"If you are brought here by the white paper I left in the late officer's house, the superior officer, and the one who knew where the key was, then this letter is also for you.
I am currently hiding from a certain man who had been following me these past few weeks, he is bulky, muscly and I assume strong, though I haven't seen his face which is hindered with a face mask, he looked handsome and respectable by his well-combed hair and manly perfume which seemed like from what I have reported before, the very famous Creed Aventus, that I could smell even from afar that is why I know he was following me. The weight of what these two dead people whose souls were still not at peace, had passed to me is indeed burdensome that it overwhelmed me and had to go away from my family so they wouldn't put in the same danger as I am in.
Sir, I am begging you, every day, I always think if I could last a week, this man who has been following me anywhere has nearly about to be in my house, if mot when I had to change clothes and took the other longer route to my house, I would have been dead by now. If you can speed up a little in your game, please do so, this man is the mastermind, the man behind all of these crimes, the crimes happening in the whole country is affiliated with him.
Nothing is scarier than a man full of vengeance.
I am the journalist under journalist Corillo, he called me the same day before he died at night and told me to get the reports he prepared the next day at noon, but I was so shocked when I came there and saw him awfully murdered. I didn't think of the report until the day his room was cleaned, I came there again to look for it, but found someone else rummaging his things and went out empty-handed,
I called him out, yelling that he was a thief, yet he ran fast, but by his familiar built and perfume, I knew it was the guy who was following me. He is handsome, he has a tattoo on his nape that I failed to recognize, sterile gloves on his hands, his eyes are sharp so the conclusion of a scary man.
When I went in, the things were still neat though not as neat as before as some papers were messily compressed, and some were out of place. I looked for the report that he was asking me to get, for at least as a commemoration for his last work before he died. I wasn't thinking of anything big, like a petty report of a burglar in a bus, and that kind of news was what I found on the table, obviously checked out by the man earlier by its misplacement of pages.
However, I didn't know what had gotten into me that I searched more in his room, checking every nook and corner, I found an odd picture frame on the wall, for how many times I have visited his room, it was my first time seeing it there and when I looked at its back, it had an envelope there, containing the biggest news I have only heard that day, and it was then the weight of pressure it possessed had troubled me.
The man I saw at the house, the masked man following me, is also after these documents in my occupancy, The documents comprising his identity, his activities, crimes that he controlled, and every police officers, government officials, next target, and his vengeance in Themis Agency.
872 Burington Street, Asbel Ridge.
If you could please come here as soon as you read this, please do so. I'll try to wait for you as much as I can.
P.S. If you could see, I placed a green thread on the ground, if it was broken, then someone had come in before you.
-Journalist Anthony Abdul"
The two men standing in the tree's shade looked at each other with obvious panic, surprised, fear, and confusion right after they read the journalist's letter. Warren had this certain huge confused expression that he couldn't think why this man, the man behind every crime happening had something against his agency, that in his too much anger, he involved everyone, controlled people, that Warren wondered how many years he had plotted this that it was so perfect.
It was not new that there were ex-convicts who held grudges towards them, but because of their too much confidentiality, they did not know where their base was, who they were, and how they would go against
He also needed to know if the simultaneous tasks sent to the agency were all connected and if those were all made by this man because so far, Laura's task and his task were very interconnected. Most of all, they needed to know this masked man.
Either way, he needed to report this to Dale, let her trace the sender's information, and see what she could do to this before the man could even get another step forward until they would be left behind and eventually lost.
"Is this also the mam you've seen at the rooftop in a bank robbery?" Senior Merit asked, folding back the paper and placed it back inside as he took the key to the journalist's house.
"Yes, though only his body was the one I saw, now that he mentioned it, his smell was really there when I came up." He stated, unfolding again the paper as he took a picture of it and sent it straight to Dale for her to examine. He just hoped, Sean would be with him since that man was the one expert in this.
"We need to move fast, we don't know when this man has written this. He might be in danger at this time." He said, he raised and looked at the key, Warren looking at the silver key as well. "This isn't the door for the journalist, it doesn't fit there obviously, this is larger, I assume this is of his house."
Warren nodded and darted his gaze on the ground, remembering what the letter in P.S had said. Unfortunately, there was no thread that they came into when they walked near the tree, yet, the two small pieces of timber that were buried on the ground on each end were there, with a broken green thread that he was talking about.
"Someone might be here before us, sir. Fortunately, the journalist is smart enough to hide this on a tree and put it into a box with a password. We really should hurry now."
"We seriously should." He replied, turning his heel to walk to the car and Warren was following him behind.
They were about to reach where their car was when a loud sound of a motorcycle echoed in the whole neighborhood. Warren looked at them with a creased forehead because who would drive a motorcycle that noisy in this peaceful area? Yet, his eyes widened upon the sight of two people wearing a black mask, only their eyes and mouth were seen, but one of them has a g*n pointing at them.
"Duck!" He yelled, pulling the senior with him as they ducked and hide on the side of their car as the man started shooting them with bullets, resulting in the car breaking its window and glasses, and even the tires.
Warren took out his g*n and shoot back, but to no avail, they had already escaped because of their fast driving. The two stood up from ducking, Senior Merit immediately moved to the side and checked his car, and he started mourning.
"My car!" He cried out, looking at his wrecked, full of holes car with broken windows and flat tires. "My car!"
Warren sighed, looking at the way where the two unknown men had taken on their escape. Clearly, they did not mean to kill them, but only to stop them from moving, Warren saw the man had his g*n pointed down like he was mainly targetting the car's tires.
Warren felt something within him like his heart suddenly beat faster than it should, he held his chest, his hand suddenly felt clammy, he tried breathing, closed his eyes to focus on just breathing, he needed to calm down. It was bearable, he knew what this meant, he was thinking too much, he suddenly thought of Senior Merit lying down lifeless, and it brought anxiety to him, the thought of his task going dangerous as time went by was scaring him, not for himself, but the people around him.
Suddenly, he felt his mouth forcefully open, and a sweet, a little salty thing was shoved in his mouth. Is it a finger? No, it was Warren's gummy bears that the senior had taken out from the back of his jeans.
"Warren! Are you okay!?" He asked worriedly, holding both of his shoulders as he tried to stable his stance.
Warren tried to talk, but his mouth was still full so it came incoherent. The senior shoved the whole pack in his mouth, but overall, it was effective, he had gained back his consciousness. What would he expect in his source of strength?
"I'm fine, sir." Warren breathed out, "This is a rare occurrence, sir. Triggered by the loud gunshots." He lied. The senior scoffed and looked at him teasingly, he wiped his sweat that made Warren warmed inside.
"That's fine. There are really people like that. Anyway, I hope you can still walk?" He said, frowning as he looked again at his poor car.
Warren shook his head, he fished out his phone, "I'll call my friend to fetch us, sir."
Warren walked a little farther from him, dialing his student's number. While he was talking and Senior Merit was checking his car again, his phone rang, startling him a little.
He looked at the caller and found it as their compatriot's number, he creased his forehead as he answered. "Hello, Mr. Tyler?"
"Senior Merit! Your house is burning!"