Not So Subtle Threats

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Go out there and change the world!


"Anyone who calls you "little lady" has already excluded you from the set of people worth listening to." ~Neil Gaiman


The LED lights flickered just enough to cause his eye to twitch.

Or maybe it wasn't due to the lights.

Maybe it was twitching because of his increasing irritation.

Running a hand through his damp hair, Jack glowered at the man seated across the table from him.

When he had finally found the weapon (after almost five hours of diving), he broke the surface to find that, not only had the doctor disappeared, she had also abandoned him on the lake-shore without a car.

He had had to hitchhike it back to the warehouse with Thomas.

And the boy drove like the wind itself was chasing him. Jack's knuckles still hurt from holding onto the door-handle.

Coldwater had left clear instructions to Thomas on how to conduct a forensic examination of the weapon. Not to actually do any forensic work, but to imprint the gun barrel's striation and compare them to the bullets and then run the serial number through the FBI database.

If it was still there.

So ten minutes into his examination, Thomas had leaped jubilantly and nearly started hopping in excitement when the striations matched.

His excitement increased exponentially as his examination continued.

Whether it was by luck or on purpose, the disposer of the weapon had not filed off the serial number of the gun.

Simply by running the eight digit number through the FBI database, Thomas had a name of the owner.

A familiar name.

That caused suspicious apprehension to roll around in Jack's gut.

But he wasn't about to let that odd feeling stop him from chasing a lead.

And apparently, he was doing it by himself because Coldwater had not appeared since he had surfaced.

That was three hours ago.

She had not answered any of his calls, allowing his messages to go straight to voicemail.


He shouldn't have trusted her.

Wait, correction:

He hadn't trusted her- he gave her a moment of weakness which she, in true Coldwater fashion, took advantage of the minute he had let his guard down.

It was his own fault.

So here he was. Alone. In the minuscule police station, glaring threateningly at the man sitting across from him.

Hirsi Merhaba.

The lawyer who had earlier tried to run Jack over with his car.

Merhaba hadn't come quietly. In fact, he had hardly come at all, but the warrant Jack had gotten for his arrest forced his hand.

He wasn't even breaking a sweat under Jack's pressing.

Merhaba was one of those cocky men who thought that even the ground was blessed because they walked on it. He hadn't even called a lawyer (maybe because he himself was a lawyer), just sat across from Jack with an arrogant smile written across his face.

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