Chapter 2: Counterparts

Lyonel doesn’t usually have this many people in his office, but today was an exception. Four of us meant more

arguments and usually Lyonel tries to avoid strong minded individuals. As the voices escalated around the room, I leaned back in Lyonel’s gorgeous padded black leather chair.  I situated myself, the smell of the newly purchased leather filling the air, as I crossed my legs and dug in the atmosphere. My coworkers and Lyonel would be at it for days, bickering over who knows what and I daresay that I slightly enjoyed it. Plus, most of the fuss revolved around me.

The big, buff, African American father-figure of mine, a.k.a Lyonel, was yelling at Christine, the seductive

blonde bitch. This time it was regarding a case we’ve been at for years. As if right on time, the slender and dimwitted Jackson spouted off random comments that didn’t have anything to do with the topic of conversation. What can I say…typical Wednesday afternoon at the office banter. Mondays were casual, Tuesdays boring as ****, Thursdays babes, and Fridays non-stop drinking. If I could create the perfect world, I’d only see a Thursday and Friday, that way days like Monday through Wednesday would never exist. Nevertheless, I couldn’t complain much about my job. I mean, without Lyonel and the gang, I wouldn’t have a way to kill time and they wouldn’t have an assassin.

“Look,” Lyonel snapped, leaning back on his throne. “Craven has been on our list for too long. He’s our key to the

Coetus! If we get their arms dealer, we can stop one of their major operations. So what makes you think going after Weeds is a better option, when this Mammon Bay playboy is within our grasp?!.”

“Weeds is one of Craven’s most influential buyers. If we take him out first, Craven loses a key piece of his

operation,” Christine blurted.

“But what about the Renue’ Case? You know the super human cell creation? Seems to me that this is of more concern than hunting down the Coetus,” Jackson pressed, allowing Christine and Lyonel to eye him angrily.

“Jackson I’m tired of the bull shit that you vomit every two seconds. We are trying to give Orion the most

productive case. We are NIA, the goddamn National Intervention Agency, and we…”

“Dispose of those who disrupt the natural balance of the laws of the land, the silent knight for those who can’t

speak, and the justice who doesn’t care about getting their hands dirty,” Jackson yawned, rolling his eyes.

“Funny how you can cite our creed yet tell us to spend our time and effort hunting down some science experiment,” Lyonel roared.

Christine shook her head at Jackson, “For once I actually agree with Lyonel. Anyway, getting back on subject, Orion has already disposed of Joseph O’Riley. He was known as the chief producer of Craven’s heroin unit. We have recovered some information on deals, acquired various numbers, but still have no whereabouts on Craven. What do you suppose we do?”

Jackson shrugged, looking back at me, “Send in our silent knight.”

My eyes directed towards Jackson, blazing with excitement as Lyonel and Christine turned my way as well.

“Well Orion, what is your take on the issue?” Lyonel asked.

I smirked, reaching into my coat pocket, pulling out a silver device that looked like a sleek credit

card.

“Wat on earth is that?” Jackson questioned.

“Just watch,” I stated, touching the green power key as a map of Mammon Bay appeared in a flash of blue light. Yellow dots pinpointed every business and residence in the area, but I pinched the globe together narrowing it down to the downtown area.  Why? Because this was the place that most came out to play: friendly or foe. There were also red dots highlighting points of interest, which illuminated current gatherings within the city limits.

I began to turn the globe, slowly examining each red area, as I stopped at a mass gathering near the center of downtown Mammon. The building turned out to be the Hilton Palace, one of the largest hotel and resort in the country. Here a crowd of 40,000 gathered.

My eyes lifted from the screen to meet my colleagues, “Seems rather odd that thousands of people swarm to the

Hilton today when there are no records of any convention or big shot corporate gathering scheduled.”

“Actually,” Jackson shot, quickly typing on his Surface, “there was a corporate meeting with Tim Yale today at

1pm.”

“Sure,” I say, amused at Jackson’s comment as I pointed to the Hilton Palace, opening a screen displaying the attendees. I typed in Tim Yale’s name, allowing the list of faces to flash in front of my colleagues until “name not recognized” appeared on the globe. “Tim Yale is a well-known associate of Craven who does not live within the United States; he is currently living out his life in France. Actually, I checked up on him earlier today and he and his children were seen going on a trip to Rome. Thus, there is no way that Tim Yale is holding a party of this grandeur in Mammon Bay.”

“So, what are you getting at?” Lyonel said, placing a hand under his chin. “Do you believe this is one of Craven’s

affairs?”

"Yes, Craven is using this outlet to auction off new technological advancements from tooth brushes to human

counterparts. The attendees are likely to go up to 50,000 in a matter of minutes.”

Lyonel, Christine, and Jackson looked at the building skeptically as they saw a rise in the population to the amount I had previously quoted. Christine had to smirk as Jackson scowled.

“I hate it when he does that,” Jackson huffed.

I paced myself over towards Lyonel, “I calculate up to…say 170,000 as the day drags on. So, it’s up to you, my

friend, on what our next course of action is going to be.”

Lyonel smirked, tilting his head, “Now Orion, you don’t need me to tell you that, son.”

I nodded, dimming down the map as I placed the device back in my pocket. “Looks like I’ll see what I can find out

in the dragon’s den.”

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