The night of 04-04-20XX, a shadowy figure walks rapidly down the street several blocks away from the police station. The figure makes his way to a sleek black parked car. The back-passenger window rolls down halfway as the hidden passenger asks, “Well?”
“Here’s all the copied reports and evidence on file,” the rugged man said while handing over the documents found in the Detective’s office.
The figure inside the car flips open the folder and reviews the documents. “Is that all of them?” The figure inside asked.
“Yes, sir,” The rugged man promptly replied.
“Is it an open and shut case?” The figure asked.
“It will be, sir, by tomorrow morning,” the rugged man coldly snickered.
“Thank you for your hard work, John. Payment is on its way,” the seated figure replied.
John pulls out his phone and checks that the payment was safely deposited into his Swiss bank account. A small ding confirms the payment went through. “It’s always a pleasure, sir. Have a good evening,” John warmly said, before disappearing into the shadows.
The passenger window rolls up and on cue, the car moves forward. The figure inside the car is an elegantly dressed man with square-framed spectacles. The spectacled man swiftly reads through the documents, before calling a number.
A crisp voice answered, “Is it a warning or threat?”
“No, sir. I initially thought it was a staged crime, but all signs point to it being merely a home invasion,” the spectacled man nonchalantly replied.
“No mistakes, Harold. We cannot afford to have the Project called into question again. It’s been five years and the project has since regained traction. All that is needed is an official seal and the project will commence,” The voice answered.
“Understood. Shall I have Senator Ricks lend a hand just in case?” Harold, the spectacled man asked.
“No. You know very well what he is busy with Harold,” the voice firmly reprimanded.
Harold is silent, before hesitantly asking, “Sir, I understand it is not my position to say, but I have my concerns regarding Senator Ricks and the asset.”
The silence is deafening, but seeing the call has yet to be terminated, Harold boldly continues, “Alexandrina, is the sole surviving asset of the Project. Perhaps, it would be in the project’s’ best interest to have the asset present for additional testing and further study. The assets survival is the only fundamental truth that could enlighten the new project’s team on old problems and possible alternatives to correct any additional issues that may arise.”
Harold nervously tries to slow down his heartbeat as the silence grows. After several minutes, the long lapse of silence grows and causes Harold to nervously adjust his glasses. “No, Harold. Though Alexandrina is of incredible value, the sole surviving subject possesses an unimaginable high-risk factor to the project. Unless there are no alternatives and only then, as a last resort will the assets return to the project even be even considered. The asset is to remain firmly secured within the facility,” the voice strictly stated and with a firm click, the call drops.
Harold frowns as he taps his finger against the folder. His informant at the secure facility had stated that there was a prisoner escape. However, his informant had not been able to confirm the identities. More so, three prisoners were confirmed deceased, but the identities were not disclosed. What bothered him was that after the escape the security had been doubled. But more importantly, block C was thrice as heavily guarded. There were only three prisoners housed in that section and only one of them was of enough value to have such a regiment of guards be issued. The asset, Alexandrina.
Harold’s lips curl into a sneer. Either way, Senator Ricks had hidden that rather important detail from the board. However, he would ensure that such valuable information is used to his benefit. A cruel smile appears on Harold’s face as he messages his informant. It was time to lay out a trap to catch a wily fox.
A sweet female voice answers, “Yes, Harold?”
“Giselle, how soon can you be available? I have a profitable task for you,” Harold coolly proposed.
The woman’s laugh twinkles pleasantly to the ear. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’s the catch?” Giselle sweetly murmured.
“No catch, other than it needs to be kept under wraps,” Harold honestly stated.
“So, it’s like that, huh. Alright, what’s the job?” Giselle curiously asked.
“I need you to find something for me. But before then, how do you feel about orange?” Harold impulsively inquired.
“Orange? It’s a hideous color, why?” Giselle suspiciously asked.
“I’ll send you the details,” Harold swiftly replied and terminated the call without answering the rather pointed question of Giselle to Giselle’s vast irritation.
Harold adjusts his glasses as habitual and glances at the driver. “To the airport,” Harold curtly said as the driver adjusts the route accordingly. The sleek car smoothly switches lanes and roars down the street towards the airport. Unnoticed and unseen.