The Havenport Files: Book One

Day 2

Time: 6:45

Sleep didn't come easy at night; the burning, sharp feeling in my side made damn sure of that, forcing me to toss and turn restless in search of that one spot where there was no pain to bug me, where everything was just right, but even when that happened, in my mind the strange encounter kept replaying like a broken record, stealing me of any tiredness I had.

The shadowed figures, the bullet cases, the echoing mix of groans and punches—more questions than answers permeate my head every time I come back to that scene.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The insistent, merciless beeping of my alarm interrupts my line of thought. Squinting my tired eyes, I lazily move my hand around until I finally find it on my nightstand.

The slap I give the button on top is enough to shut it up, finally making the irritating sound go away; unfortunately, it takes a second or two more for it to finish echoing in my head before allowing me peace.

Tired yet, my back sinks deeper into the soft spot of the mattress, and my lazy eyes lock on the ceiling, still a bit blurry from drowsiness. I allow myself to enjoy the quietness of my small house, the light cream walls calming my rushing head ever so slightly as their familiarity settles on me, telling me that 'I'm home'.

Planning to kill some time, I get a hold of my phone that I, without noticing, had left beneath my pillow before going to sleep and start to check if anyone has messaged me or if there is any interesting news; the news part comes as expected, nothing but talks about yesterday's murder, but when I open my message app, the twenty new messages come as a true surprise. All of them come from a single person, the Sergeant, so without losing a beat, I open the chat to see what happened.

The first ones are from yesterday night; he starts by saying that he got my message with a thumbs-up sticker, then he congratulates me once again for the promotion and blah blah blah, but at five in the morning he starts to talk about a meeting between the department and an unknown agency that the mayor got contacted by and that he needs me on the station at seven o'clock; looking at the top part of my phone, I see that it is already six fifty-one, so I have nine minutes to get there.

The rest of his messages are asking if I got them, to which I respond now with, 'I'll be there in ten.'.

"Ugh! Why does everything have to happen this early?" I let out a groan as I force myself out of bed, the soles of my feet meeting the overfamiliar coldness of the wooden board floor that jolts some energy into me. In a practiced move, I walk to the bathroom, my hands lingering on the metal knob of the door, preparing myself mentally to take the fastest bath I can.

After bathing myself to get rid of the dirt that still hides itself in between my hair strands, putting yesterday's clothes on the washing machine on the ground floor so they are good for tomorrow, and checking to see if there's anything that I can munch on my way to the station, keeping in mind that I need to run, I finally find myself ready to go.

I wear a comfortable pair of jeans, a more sturdy pair of boots considering I'll have to go towards the mill after finishing this meeting, and a simple shirt hidden beneath the station's hoodie I got as a prize from getting the most arrests on the year when I first joined—something not so hard considering most were drugged teens that we locked up until their parents could come to pick them up and get them home.

Out of the kitchen, I walk back up the stairs to the corridor on the second floor to check on Mel's room. I knock on the door and hear a hurried tone as she seems to have some difficulty with something.

"Come in," she says, and so I turn the knob and push it open, already stepping inside.

Before I can even move more than that, Pirate, our one-eyed golden retriever, rises from Melissa's bed to greet me, jumping to the floor and coming closer to me; once close enough, he sits down and barks once, saying his 'hi' to me.

"Mel, what did I say about keeping Pirate in your room?" I ask, shifting my gaze to her and noticing her already in uniform, struggling just to finish putting on her boots, brush her teeth, and text on her phone at the same time. "This way he will never learn to sleep alone, and that will be your responsibility to deal with."

"That's fine; besides, he's like a fluffy, warm plushie." At the words, Pirate barks, knowing that he is the center of the talk, his happiness clear by the way his tail sways rapidly.

"Well, if you say so, then okay; but I need you ready now," I start to rush her, checking on my phone every third second as the realization that I'll be at least some minutes late becomes ever so real. "The Sergeant wants us to be there in two, and I found an interesting, possible crime scene for us."

"Really?" She asks surprised, ridding her mouth of the toothbrush and rushing to her bathroom to spit it on the sink; once done, she puts her face out of the bathroom to continue. "How did you manage that? And where is it?"

"Alexandrina gave me some info that someone found a suspicious person entering the old mill at night, and when I got there I found some bullet cases, but nothing more than that." I refrain from saying anything about the shadows and fight that broke out.

"Okay, I'm ready now if you are." She says, exiting the bathroom while fixing her clothes. "Pirate, take care of the house for us, okay?"

At the order, promptly he gets to his paws and rushes down the stairs in front of us to see us go; it is a little hard to do so when he looks at us expectantly of our return already, but with a pet on his head and a lot of pampering from Mel, we close the front door and get to my car.

Arriving at the wooden door of the station, I'm quick to notice some unknown cars parked outside, in specific a yellow Ferrari 360 Modena which just happens to cost about five to ten years of my salary at least, a Harley-Davidson motorcycle with lots of travel stickers decorating its chassis, a black SUV with privacy glass windows that hide its insides, very mysteriously so, and a surely impressive Chevrolet Impala belonging to no one other than the mayor.

"I'll fetch Lee so we can go to the scene and close the area before any curious onlookers get there; we'll leave it all ready for you. Good luck with the meeting."

Melissa places a comforting hand on my shoulder, shooting me a helping smile before pushing the door open and entering beside me; she keeps on her way to the office area to get ready as I stop for a moment to breathe in some courage.

Anja sits behind the reception. Curiously, she doesn't have her phone in hand this time; instead, she has her arms crossed tightly against her chest, her legs hitting the floor rhythmically, clearly upset about something.

"Morning, Anja." I approach her table with a small smile, trying to conceal my curiosity.

"Hey, Detective," She answers with a half-smile and a tone that tells me she's either kind of down or pissed off; I can't tell exactly. "My father- the mayor asked me to hurry you to your office the moment you got through the door—something about a meeting for you to attend or whatever."

"Yeah, I'm just about to go there; but first, let me ask, did something happen?"

Her personality can be challenging at times, but even so, stopping to think now, there was not a single instance where she talked back or did things halfway when we needed her help; the times we had to have her call the technician to fix the coffee machine or to get Doctor Foster on the line for Astero so he could get a different perspective on an experiment, she always was fast to do so.

"The mayor told me to 'focus more on my work' to not embarrass him anymore and asked me to put the phone down when I was searching something for the lab guy; not even to say hi to his daughter first."

I'm sure it isn't easy to be the mayor's daughter, especially when he is such a first-category asshole; for all the encounters I had with him, he was always quick to treat me like nothing, a dust ball on his path; the memory alone makes my blood boil.

"I'll be straight with you; your help has been of a great deal recently, okay; hear it from someone who sees how you work. You helped us find an affordable technician in the city to help fix some things; you never complain when we ask you to do something, and that means a lot around here. You can pick up your phone now; if he asks anything, say, I asked you to do something for me, and let me deal with it."

"No, there's no need; when he got to your office, I finished what I had to do. But thanks; hearing that helps; you're an alright person." 'Alright?', Well, it's better than nothing, I guess, and coming from her, it must be a high praise. "Anyway, is best you go; you're late by almost fifteen minutes by now."

"Oh shit, you're right," I say, checking my phone and confirming her words; what I'll have to hear won't be little, I'm sure. "Thank you for the talk, till later."

Rushing my goodbyes, I start walking fast towards my office; for a moment I look back to Anja, seeing that at least her shoulders seem less heavy, so that's a good thing. With my hands glued to the door, I use a little too much strength to push it open and step inside; my action almost manages to hit someone who's leaning against the office's walls.

Inside, two people are waiting for me: the mayor, who sighs as he pushes the door back and closes it, and a woman, somewhat familiar by her long blonde hair and blue eyes, but exactly where I saw her before escapes me, sitting on the chair in front of my unorganized table. 'That's right,' I think to myself, 'I didn't have time to tidy things up yesterday.' Even if most of those papers were left by Reele, the blame will surely fall on me for not cleaning them up.

"Hi Mayor, I'm sorry; I didn't expect you to be behind the door, and sorry for being late as well. I hope you two didn't have to wait too much." Putting on my best work smile, I move inside the office to the side of my table so I can greet the woman properly; her blue eyes fall on me, studying my form up and down for a moment, something that strikes my memory instantly. "Wait, you're the woman from yesterday on the diner, aren't you?"

Slightly surprised, the woman nods her head in affirmation. "Yes. I didn't expect you to remember my face because of how short our interaction was. And don't you worry; my work requires me to wait for long periods of time, so it is not a problem." The woman rises to her feet and smiles, extending her hand to me in a more formal greeting; I take her hand in mine and shake it properly. "Besides, because of how the situation evolved so rapidly, I had no other choice but to contact your department this early; if anything, this should be expected."

Wow, okay, now that is something I don't see every day; she's being a lot more understanding than I expected, but of course, by the face the mayor is making, he has a different opinion that he doesn't voice out loud. Adjusting his nice, expensive-looking suit, he takes a step closer so he can be more efficiently part of the conversation.

"As I was saying before being rudely interrupted by Detective River's late arrival, Miss Julia, as a small city administrator, I'm deeply honored that your agency decided to lend us a hand on our latest case; if your agents need to take over the case in any way, feel free to take command of the investigation." He says it all so composedly, like it is a normal thing, that I almost miss the part where he is basically saying I'm a good-for-nothing who needs to be second-handled by someone else to do my work.

My hands close in a tight fist, but yet, I do my best to keep calm; meanwhile, the woman, Julia, shakes her head. "I understand your position, mayor, but if anything, your detective being in the command of my unity is better than other alternatives; we don't wish to leave your department with professionals that need outside help to operate." I notice she turning her gaze towards me, studying my face deeply—something that leaves me confused for a second before she returns her attention to the mayor. "I believe it is time to explain the situation to the detective, is it not?"

The mayor, reminded of my feeble existence, nods his head and adjusts his posture to one that looks less like he is about to worship the woman's whole existence. "Yes, you're absolutely right. Detective Rivers, Miss Julia's agency has decided, in an act of kindness, to lend us one of their unities so we can deal with these harsh times more easily; if anything, you should be honored, as I am, to receive this opportunity within your small hands grasp."

It sickens me profoundly the way this old man adjusts his gray hair like he is someone important, or how he leaves his beard needing trimming to grab people's sympathies by the image of being the 'good and ol' mayor, the one who always saved this city'; it is worse yet when a memory comes to me about a news article, a very old one, that talked about how he and his late wife, compared to Anja, were not so similar, with the possibility, that was confirmed later by the coming forth of a outside woman, of the girl being a fruit of night out of them that both maintained as a secret; sometimes I ask myself if this is the reason he's so hard on Anja.

This all smells off somehow. I understand many things, and one of them is that nothing in life is free, and most of the time, a helping hand has a second intention hidden between fingers. "Mayor, can I ask you to step out for a moment? I believe that as now we are going to work together with this agency, it would be good if I could share some clues I already gathered with Miss Julia. You understand, right?" I just need to get him out of the room, and then I'll be free to stop acting and ask the real questions.

Clearly upset to be asked to wait outside like us mere mortals, the mayor's white skin turns a shade of deep, boiling red, but before he can fully open his mouth to contest, the agency woman talks. "I believe so as well; your department doesn't stop to surprise me, Mister Mayor. It is wise to share information in order to build a strong relationship."

Returning to his normal color, the mayor nods his head, as if all the woman talks is pure God's words, and proceeds to leave the room with a smile on his face directed to Julia and an 'I'm looking' gaze towards me.

Once he's fully away, I force myself to forget about him; the smile on my face dies down to a serious expression; to my surprise, it is like the woman had already anticipated that this was my true intention all along.

"Feel free to interrogate me, detective; I can see how your fingers are itching to ask the important questions." She says just like before, but somehow I can notice a tone of amusement hidden in between notes.

"You can bullshit the mayor into thinking that this is all in good faith, but not me; what is it that you want? To take over the case when we reach the final conclusion so your agency can keep the credits?"

"Would you be open to believing me if I told you that my work here is to just keep everything in check? Protecting both your department and your city from a deranged killer?"

"Yeah, sure. Maybe in my dreams. For a government branch to want to dip their feet into our waters, it can only be because of the thing we both know about; this is all about the Galileo Biotech connection." I smile as confusion strikes the woman; how does she plan to lie her way out now? Maybe she will say something to divert my attention, or maybe she will be forced to slip something up.

"Galileo Biotech? Is that some type of connection you made with the victim's background?" She asks in a tone so true to curiosity that for once I start to think she's actually being real with me.

"Uhm... wait? Did you not know that?" I... dammit, I was so focused on trying to see through her that I talked too much; wait, so why is it that they want to participate in the case? No, let me reevaluate her claim. "The killer, you said about protecting the city from a deranged killer, so by your confusion I can assume that they and the place I just mentioned have no connection whatsoever, right?"

"Not one that I had any previous knowledge about, no; like I said before, we only just contacted the city's management for a meeting." Tilting her head for a moment, she regains her composure from before and crosses her legs and arms, thinking about something before continuing to talk. "I know you didn't give me the information because you wanted to, but I'll level our transaction with something that I'm sure you'll want to know; the killer we are looking for, it is safe to assume that they are connected somehow to another one we attempted to hunt down months ago without success. That is the number two reason we are here for."

"And what would be the reason number one?" I ask, already knowing by her smile that she won't say.

"That is a secret, at least for now. In any way, my time here is up," She informs while getting up to her feet; she adjusts her formal clothes to unwrinkle them and smiles, somehow managing to make it feel real; maybe it is. At this point, I can't tell anymore; I'm too angered by my own slip-up. "The mayor and I have things to discuss, more papers to sign, and so on; I'll leave my agents to your care. I will ask them to join you here on my way out." Before she leaves the room fully, she places atop my table a business card with what I assume is either her number or the agency she works for. "You have sharp eyes, puppy, but it is clear you talk a little too much when confident; I'm sure working with you will be enjoyable."

As the woman leaves my office, I'm left with only one thing to do: by cleaning some of the paper mess in the office, I aim to not make a godawful fool of myself once more, but somehow, I imagine I shall.

One thing I learn as I organize the files on an empty card box I found underneath the sofa is that most of them are from cases long closed, dating to even before I was born: strange disappearances that never came to a solid conclusion, murders with strange and unknown methods, and not least, strange reports from eyewitnesses who claims were nothing short of crazy talk. Why was he so interested in this stuff? And another thing: why are there so many empty coffee cups hidden in the drawers? Couldn't he just throw them away in the bin outside?

Before I can start formulating better my doubts, a knock on my office door brings me back to reality. Shifting my eyes to the shadows behind it, I notice two different shapes moving behind the frosted glass.

Shutting the drawers, I put the box, now filled with the files, on the ground and kick it back to hiding underneath the sofa, trying as best to leave the place presentable in the least time so it doesn't seem strange to the people waiting outside.

"Come in," I say out loud before placing myself beside my table, trying to look as best as I can manage.

At my words, the door opens slowly, and from behind it, three people make themselves known before stepping in; one, though, is quick to approach me with an extended hand as the other two stay hidden behind their shadow.

"I'm sorry for our sudden arrival; you're Detective Rivers, right?" A tall woman, holding a smile on her face that makes the mole beneath her lips easier to spot, asks; her tan skin contrasts against the light coming from the open window atop the sofa mesmerizingly, enhancing the oddness of her clothing choice. "It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Agent Dalia, but please, as we are going to be working together, feel free to drop the honorifics."

I shake the woman's hand, taking advantage of the moment she closes her eyes to study her further. Her wavy brown hair sways smoothly as she moves, ending on her shoulder, making me notice the necklace she has with a bird skull and bones tied on the thin string that encircles her neck in three full circles.

She wears something that makes her look like one of those people you would find selling 'magical' stuff on the end of most commercial streets: a long coat over a halfway unbuttoned vest that tops a white tunic with long sleeves, ataman canvas trousers that I only saw before in old medieval movies; she has her nails painted deep black, with no shine or anything, just the solid color; and that is all I look before stopping, as I have no intention to be mistaken with a creep for overanalyzing someone.

"It is good to meet you too; who are the others?" I ask, already expecting a presentation from the other two that doesn't seem to come.

"Oh, yes; I'm sorry, excuse their ways; these two are less sociable today because of the hour they had to wake up." Turning around to face the other two agents, the woman whispers to the one directly behind her—a woman with fair skin and long black hair that would make many people either jealous or enticed.

At the words from Agent Dalia, this woman steps closer, carrying a serious, almost cold expression on her face that feels very intimidating, especially evident when I notice the scar crossing the path under her left eye, like a lightning bolt that reaches its end on her jaw and seems to carry some story behind it.

The woman stops and stares at my face, locking her black eyes on mine—a gaze that carries a rage that I can't understand why they are there considering this is the first time I'm seeing her. Slightly offended, I try gazing back at her but find myself unable to; something that, once more, strikes familiar until the same memory from meeting Julia gets to me. 'They were the people in the diner, the ones eating in the far-sided booth.'

Coughing to stop her friend from staring, Agent Dalia looks at me apologetically before proceeding with the presentation. "This one here is Agent Colette; she is what you call a 'field specialist'; her ability to find clues is one I believe will come in hand to the investigation ahead."

The words from her seem to check out, as even with this clearly complicated personality, comparing the two she seems to be more professional; her style actually adds a lot to that, as she wears a formal set of black pants, black knee-high leather boots, thigh-highs, a simple white blouse with a heavy black coat on top with its middle being held by a belt, making her lean figure look more imposing, and a pair of black gloves adorning her hands.

Agent Dalia moves to introduce the last one but is interrupted by them before she can even start; this last agent lazily moves forward from the other's shadows, their face seemingly a lot younger than the other two; they look to be twenty-one or two, as the other agents are more in the range of twenty-six and twenty-eight.

Their face have a lot of small but deep scars on them, looking like a cat scratched their pale skin with a knife; on a lucky gaze, I even see some scars on their fingers and the end part of their wrist, as the rest are hidden beneath a golden canyon flannel shirt, or so I assume.

"Sup. I'm Yui." They extend their hand to me very casually, and when I reach to shake it, they instead slap it before fist bumping my hand. I try adjusting myself to this sudden personality discrepancy from the others by being quick to adapt. "For now that is all you need to know, and I guess I'm the group's technical specialist; if anything is electronic, just leave it to me."

Having done their presentation, they step away and give the center stage to Agent Dalia; as they do so, I notice their shaggy hair tied in a ponytail, three hoop piercings on their ears, the ragged jeans they use, and a popular pair of all starts on their feet. Everything about them screams something different about gender, so seeing that they didn't say anything about it, I'll just be neutral about it to avoid anything bad.

After all of that is done, I make sure to take a step back to address everyone at once. Gazing at the wall clock atop the door, I see that from the time I arrived, it has passed more or less half an hour, enough time for Mel to have the mill ready for us.

"Okay, it is good to meet everyone, and now that we know each other's names, I think there is nothing more to do than share some stuff with you all, so we are on the same page." When the words leave my mouth, every one of the agents starts to focus their attention solely on me—well, everyone but Agent Yui, who looks at something on their phone and, from time to time, glances away from it to catch up. "The name of the victim is Melinda Kolesov; her cause of death is still in processing, as is her age, but in a search on the internet, the one responsible for running the station's lab and I managed to find out she is head of some projects on a lab her father, Andrey Kolesov, funds; the lab is 'Galileo Biotech Lab and Research'. Before she was murdered, the victim did a good job of dressing herself to impress, putting some good effort into it, so it is not a far stretch to assume she was enjoying the night somewhere in the city; if it was drinking or something else, we will learn with the lab results later."

Humming a thought, Agent Dalia shifts her gaze to the floor for a minute and then raises her eyes to my meeting. "With all you've told us, the only option we have is to investigate whether there's a strong connection between this lab and her cause of death, no?"

"Well, it is certainly a possibility; we did find a flip phone on her boot with all her information written on it, so we assume this was either premeditated or she was a very cautious girl, and any of them make it hard to just think she would be dragged by someone away easily, which connects with the dirt I found underneath her fingernails. She fought, but the killer was stronger, or once more, they knew what they wanted beforehand, and with a good plan they were able to abuse of something to make the victim fall for a trap."

"The flip phone you talked about—were there no messages or call logs on it that could indicate she was contacted by someone that could be the killer?" Agent Yui, putting their phone to rest on their lap, seems to gain more interest in the case, and so makes their questions known. Interestingly, both agents look at them like this is a rare thing to happen before hiding their surprise away by focusing back on me, awaiting an answer.

"The phone had almost no contacts, just the ones from her family; that is why I have reasons to suspect she had a primary phone, one that the killer took. We are trying to contact her workplace to see if we can get her number, and if we do, we can start tracking it down. One more thing to add is that her father called the hidden-phone a lot before suddenly stopping yesterday after the murder."

"There's no way we can work like this," Agent Colette rises to her feet angrily, shoving her hands in her pocket and pulling out a phone. "I'm calling the agency to say what I did yesterday; this is a waste of our time."

Promptly, Agent Dalia rises to her feet and snaps the phone out of the woman's hands. "Colette, stop acting like a kid; you promised you would give this a go, so please be patient."

Agent Yui laughs sarcastically and directs her sharp gaze towards both of them. "Forget it, Lia, the word 'patience' doesn't exist in her vocabulary; isn't it right, puppy?"

The scene that unfolds in front of me makes me question a lot of things: 'How can federal agents act like that?', 'What is happening?'—the basics, but at least it helps me calm myself seeing that they are just humans, like me, and not the 'superior being' most people working for the government think they are.

Summoning all the air to permeate my lungs, I close my hand and bring it down strongly on the wooden table, creating a painful sound that stops their argument and almost breaks my bones as well.

"Guys, I'm not done talking; there is one more thing to add that might be what we are looking for to proceed with the case." My words end their fight, and for a moment I think they are going to ask something, but once I notice they are not, I continue. "Yesterday night, I investigated a place in the city—an old sewing mill that most teens use as a party holder. I had a 'trustworthy' contact that placed a gray car there that, when I arrived, was no more." As I talk, it is like they are holding their breath for some reason, or maybe they are expecting the best part, I don't know, but their eyes all focus not like before on me; good, that means they are finally piqued. "Of course, I didn't linger just on watching the place from afar, so I entered the area and found something interesting; on the ground, there were some bullet cases, but no blood, or at least not a single drop I could see with my flashlight on that dark. That is why I asked one of the officers to go up there and close the area for us."

"Bullet cases?" Agent Dalia mutters to herself before shooting a glance at the other two; she and Agent Colette start to communicate with gestures I can't understand but lose interest in very quickly, especially knowing I'm on the clock here.

"We are leaving now, so please get ready or catch up." Leaving them to their discussion, I stride out of the room without looking back to check if they are following, passing by the empty office and reaching the entrance, where I notice Anja once more on her phone, but this time she looks more like herself.

She catches my gaze and raises her hand; for once since she started working here, she gestures to me a 'bye'. I reply with a nod of my head as I push open the old, wooden door, meeting the cold, sharp air outside that I quickly get bored of and seek shelter in my car.

Inside the detective's empty office

Dalia leans her back against the solid wall of the room and crosses her arms tightly against her chest, leaving one hand free to gesture as she speaks.

"Now we know why you both were able to hear gunshots before we arrived on the scene, but there's no way the target was the one to pull the trigger; they wouldn't need a gun to kill efficiently. Furthermore, they would only expose themselves to being found by the loud sound."

"Yes," Colette nods her head in affirmation, using the time they are lingering around to look in the room for anything that can help them learn more about anything regarding their secondary target, the detective. "Independent of being just a fledgling, they possess strength enough to deal with a human; that is where the blood scent Yui was able to catch comes into play; something happened there that, if it wasn't for the detective, we would be one step closer to learning by now." She says as she goes through some papers in view on the table, seeing only old files to cases dated about thirty years ago.

"Yeah, you say that, but you didn't know about the cartridges until the detective opened her pretty mouth; knowing you, as soon as we had gotten the target in our hands, you would be more eager to return base than to search around." Yawning lazily, Yui throws themselves on the comfy sofa, curling up around the lingering scent belonging to the detective that she makes sure to bask in to ensure maximum comfort. "Try to be happy for once that someone with such a sweet aroma is doing your job for you and relax; I know I'm sure... to do... so."

Being grabbed by the neck suddenly, Yui's body is lifted by the neck strongly before they can find deep sleep; Colette makes sure to squeeze tightly enough to bring the agent's energy back by primal instinct, earning a groan from them followed by a punch that doesn't manage to move the woman's hard muscle wall.

"There's no happiness to be found in knowing you slipped up on something important." She comments, making sure that Yui is on their two feet before weakening her grasp enough to allow them to break away. "Focus on your damn job, because if I find you lazing around again, I'll make sure to test how 'immortal' your type can be."

"Lia!" Yui, rubbing their neck and hissing at the other agent, calls out almost like a child to their mother. "Are you going to let her do this just like that?"

"Enough! You both," Dalia, reaching the edge of her patience, stumps her foot on the wooden floor as strongly as she can to daze them both with the sound. "That is exactly why we are in the position we are in right now; Colette, swallow your pride for a moment and let us get to the car so we can reach the detective before she gets to the scene before us; Yui, get on your motorcycle and use your time to message our handler about what we found out."

"Ay, ay, captain." With the cell phone tightly grasped in their hand, Yui uses their supernatural speed to type all the information they need to rely on for their handler before reaching the girl on the front table.

Now, in complete silence, both the remaining agents walk side by side to leave the police station, Colette holding her head down as she suppresses her instincts to argue and bask in a good fight, and Dalia, who sighs tiredly, remains partially drained by having to deal with all of this at this early hour.