Between the Navory Building and Hami building, Present
She ran up the narrow street, tears running down her cheeks, finally she came to the busy street. She leaned near the wall of the Navory building, holding the sack filled with banknotes close to her chest, memories of thirteen-year-old self, staring at the old bald man with the same eyes as hers, being butchered with machetes, while he screamed flash backing.
"Joline! Help me daughter!"
Her forest green eyes filled with fear stared at him, not moving nor saying a word. A huge figure with long dark locks, in a leather black pants and jacket, appeared beside her, carrying a bloody sickle. "There you go, little girl," her hands quickly took the sack with banknotes from the huge hand. "Run along now."
She timidly ran, down the narrow street, hearing her father's scream from the distance.
The thunder roaring pulled her back to the presence. Her right hand wiping her runny nose, moving to her car. She had done this a million times, why was this soul different?
"You'll need it more."
Hyphen's words flashing in her head. She stopped near her car, her eyes seeing the convoy of SUVs, accompanied by police cars, driving up the busy street, a traffic cop, stopping all the cars that weren't with the convoy of SUVs, from moving catching his attention.
"Everyone, clear up! Police under investigation!" yelled a stout police officer who seemed to be in his late forties in a husky voice, stepping out the police sport car.
Jola immediately recognised him, Officer Wellston, a police officer from Diva section. She had saw him a number of times, mostly in the Hell body tattoo shop, there to give Alexia a heads up, if any drug investigation was going to take place.
So, what was he doing here? In Yadin section, especially in the Maze street? Something was wrong and she knew it.
Her eyes moving onto the four black SUVs, driving past the police sport cars, parking opposite her car, along the guests of the Navory building cars. She watched as the doors of the SUV opened, men heavily armoured stepped out in black leather waist coats with thousand pockets, along with a familiar figure. Long auburn dreadlocks, carrying a M4, a cigar at the corner of his lips, with a fresh scar.
A scar she knew was from Hyphen, Hyphen who had caused his lip to bust, back in the Vinery building. His rough hands with scars around her neck, she could still feel them, ready to squeeze out her life.
A particular conversation between him and Hyphen returned to her head.
"I don't know you," Hyphen had replied, spitting out the blood from my mouth. "You clearly are mistaking me.
"Dezono Index,"
"The younger brother of Zoenira," he had replied, his sharp face coming to my view.
"Round up the whole perimeter!" he yelled pulling her out her past memory, his voice loud and haunting like the time she had met him.
"Hyphen," Jola whispered, running back into the crowded street, that was panicking.
Her forehead frowned, her flipflops stepping on the puddle of dirty water, as she entered the narrow street, running as fast as she could.