{Featured ×4}
In the heart-pounding world of 2082, where laws bend and twist like shadows in the night, seventeen-year-old Bryan Adams is thrust into a whirlwind of mystery and danger. Tormented by relentless nightmares of his father's tragic demise...
Ethan strode over to a mirror next to his cabin and examined himself from head to toe. Being self-conscious, he was the only one who enjoyed the privilege of having a whole mirror to himself. There was a deep scar surrounding his jaw, which was not completely healed and will never be. That jerk! His end is in my hands!
Being used to receiving compliments about his looks each and every day, his anger boiled in him as he scrolled through the numerous get-well-soon messages and second glances from his peer mates. Exhaling deeply, Ethan's gaze fixed on his laptop screen, anticipation building as he prepared to delve into the pending assignments awaiting his attention. If there was something that he loved after his face, then that was his job.
His laptop screen popped up with a missing case file, but his eyes noticed the sender's address, and he gaped with his mouth open. Cuerpo Nacional de Policía? He was used to receiving cases within the premises of New York, but an international one was like a dream come true, as it was mainly handled by senior officers like Arnold and his dad, Thoms.
He took in the contents of the case and knit his eyebrows together. Hmm...this chick's hot. Why does she have to end up behind bars at such a tender age? And who's this dude?
CRIMINAL PROFILE
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NAME: ELENA CARTER PLACE OF BIRTH: MANHATTAN, NEWYORK AGE: 29 MARITAL STATUS: SINGLE CASE REGISTERED: COUNTERFEIT PASSPORTS, TRESPASSING INTO PRIVATE PROPERTY, POSESSION OF NON-LICENSED WEAPONS IDENTIFICATION OF THE MALE PERSONA: UNKNOWN LAST SEEN: BARCELONA
He closed the laptop screen and stretched himself. Atlast, a chance to prove that jerk who's the real detective here! It was not the case that exhilarated him but the place in which it was going to carry him. Barcelona! Someone's going to lose his spotlight very soon!
"Ethan? Arnold's looking for ya." Mary Fellings, personal assistant of Arnold, smiled from an opening through the cabin door. She got in and couldn't help but stare across the lad in front of her. Her eyes took in the depth of the bruise across his jaw, and she heaved a sigh. Looks don't last forever.
"Roger that, Mary!" As he was about to leave, she caught hold of his hand and looked deep into his eyes. "Do not end up in trouble, Ethan! A chance, once lost, is lost forever. Use it wisely and not to settle age-old disputes. Understood?"
Ethan gave a quick nod and scurried over to Arnold's cabin. If there was someone he listened to, then that was Mary Fellings. She was more like a second mother to him, who mentored him from a tender age right when he joined the force.
He pushed open the door of Arnold's cabin, and the same old welcoming smell of tobacco boosted the exhilarating sense inside him. Arnold was seated at his desk, but that old, vigorous energy in him had dried up like a spring in summer. He looked up at Ethan and motioned to the seat in front of him.
"I believe you might have gone through the case study. I would have done it myself, but the matter of HydraHepA is of grave concern, and there must be somebody here in order to make sure that this devastating news doesn't end up in the breaking news tomorrow."
Ethan nodded and poured himself a cup of coffee from a small coffee table beside him. He enjoyed the maximum privilege and freedom in the force, from being the son of a reputed officer to having a 100 percent success rate in all the cases that he has come across. Until the devil walked in!
Arnold seemed to read the room and didn't know how to make out the next sentence. "Forward the case to Bryan too. Since he's in Barcelona, he might be able to help if, of course, he encounters this lady somewhere."
Ethan chocked upon his own saliva, which made him cough hard, and he spit out the coffee that he had just sipped. "What?! There's no fucking way I'm asking a punk to help solve a case!" He stood up and pounded his fist hard on the table, but unlike what he had seen in movies, his hand hurt. Ouch! That hurt!
Arnold didn't seem to care, as he too had passed this phase when he was young. He looked at the boy before him with his deep set of eyes and mouthed two simple words, clear enough for him to understand that his screen time was over. "Sit down."
Ethan knew better than to protest. Going against Arnold's words was like ignoring a danger sign and falling onto a cliff to your better death. He sat back on the chair and gave a loud grunt. Help? From him? No fucking way!
"You will do as ordered and will leave for Barcelona immediately. You can leave." Arnold turned to his back and began working on some documents, clearly showing that their meeting was over. Ethan pushed back the chair hard, which screeched on the marble floor, and walked his way to the lavatory.
The familiar scent of the lavatory invoked haunting memories, his gaze tracing over the scar on his jaw, a bitter reminder of a life-altering incident. He was about to slam hard on the mirror but stopped short mid-way and thought better not to do so. He took out his mobile, opened up the TextMe app, and started searching for the account of the person whom he barely wanted to speak to.
There he is! He scrolled through the profile and burst into a fit of laughter, which echoed throughout the huge lavatory. 17 followers? Such a pig! He opened the messaging area and forwarded the details, keeping them as minimal as possible. Smirking to himself, he lit up a cigar and blew into the sedentary atmosphere.
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As he was about to leave, a notification popped up that sent anger rippling throughout his body. He clenched his jaw, his steps resonating anger as he exited the lavatory, a string of curses echoing in his wake. This guy is such a jerk! His death is near!
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Unbeknownst to him, his seemingly casual message could unknowingly set the wheels in motion, threading destinies closer than anticipated.
