The receptionist looks at Justin
“Interpol, huh… Maybe you’d be better off speaking to the chief.”
“Outside of the library perhaps?”
Justin pins his badge back on and nods. He walks towards the chief’s office and knocks on the door.
Chief seems to be smoking a cigar and yells
“Get in!”
Justin opens the door and walks in, once again showing his Interpol badge.
“I am looking into the whole card investigation. I need information.”
He takes a seat, uninvited, and takes a cigar of his own, lighting it with his lightning.
“Deal.”
He disconnects the call and walks to the Library, arriving 15 minutes later.
The Chief puts his cigar down
“The last thing I need in this city are you Interpol son ’ bitches. What do you need, boy? I have my best Sergeant on the case. His name is Daed.”
“And I talked to Daed, and now I need to know more. What do you know?”
(What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo.)
The Chief smokes a bit more
“I dunno boy, maybe call him again or something? I know nothing more than he does, he’s the only assigned to the matter. Maybe he found something new?”
Jacques notices Mabel’s frown, and in a non-genuine manner asks: “Anything happened?”
“Alright, what’s his number?”
He sighs and starts searching Daed’s number. He writes down his number on a notepad.
“Here you go, kid. Now leave, I have something other to do than speak with you Interpol people”
Jacques replies:
“Alright. Do we know where his last sighting was? Perhaps we can start there.”
Justin takes the notepad and leaves, dumping the cigar on the chief’s floor. He dials the number once he’s out of the station.
Daed is driving around while he recieves the call
“Sergeant Daed of the NYPD speaking”
“His last sighting was at a hostibal as far as I know. He was reviving a patient when he was attacked by the dead.”