Metà (COMPLETED)

33. My Own

The morning after consisted of a large family breakfast... which was weird to think of because it literally was just that.

I mean we were family, to an extent.

Nonetheless, everything went smoothly and there was no arguing—not even from Francesca— because everyone was too busy getting to know Angelo.

Marco and Cane were now discussing something in the living room and I was in my bedroom talking to Max.

"Okay, so I was able to get some analysts to look over the files."

"Great. Find anything that could help," I asked, rubbing the bruises on my hips.

"Nothing we couldn't have gathered from the little info we had. But, we might know where to find him. In the past investigations Interpol ran on him decades ago, they'd infiltrated two bases. I emailed you the map."

I put the phone on speaker and opened up the map.

"Got it," I replied.

"Alright. So the two points marked in red were his former bases." I rolled my eyes at the sight.

"They're not that far apart. How stupid," I remarked.

"Very. But he must've learned his lesson because since those findings, Interpol hasn't been able to get a hold of anything else. Just a bunch of dead ends. Same on our end. Except, we've been able to—if you click the next picture I sent— we've been able to calculate a possible point at which his next base may be."

I looked at the triangle drawn on the map with the tip of it being the approximated location.

"Have you gotten any satellite images," I asked, trying to zoom in.

"They should be in my inbox in a few minutes. Dexters been heading the tech stuff from New York and was the one who came up with estimate. He said he'd— hold on."

I fell onto my bed, replaying last nights events. Butterflies filled my stomach.

I love you too.

My lips spread into a stupid grin.

"Zhara?"

Images of Marco, Sofi, Angelo and I all under one roof spending time together as a family distracted me from Max's calls.

"Helloooo?"

"Sorry. Sorry I um—," I cleared my throat. "You were saying?"

"Dexter just sent the images." He let out a deep sigh and I could practically hear him run his hand through his icy hair. "I'm afraid we've got another dead end. Check you email."

I frowned at the picture, zooming and rotating. "There's nothing."

"Exactly. It's just a field. I think—."

"Wait," I interrupted. The field looked familiar. I'd been there before. I wracked my mind, thinking of where'd I'd seen this.

"Anton."

"What?"

"Anton! The mission with Anton. Remember? I followed him to a field and we didn't know what he was doing there."

"Uh huh... what was he doing there," Max asked, mostly to himself.

"No one looked into it? No one questioned him about it?"

"One sec, let me get his file." I heard the background of computer keys clicking and people talking before the phone rustled again and Max spoke.

"Okay. So the first interrogation was just basics... the second... not much," he muttered. Papers flipped for a while before he finally stopped.