out, then I will come for you. Sensitivity classes be damned; you will get no respect. I will fry you. I will burn down everything you love until there is nothing left. And then I will come for you, then I will come for your employer, the geneticist."

Krys went for a low jab, followed by a kick. Samantha deflected both strikes.

"You've got sloppy form."

"Gee agent, I'm so sorry," said Krys, sarcasm dripping from her tone. "It's from taking a bullet because one of you freaks shot me."

"That's no excuse not to keep your hands up. Here, let me give you a proper lesson." Samantha faked a low left jab then followed through with a right-handed punch across Monroe's face. "I let you hit me before. I had to see if your bite was as bad as your bark. Sadly, both are disappointing."

Krys teetered back, eyes wide. She balled both hands into fists. "If you so much as come near me..."

Samantha took a single step forward. "You'll do what? Be a bigger bitch than you are now?"

Again, Krys drew her hand back. Samantha brought her hand up, blocked the attack and buried her other hand into Krys' gut. She followed through with a full swing punch, stepping past Monroe. The agent brought her elbow back and struck Krys in the side of her face.

Krys flailed, spun off balance. She faced away from Agent Summers, stunned. Samantha turned about, brought her knee into the side of Krys' leg then shoved her backwards.

Monroe went to the floor with a grunt. Some of the SWAT officers lifted their weapons to cover the agent.

The chains on the agent's ankles rattled. "That's right, shoot me for defending myself," Samantha snapped. "You men should be ashamed of yourselves. These people are guilty of something darker than war crimes. They're terrorists against humanity and guilty of killing hundreds of thousands of people last August." She put her foot on Krys' outer thigh, causing the ankle chains to rattle again. "Isn't this where you were shot back in August while fighting these people you hate so much?"

Krys grimaced and sat up. "Yes. I was."

"They could have killed you in self defense. But they wounded you and let you live. Yet you continue to hunt them to near extinction. So who's the group with the humanity and who is killer? You're hindering my investigation by standing in my way."

"Investigation?! You're suspended! Do you know what happens to suspended investigators who abuse their suspended badge? They wind up getting into things that they can't handle. And before they know it, they wind up being on a roof in the rain. They get torn apart and struck by lightning. You're out of line, agent."

Samantha picked up the key next to Monroe then leaned over and unfastened her ankle cuffs. She narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "No. After being released from the defunct USPRI, I was recruited to an investigative group that is far higher up on the food chain. USPRI was an American Government agency. What I'm doing, now, is akin to Interpol for supernatural people. I represent a global entity."

"Using your old badge?" asked Sanders, brows arched.

"Seeing my new credentials is classified. I was told to use my old creds. My superiors are in contact with me right now. They have been all along, since before you arrived to pick us up in San Leandro. I was told to allow myself to be brought here so that they can see who else is involved. I was chosen because my employer feels that older USPRI agents might be susceptible to working with people who kill supernaturals. I was brought on because they felt I was impartial. But if you attack me again, this place will get leveled."

"Big words. You have a way to back them up?" asked Krys with a smirk.

Samantha rubbed her jaw where she'd been hit earlier then nodded. She turned to Frank Sanders and said, "Access information on Frank Sanders. Access pay grade of brother and display on my HUD."

She closed one eye paused then said, "Jeremiah Robert Sanders, born 1972, died on a covert operation in 2022, prior to his fiftieth birthday. His security pay code was Senior Level 304A, and he brought in...oh my, two hundred ten thousand a year. That's pretty high, huh? Almost a quarter million a year. Am I right?"

Sanders eyed her. "That was on his confidential IRS tax sheet included in the digital drive. There's no way you could have access to that."

Samantha folded her arms, playing along with the information Lance posted in her contact lenses. "I just asked for the information. I have that access. He was nearly maxed out for having a Federal SL pay level. Don't try figuring out how I'm getting my information. There's a surgically implanted induction speaker against my jawbone."

Sanders narrowed his gaze. "Monroe, do you see how she's looking through us? I've seen that fifty-yard stare before. Often, actually." He approached Samantha and leaned in close, looking into her eyes. She backed away from him.

"Personal space, Frank."

Krys turned her attention to Eric. "So. You killed a lot of people. They were private investors for my employer. You killed them to hurt my employer but as you can see we're still in business, Eric. It is Eric, isn't it? You attacked Dr. Falcon's operation personally. That makes you our number one enemy this week."

Frank approached Krys and guided her outside of the circle of SWAT officers. "Listen. If you really worked for the same company my brother worked for, and you're part of a bigger outfit now, then I want you to know that we're on the same side."

Samantha furrowed her brows. She looked back at Krys and Eric in the circle of guns then back at Frank Sanders. "What're you talking about?"

"I just had to fire one of my inspectors, Reno Nevada. He has some sort of energy-based ability. But we think he might have been working with others who have abilities because he was able to close out a record number of cases in such a short time. But if you find him, watch him. If he kills even one single person, I want you to call me. Now, the man you were working with, Eric, killed eleven people with a gun then used his ability to flip police cars, bowl over guards, and try to escape."

Samantha smirked. "I know what Eric did. He is looking for answers. He believes the CIA managed to program him to use his abilities to attack people. So what's the story behind this guy, Reno Nevada? Is that seriously his name?"

"Yes, he gets that a lot. Anyhow, we think he might have been working with others with abilities because he was able to close out a record number of cases in such a short time. But if you find him, watch him. If he kills even one single person, I want you to call me because that will prove my point to you. These people use their abilities in a manner that is best described as cavalier and dangerous."

"They're not all bad."

"You don't get it do you? One of my own cops was one of those people with abilities. He attacked this club recently. We think he was using abilities to close legit cases but we're investigating whether or not he may have been hiding supernatural activity and sweeping it under the rug with his badge. He worked for me. I thought I knew him just like you think you know Eric Loupe. Again, he killed eleven people. How well do you really know him? We're not enemies, Agent Summers. I can prove it."

Sam sneered in response. "How?"

He eyed her. "Like I said. I want you to find and tail my old employee, Reno Nevada. He was an inspector. He had some sort of energy ability. And he may be dangerous. He has a temper and was recently fired."

"Eric was forced to do something. Possibly by someone who has the ability to bend or break willpower. Yes, it exists. I believe him. So why do you think this Nevada guy is so dangerous?"

Sanders sighed. He glanced back to Krys and Eric, who were exchanging witty banter then he turned to Summers again. "Trust me, agent, there are a lot of sides to this. Whether or not the CIA has turned Eric Loupe into a weapon no longer matters. I'm working with a group that is funded by multiple governments and our job is to stop all of this. It's heart breaking that people have to die but whether or not they're a Manchurian Candidate or a shy teenager who doesn't understand that his radiation ability makes him dangerous to society...the fact remains that innocent people are safer when these supernatural people are gone. Just find and watch Reno. THEN make a conclusion. Tell me if I'm right or wrong and if he is or isn't a hothead whose temper flairs up. Watch him and tell me if he starts doing things he shouldn't. You'll see that I'm right, trust me."

"Fine, I'll look for him and..."

Suddenly, Eric shouted, "I will find him, and so help me God if he's dead, I will make you pay!" A wave of shadow knocked everyone down and created a layer that pinned everyone to the floor including Summers and Sanders.

She looked over at the police Captain with the weight against her chest and said, "What did your friend say to him?!"

"I don't know," he replied with a grunt.

"Eric!" she shouted. "Wait!"

"He's getting away!" shouted one of the SWAT members who angled their gun low and tried shooting along the floor.

All at once the weight of the shadows disappeared. Samantha sat up, eyes wide and slack jaw. She grunted and rubbed the side of her head. "Goddammit! You assholes scared him away!"

The SWAT officers rose to their feet, guns to the ready.

Krys turned back to Samantha, eyes narrowed. "No, you stupid bitch. You trusted someone who is not mentally stable! He demanded information about his uncle. Then when I told him I don't know anything, he flipped shit. This is what you get for trusting someone who kills and can't even give a good reason for it. Because he's a goddamn freak."

Summers turned to face Frank and said, "This isn't over. I'll keep an eye out for your boy. But stay the hell out of my investigation or I'll have you sent somewhere much darker and much further away than Guantanamo. Do you understand me?" She turned towards Krys and shoved by her. "If I find out you're at the heart of my investigation, well...like I told you a bit ago...I'll burn down your whole world. So help me God, I'll not stop until I see you in flames. So you'd better pray you're innocent." She made her way through the circle of SWAT cops.

As Summers made her way towards the exit, she picked up speed and hit the doors at a full run, calling after Eric Loupe.

X

---

X

Half an hour later...

** Eric hurried through the street**. He headed through an alley and came to a halt at the far end. Loupe looked at the street names, then broke into a sprint and made his way past a construction site to a warehouse. He ran towards it, drew his arms back and swung them. A powerful shadow rose up and struck the rolling door, sending it off its track.

He barreled through and dashed into the small warehouse, ever alert and ready for anything. His eyes widened in surprise, half expecting a legion of guards or the mercenaries in black. At the center, he saw a large stasis pod at a forty-five degree angle. He approached it. Donovan Loupe slept within, floating in a nutrient solution. A monitor on the side read, "Negative 196 Celsius."

"I wouldn't open that if I were you." The voice, confident and somewhat musical, sounded familiar.

Eric swallowed. He turned slowly to the left, facing Sire St. Leonard. He clenched his jaw. "You."

"Me. You just caught me as I was leaving. Headed east with your uncle, here. If you'd have opened that stasis chamber, he'd have thawed improperly and froze to death. That liquid keeps him frozen almost two hundred degrees below zero so that he is in stasis. The solution won't solidify and it keeps his tissue, organs, blood and brain from being damaged by the cold. Trust me, if the process isn't completed in a proper fashion, your uncle would die. We use an electric current to keep instant freezing from happening. It's the only way a person can be brought from stasis. Then again, it's all...theoretical. The fact is, no person has ever been successfully brought out of cryogenic stasis to date. At least not yet. Perhaps if suicidal people were to volunteer for being frozen to test the reviving process, we'd be able to master the..."

"You son of a bitch, I'll..."

"Do NOTHING!" Sire approached him and said, "Get down on all fours like a dog."

As Sire came closer, Eric found it impossible to resist. He crumbled to his hands and knees, humiliated. "I will kill you."

"No. You will tell me who you've been working with since leaving Africa."

"Karla. The succubus."

"Oh, yes. I know Karla. Her abilities are not compatible with my partner in this endeavor. So we decided to kill her instead of using her. Sadly, we've been unable to catch her or kill her. She's proven to be quite a thorn. I wouldn't call her a rose, though. Eye candy at best."

"Screw you. She's going to crush you. I've seen her fight. She'll mop the floor with you from a distance. You'll never see it coming."

"Actually, I already have seen how this plays out. So listen carefully." Sire lowered to one knee and put his hand beneath Eric's chin. Their eyes met. "Eric Loupe, take a break from your so-called quest for answers. Let answers find you; there's no need to seek out something when you don't know where to look for it. The same goes for your uncle. You could try to look for him or you could help Karla on her mission. You suddenly have an overwhelming urge to protect her...keep her safe. And then, if her mission coincides with your hunt for answers or finding your uncle...so much the better. But you're now developing feelings for her. She comes first."

Eric's jaw went slack. His eyes widened, hanging onto every word said to him, as though in a trance.

Sire licked his lips and continued in the calm rhythmic speaking cadence. "Regardless of the fact she is a succubus, you are falling in love with her. You're undeniably in love with her but you obey your insecurities and say nothing at first. You can only tell her once the timing is right. Eric, she came to rescue you from Africa. She saved your life and she believed in you when you had nobody, Eric. Sure, she's a bit childish at times...but you're getting in touch with your feelings for her. Stay close."

Eric said nothing.

"You will do as Karla tells you for the time being while you await your next order from me. You will stay in this holding pattern whether it takes a week, a decade, or a century. You'll take orders from only one of two voices. Mine or Doctor Aris Falcon - we're the only ones that will be able to activate you. You'll never remember your past. Make room for future memories instead. You'll never remember this conversation. You'll never remember seeing Donovan in this warehouse. All you know, now, is that you love Karla, you want to be at her side, and you harbor a quiet jealousy for all her other suitors, especially her male lovers. You want nothing more than to try and start a family with her if it's possible. With Karla."

Eric's eyes watered, his tongue felt dry.

"You have nothing normal in your life, so you'll seek out 'normal things.' You will crave a relationship, you will try to have a family - these are normal things. So you'll aspire to make them happen by any means necessary. You feel as though you're the only one who can tame Karla's wild side. She has sex, but she doesn't have love, she doesn't have passion. Take your time and build emotional trust. Take things slow and bond with her. Don't rush into things with her or you'll push her away. Bide your time then show her love. Now walk away. You've just hit your head and everything is fuzzy. You have been wondering San Francisco looking for answers, found none, and now you want nothing more than to find Karla Howard and be by her side. Remember, it's okay if she's distracted from her mission so long as her split attention is focused on you. Help her with her mission but slowly begin to encourage her to start a family with you when the timing is right."

Eric's eyes began to dry out. He kept his gaze on Sire.

"Finally, I want you to follow Karla around on her adventure. There will come a time when you may see her trade her sexual addiction for a new one. If this happens, you will cast aside your distrust of drugs and encourage her to swap the old addiction for the new one. You will tell yourself that if she trades sex for something else, you'll have her all to yourself. No suitors means you can seize the opportunity to start a relationship with her."

Eric remained motionless on all fours.

Sire smirked. He picked up a nearby broken piece of a wood pallet then struck Eric in the face. He tossed the 2x4 across the empty warehouse then withdrew a remote control box from his pocket. He thumbed a button and the image of Donovan in the stasis tube disappeared. In its wake was a cylindrical tube with holo-projection emitters around it. Sire picked it up and flipped the switch. The battery indicator read, '12%' on a small screen. He turned from Eric and said, "You're dazed. You'll snap out it in a few minutes and remember exactly what I've told you to do but have no memory of this conversation." He walked out of the warehouse.

Eric rolled onto his back, panting softly and staring off into space. He put his hand to his head and gently rubbed his fingers over the slight bump beneath his hairline where he'd been struck. "...Karla."

X

---

X

Friday, December 1 - 10:30pm San Francisco, California ...

** The door opened,** Samantha looked up at him then shook her head. "I can't find Eric but he's alive. Not going to lie...I'm not sure how I feel about him. He ran off and left me there."

"Come inside. We need to figure out our next move." He shut the door behind her.

Sam sighed and slumped on his sofa. "I could have been shot to death. I lied when I said my support could level that stupid goth club. I don't want to be put into that position anymore. I don't have backup; it's just me."

"Samantha, knowledge is power. I gave you information and you used it against them. It kept you alive. You didn't need backup. You didn't need an airstrike. You just needed to say the right combination of words. You did that; you walked out of there with a lead."

"A lead?? What lead?! The Captain tried to play a head game with me by suggesting I should tail his old employee. They're probably trying to have me lead them to this Nevada guy or something."

"Reno Nevada is the lead. They tipped their hand - they're interested in Reno specifically. Also, you're not the only one working for me. But you are the only one who asks too many questions and has a Government background."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I can verify that you've not been followed this far, so they're not tailing you. They're only interested in Nevada."

"Yeah, Lance. It's because he's manifested an ability now."

"Krys didn't read him as having an ability. She thought he was a nosey cop. They don't understand how he dodged her radar. And they don't know how his new electricity ability could have helped him solve cases. They have questions, undoubtedly."

"Like what?! Why would they want him watched? It doesn't make sense."

Lance sat down on the recliner adjacent to the couch and said, "My intelligence network suggests that Aris is somehow stealing abilities and killing people so they don't stand in his way. Anyone whose ability isn't compatible with him or disinterests him, he targeted them in the raids last August. Survivors are chased down and executed."

"So...?"

"Then Reno comes along, solves a long list of cases and isn't identified by Krys. He gets too nosey in her operation. She has him killed on a roof in the rain. Suddenly people report seeing Mr. Nevada with glowing pupils and having some sort of control over electricity. Falcon and Monroe likely wonder if someone else is able to steal abilities and give them to others. They want to know who is helping him, or if he's some sort of anomaly. Everyone is curious about Reno. I want you to watch him. Don't talk to him, just watch him. I need to determine his allegiances."

"If he uses his abilities to kill anyone, I'm doing my job and kicking his ass."

Lance eyed her for a moment then nodded. "Alright. If he attacks innocent people, you'll have no choice but to put a bullet into his head. If he's anything like Nathanial Carrington, that may prove to be difficult. Then again, he won't have full control over his abilities yet. That makes him vulnerable."

"What was this other guy like?"

"Old. He aged. But slowly. He used electricity to keep his body together. A gunshot to the hand, for example, could be healed rapidly because he could accelerate the cells in his body using electricity. A headshot would be fatal. His power kept his body from failing despite his advanced age."

"On a scale of one-to-ten, how dangerous is this guy Nathanial if provoked?"

"He was a complete anomaly. Everyone respected him but nobody knew anything about him. He was relatively unknown until he showed up out of nowhere and took a political stance in the Esoteric Community in 1908. Months later, the factions fell into a massive civil war. They chose a battleground that felt comfortably distant from mundane human beings - Tunguska in Siberia. The summer of 1908 became a battlefield. Nathanial and Karla survived somehow. Less than a handful of people survived with them."

"I've been watching your little team just like you've asked me to do. And I've noticed the team is full of people with a lot of power and a lot of flaws."

"So, you don't approve of the team I'm putting together to stop Falcon?"

"No, not really. Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut, get some money together and retire in Mexico."

"Mexico is a Catholic third world country."

"Yeah, exactly. My money will go a lot further there."

"Third world religious countries are historically violent, crime ridden and in abject poverty. Drug cartels are too powerful and the citizens do nothing but pray about it. You really wish to trade one mess for another mess?"

"I mean...I just..."

"Samantha, you can help me make things better. And you're an investigator. We need to investigate and stop the supernatural genocide."

Samantha sighed with a frown. "Fine. What's the plan?"

"Krys Monroe has been abusing her power. Her ability to sense supernatural beings has allowed Aris Falcon and his allies to locate, study and ultimately kill over a hundred thousand supernatural people. I believe the key to this is Reno Nevada and Sinopa Crevan."

"How is Nevada play into this?"

"He's as big of an anomaly as Nathanial Carrington was. I surmise that Nathan somehow gave his ability to Reno Nevada at some point before death. That would account for how Nevada could have fooled Krys Monroe's ability to sense supernaturals."

"How the hell can someone give their power away?"

"Theoretical technology to artificially create an ability. Carrington could have somehow given it to Nevada. Then, after taking a while to manifest, the inspector's abilities begin to emerge. Or perhaps they were jumpstarted by lightning. My inside source says Reno was struck by a bolt and left for dead."

"So you're suggesting that this Nathanial Carrington guy had theoretical world-changing technology back in the early 1900s?"

"Hmm, it does seem far fetched."

"Yeah, especially for a mathematician. Okay, so how do I find this guy, Nevada?"

"I have new intelligence. Topaz Parker has left the pack. I'm not yet sure why. Karla has been treating me as though she doesn't trust me as of late. She says anyone who has been alive as long as I have been could be responsible for this 'whole New World Order business that Falcon is hell bent on creating.' But she did tell me that she let Topaz leave the pack recently She's looking for Mr. Nevada. My other agent lost track of Parker once she made landfall."

"When?"

"Just a few days ago. Falcon wants the Parkers for some reason. He's been obsessing over them. So with Topaz in the open, Falcon will undoubtedly send the mercenaries after her. Nevada has been chasing after the mercenaries, and Topaz is looking for Nevada. This means you only need to go back to Pages Lost, watch and wait. When Falcon's mercenaries make a play to track down Nevada, you follow them. That will lead you to Parker as well. Then you get me as much information as you can."

"Understood." Samantha eyed Lance for a moment then headed for the door. "Thanks for giving me purpose again. But try and find a way to have my back, please. If those guys in black gear gang up on me...or a rapist catches me off guard in an alley, I need to know you've got my back. I was lucky in the past. But luck runs out; skill doesn't. And I need to know I have a skilled team backing me."

"Perhaps we can consider creating a squad like you had in USPRI. We'll talk about it in the future."

Samantha nodded with a weak smile. "Thanks. Sooner the better, y'know." She stepped through the door and shut it behind herself. "Now to find Raiden before the goddamn mortal-freaking-combat starts." She rubbed her face, pushed her bangs back from her forehead and headed down the steps to the street.

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Next chapter: https://www.sofurry.com/view/619158