Case: 1: A Dystopian Mystery (Annalise Storm Chronicles Book 2)

by May Freighter

  “It’s not about Devlin, either,” Annalise interjected. “And he’s not as bad as you think.”

  “Did you already let your guard down around him?” Jamen had an edge of disapproval in his tone. “That’s not a good idea, Storm. He’s not a good guy, whatever you may believe.”

  “I can’t condemn him for the horrors his previous employer committed. For all I know, he could be the guy who was out in the field, getting statements from people or wrote long reports,” she countered.

  Calla rolled her eyes. “You don’t believe that. We all know that he is too smart and resourceful to be a simple nobody at Falcon. So, whatever he’s up to in our department, it can’t be good.”

  17

  Meeting Mr X

  Annalise pondered Calla’s words for a long minute. She had accepted that Devlin came to the HPD to try and convince her to marry him, but was that it? Did he have more than one ulterior motive?

  “You can’t trust him,” Jamen continued where Calla left off.

  Their drinks finally arrived, and Annalise was glad for the distraction from the intervention they were having. She had more important matters to worry about than Devlin and his presence in the DPD. Taking a swig from her opened bottle of beer, she blew out a heavy breath.

  “Last time we were here,” Annalise stroked the glass of her bottle nervously, “you told me about Calla and Falcon.”

  Calla elbowed him in the side. “You did that behind my back?”

  “She needed to know how dangerous Falcon is. It’s not like the others in our department don’t know,” he replied.

  His partner got out of her seat and took her beer with her. “I’m going for a walk. Call me when you’re done here, J.”

  Jamen gave his half-sister a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But, you’re right. I’ll see you later.”

  When Calla strode out of the bar, Jamen returned his attention to Annalise, and she felt scrutinised under his stare like a single cell under the microscope.

  “Aren’t you going to say what you want to?”

  “What’s bothering you, Storm? Calla sensed your unease and left, so you’re free to talk now.”

  Her gaze darted around the bar. They were the only patrons here. Tara had retreated to the kitchen and was in deep conversation with another woman. Annalise swallowed a mouthful of her beer and said, “I don’t know what to do. I—” She paused. How on earth did she get here in the first place? To be sitting across from Jamen and spilling her soul to him wasn’t something she thought would happen in her lifetime. “I kissed Mavel and it got recorded by someone…”

  Jamen didn’t seem affected by her words. On the contrary, he reclined in his seat, completely relaxed.

  “You’re not surprised?” she asked, nibbling on her lower lip.

  “Not really. You two had a lot of sexual tension going on between you when you worked together. But what’s the actual problem?”

  She wrapped her hands around her bottle. “I got a copy of the recording sent to me. They want to meet this evening.”

  “Are you going? Have they asked for anything else?”

  “No. There was no mention of money or threats to my father. This was directed at me, and I don’t know why.”

  “I don’t like this, Storm. Mavel hasn’t been on the run for long. This could be a trap to lure him out.”

  She couldn’t discount that possibility, not when Falcon was still after him. “I can’t avoid the meeting. If that video gets out, my career, my family’s reputation, and everything I have will be lost.”

  “Yes. It will be hard for you to get around if you’re exiled to the Green District.” He patted her quivering hands. They had become cold, whether from the bottle she was clinging to for emotional support or from the nerves that ate away at her sense of calm. “We won’t let anything bad happen. Calla and I will go as your backup, in case something happens.”

  “You don’t have to do this. What if they come after you next?”

  “Don’t worry about me. But, we may need help from Rios on this. He’s a great shot.”

  Her mouth went dry. “You think we may end up in a firefight?”

  “Whatever is going to happen at this meeting, it’s best to come prepared for the worst-case scenario, don’t you think?”

  She nodded and finished the rest of her drink.

  At 6 p.m., everyone gathered at Jamen’s apartment in Silver. It was only a five-minute drive to the Bronze District’s gate from here, and Annalise had an hour before the meeting with her blackmailer was going to take place. She hugged her middle, looking out of the second-storey window at the park below. The sun had set and dark clouds were gathering over the city with the promise of rain. “Anything?”

  Rios, sitting at the table with his legs propped up on it, said, “AID did a scan of the area we are headed to. There are no police cameras there. The ones that were installed had been stolen by kids or disconnected on purpose. I doubt City Hall will bother allocating funds to reinstall them anytime soon.”

  Resting her back against the wall, Des folded her arms. She wore a faux leather jacket and grey skinny jeans that were tucked into her military boots. “This whole thing smells fishy to me.” She smirked at Annalise. “And I can’t believe you got into Mavel’s pants before me.”

  Rios snorted. “You didn’t stand a chance, Des. He was head over heels in love with her. Poor beast.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Des replied.

  Jamen and Calla came out of the storage room with a black duffel bag in each hand. They dumped them on the dining table, and Jamen knocked Rios’ legs off.

  “This is where I eat,” Jamen grumbled.

  Rios shrugged. “I have done much worse things on my table.”

  “Way too much information, Rios!” Annalise said, raising her hands. “We don’t have time to listen to your sexcapades.”

  “Who said I was having sex on the table?” Rios asked, looking innocently at her.

  Jamen cleared his throat and unzipped the bags one by one. He pulled out everything from listening devices to sniper rifles, giving one of the weapons to Rios.

  As if it was the best birthday present ever, Rios grinned from ear to ear. “I have only seen old pictures of these! This gas-operated, semi-automatic Barrett XM500 is a beauty. Where did you dig this up? And, don’t tell me this fires actual rounds instead of tranquillisers? I haven’t fired a proper bullet since my father and I went hunting in the mountains when I was thirteen.”

  “I think Rios is in love,” Des commented with a laugh.

  He rubbed his face against the barrel of the sniper rifle. “Can I keep her?”

  “No, you can’t. This is to be used in case things go south, understood? You and Des need to find a good vantage point and keep an eye on things from above while Storm, Calla, and I go in to meet whoever is after her,” Jamen explained.

  Annalise walked closer to the table to take in the sight of the full arsenal. He even managed to find some AK-47s. “You didn’t tell us where you got these antiques from. I thought the searches had these weapons destroyed over a hundred years ago.”

  “The less you know the better,” Calla responded.

  Jamen kissed his half-sister on the cheek. “It’s alright for them to know.” He met the curious stares of his co-workers around the table. Even Des shifted closer to listen in. “I purchased these in the Black District through an old acquaintance of mine. Getting Calla out of the Falcon facility wasn’t easy. Those bastards couldn’t report anything that happened without explaining what they were doing there. I took enough recordings and photos of the atrocities in their labs as evidence to keep them from killing me and my sister thereafter.”

  Rios stopped stroking his new toy and placed the rifle on the table. “I never had the pleasure of getting as close to Falcon as you and Storm did.”

  Annalise managed a tight-lipped smile. “You don’t know how lucky you are.”

  Des moved to stand behind
Rios’ chair. “Why isn’t Devlin here to help? Isn’t he Annalise’s partner?”

  “He is but—”

  Jamen interrupted Annalise. “He’s not one of us. As ex-Falcon, he is dangerous to keep around.”

  Rios waved his hands in the air. “Alright, we get it that you hate his guts. Let’s get back to business, shall we?”

  Annalise helped Jamen and Calla move the bags off the table. Once they were done, she projected a map AID had stored on the police servers for the area of the Bronze District they were heading to.

  “According to the note in the video I received, the meeting will take place in this warehouse.” Annalise pointed to a rectangular representation of the building. “The information we have about the location is that it’s been abandoned for the past decade.”

  Rios stood and indicated at the office building across from it. “Is that place in use? If not, I’ll set up there.”

  Annalise quickly checked the records for the building across the road from the warehouse. “It’s…in use on the weekdays. There is currently an active lease on the property.”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t go in using my badge while carrying a prohibited sniper rifle.”

  Des put her hands on her hips. “I guess I’ll be the distraction while you go in through the backdoor. There is little surveillance in Bronze. The businesses are struggling to pay rent, let alone have credits to spend on cameras. So, once I’m done, and you’re on the roof, I’ll circle back around and keep an eye on the street while the others go in for the meeting.”

  Jamen nodded. “Sounds good to me.” He handed everyone an earpiece. “They’re tuned to the same frequency.”

  “Are you sure you’re not a time traveller?” Annalise asked with a quirked brow. “These things were discontinued a long time ago. Our wrist comms are now the most secure communication channels with an AI built in to monitor for any intrusions.”

  “I don’t like using the department’s resources for side missions,” Jamen explained. “And trusting everything to a single AI that we didn’t build…”

  “ETek signed a lot of legal documents when their artificial intelligence system and body scanners were installed around the city. If anything goes wrong with their AI, they are liable,” Rios said.

  “Yes, but ETek monitor themselves. It’s like letting a killer into a room full of people and expecting him to behave.”

  Annalise grimaced. “You have stranger analogies than Rios.”

  Jamen rolled his shoulders and picked up a pistol from the bag next to his boot. “Leave your police credentials and everything else that ties us to the DPD here. We can’t risk this coming back to bite us in the ass later.”

  Calla let out a dry laugh. “As long as I get to make someone bleed, I’m happy.”

  Catching Calla’s shoulder, Jamen said in a stern voice, “We go in without encouraging confrontation. Understood?”

  “Yes…”

  “Good. Let’s move,” Jamen ordered.

  Rain droplets battered against the windscreen as Jamen parked his car two dozen metres away from their destination. The silence in the vehicle was palpable. Everyone’s attention was on their surroundings, checking to see if anything was amiss. Annalise spotted three cars parked down the road. One of them, a black sports car with two men in trench coats guarding it, looked out of place due to the amount of credits it would cost the owner. No one in Bronze could afford anything like that, not to mention the bodyguards that came with it.

  She reached for the door handle to get out of the car when Jamen grasped her arm. His intense eyes told her how serious the situation was. This could be nothing, or it could be a life-changing event.

  “We have your back, Storm. Try not to do anything rash,” he spoke in a low drone. Then, seemingly as an afterthought, he added, “Use the gun only if things go bad.”

  “I know. I won’t go in guns blazing.” Shaking his hand off, she climbed out of the car, followed by Calla and Jamen. They trailed behind her, vigilant and alert.

  Annalise contemplated her reaction time. She had never shot to kill. In the Academy, they always used non-lethal bullets on practice targets. The use of metal bullets in active duty had been banned to help improve the relationship between the modded and the purebloods. Thirty years ago, the city got too close to an uprising. As a way to mediate the rising tensions, her father’s predecessor of the Anti-Modded Party and the previous head of the Pro-Modded Party decided to reduce the amount of modded kills by changing some of the procedures at the DPD. Their idea worked brilliantly and had kept the peace in the city since. She could only hope that it would last. If Jamen was able to procure weapons of old with such ease, others with the right contacts would be able to do the same.

  She stopped at the warehouse’s front entrance. The door to it was held open by one of the men who guarded the car.

  “He is waiting for you inside, Ms Storm,” the man with a buzz cut and sharp, judging eyes told her. His body language informed her that he was ready to fight at a moment’s notice and without hesitation. “Your companions will have to wait here with us.”

  Jamen snorted behind her. “It’s not going to happen. She’s not going in there alone.”

  Annalise didn’t want to leave her safety net behind. She could be walking into another Falcon facility and might not be able to get out alive. “They’re coming with me, or I’m leaving. You choose.”

  The man typed something on his wrist comms and, a minute later, inclined his head. “The boss said you may all go in if you surrender your weapons to me. Remember, Ms Storm, you have the most to lose here.”

  Peering over her shoulder, she locked gazes with Jamen who begrudgingly gave a slow nod. They handed over their pistols to the man at the door. The second hers was taken from her, she felt naked and exposed as if it was her clothes she was giving up instead of a gun.

  She squared her shoulders and brushed her wet hair out of her eyes. “Are we done here?”

  The guard motioned for her to go in.

  Annalise entered the three-storey warehouse. She heard Rios’ voice coming out of her earpiece. “I’m ready and on standby. There are over a dozen guards on the first floor and six on the ground floor. If this goes badly, you will have a lot of trouble getting out without any weapons.”

  She clenched her jaw and followed the dimly lit path ahead. Evenly spaced out concrete pillars guided them to a group of three men. They wore serious looks on their faces. She doubted they would laugh if she told them a funny joke. Her nerves were beginning to surface, too. So, she hid her hands in her pockets upon her approach. She didn’t want them noticing her hands shaking.

  “What now?” she asked one of the men.

  He opened the door. “Don’t cause any trouble.”

  Grunting her agreement, she went inside. In a grand unfurnished room, she saw a simple oak desk with a man sitting behind it. If she wasn’t entering the den of a blackmailer, she would have thought he was gorgeous. Everything from his sharp cheekbones to his perfect facial and body proportions screamed alabaster to her. But, as she got closer, she noticed the lack of ethereal aura around him that most alabasters possessed. He was beautiful but not to an excess. And there was darkness in his black eyes that were framed by dark brows and carefully styled short ebony hair.

  He smiled when their eyes met, and waved for her to come closer. She didn’t recognise him. Yet, he had to be behind the blackmail as he was the only person on the entire street who found this situation amusing.

  18

  A Blood Contract

  It didn’t take long before Jamen started growling in anger behind Annalise. She had to turn to see his face changing shades to deep red. There was murder in his eyes, and she unconsciously took a step back from him.

  “You!” Jamen spat out and glowered at the man who appeared to be in his early thirties.

  “It is nice to see you again, Detective Auris. It has been a while.” The man spied Calla and smirked. “
I see you haven’t stopped caring for your broken flare.”

  Jamen started storming over to the desk, but Annalise caught his arm as two men with weapons came out from behind the concrete pillars.

  “Don’t do anything hasty, Detective,” the man said.

  “Who are you?” Annalise asked to dissolve some of the testosterone that was charging the room.

  The man stood, adjusting the sleeves of his expensive bespoke navy suit. She caught sight of a golden ring he wore on his middle finger with the Falcon insignia on it. Her stomach jolted unpleasantly. They were behind this all along.

  “You can call me Mr X, and I have come here with a proposition for you, Ms Storm,” he replied in a velvety voice.

  Annalise shuddered. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Calla was also holding on to her brother. She must have been using her control on him because he had calmed down enough to straighten his posture and rid his face of emotion.

  “Tick tock, Annalise,” Mr X said.

  “What do you want from me?” She glared at him. Her body was shaking with anger. If she could, she would have knocked him off his high horse and drowned him in the marsh outside the city.

  A pleased smile worked its way across his handsome face. She was starting to hate how good he looked. “The deal is simple. You agree to marry a man you know as Devlin Madoc and stretch the engagement date for the next three months. When the time is up, all you have to do is break the engagement and be free.”

  Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What do you get out of this?”

  “That is none of your business. What do you say? It is a simple, even charitable proposal. This video”—he lifted a data chip for effect—“could ruin your life and that of your family.”

  She couldn’t understand why this stranger was after Devlin. Her mind travelled back to the time her partner mentioned his succession race. He had to marry her to become the next in line to take over his mother’s company. But, what did that have to do with Falcon? And, more importantly, what did Falcon get out of Devlin losing? Were they supporting his brother? Whatever the case, if she allowed them to get what they desired, more bad things would continue to happen in Divinity. There was no doubt of that in her mind.