"Murphy, here, fast!" As soon as I heard the familiar voice of the AI in my brother's annoying voice I dashed towards the computer room.
My desk was heavy oak, groaning under the weight of monitors and a tangle of chords. A stack of books rested on one side of the desk, all half-read and not quite yet finished. There was a cactus in the windowsill, one of the few living things surrounding me that didn't leave whenever I forgot to attend it for a while.
But what grabbed my attention wasn't the messy view of the room, but the violently flashing monitors. I jerked backward as the screen turned red, bright words covered my vision, and a loud scream echoed from the program as a map displayed over all monitors in the vicinity. The alarm rang loud and true in my ears, enough to make me wince if I hadn't been so shell-shocked. All I could do was stare at the words, printed in all caps across the screen.
"This can't be possible," I mumbled out, "This isn't happening."
But it very much was.
___
A few weeks later
I rub my temples and sigh bitterly as my tired eyes stare blankly at the empty cup sitting parallelly to my laptop, shamelessly blaming it for still not finding any clue.
I was now chewing my lips, trying not to cry. I desperately needed some help. But the question is- how? I let out a breath that I had been holding; tears filled up my waterline and began to well up again. I immensely shook my head and stood up, my chair screeching back.
What should I do? I've no idea, no help, no connection. I paced around the room with my face in between my palms.
How is he? Are they torturing him or treating him well considering they kidnapped him to work for them. But what if he refused? Knowing him he'll probably test their patience. Or what if they don't need him anymore? Or if they they think he's not the person they are looking out for? So many fucking if's.
They are known for their brutality and they spare no one. No matter if they are men, women, kids, or their own family.
I can't barge into their base and demand for my brother that would be plain suicide- much brutal and gut-wrenching than a caffeine overdose.
Attacking their bases would take my whole life and still, it won't be possible to destroy them fully or find the one base or location where my brother is when I'm all alone. I tugged at my hair feeling frustrated at myself for not doing anything for him when it's all my fault. I could have thought of some other ways but that.
The grip on my hair becomes tight, painfully tight. But, then an idea clicked in my mind and all the tiredness, weariness and doubts washed away as a wave of determination hit me.
I don't have a connection, but who does in the starting? It's made through time, and I'll fucking make them. It's not going to be easy. But it's not impossible either because I'm not the only one who wants to bring the Russians down (mafia).
And what's the better time to check if,
The enemy of my enemy is indeed my friend.
___
She doesn't know it yet but it'd only just started. Her victory or doom, who knows?
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Wildflower
Teen Fiction"This story revolves around a girl named, Elixir." Weird name, huh? Well, to be fair, her life is way weirder/interesting than the name. She is what people call beauty with brains. One usual day, she finds that her brother went missing, more like k...
