Frank's boss refused to be persuaded to replace him with someone else. Apparently, he was the best. Of course he was the best...at least when it came to being the scapegoat. It's obvious that no one wanted this job. Joint work by several different agencies always ended badly. Although Frank had another reason for not wanting to be here.
Either way, he had no choice if he wanted to keep his job. He was currently sitting on a plane to New York with his new colleagues. At least he was the boss here, and he was totally going to take advantage of that.
"All right, I want to hear from each of you what you think about this." He began.
"If I may begin, I've taken the liberty of preparing some theories." PhD Mills replied. "In my opinion, we are dealing with some form of miniaturized flamethrower in which the fuel is stored in a highly compressed state so that when released, it appears as if a fireball is being launched. This is theoretically possible if one could find a way to compress the fuel particles as much as possible. I have a couple of research papers here on the subject although in this case it was more about simplifying transport and increasing the capacity of the tanks. However, so far no one has presented a finished prototype."
"Or maybe it was just a trick? You know, like in a circus. You scoop some fuel into your mouth and then breathe on some fire source." Asked Rees.
"Impossible. You'd have to hold several liters in your mouth and then spit it out all at once." Countered Lexie. "And that's just to keep the effect. A fire spit out this way goes out practically immediately and is too low in temperature to set anything on fire. Maybe some fabric or paper, possibly grass. But that wouldn't have burned the park. At most, there would be a fire that would be quickly noticed and extinguished. Whereas here, according to the recordings, we had a flash of fire that went through and left a blaze in its path. It's like dropping napalm, which would instantly burn the flora and expire."
"In your opinion, this weapon would be able to do that?" Frank was the questioner.
"Yes, although it seems that it should be correspondingly larger. That way there would be an instant incineration over a large area, and because of the size and the suddenness of the fire, there would be a moment when all the air would disappear and the fire would immediately go out. Just like a candle covered with glass."
"Who then would have the ability to create something like that?"
"A person would have to be familiar with molecular chemistry and have access to an advanced laboratory. Fuel is the most important factor here. The thrower itself should not be very complicated, and any slightly experienced mechanic would be enough to assemble it."
"Just what would such a person want to achieve by burning a piece of parkland? Surely there are better places to test your idea. Plus how does all this relate to the events on that street. Is the guy playing super hero?" Frank wondered.
"It's not impossible. According to reports, there was a crime near both places not long before the event. In the park, three teenagers were beaten into unconsciousness as they fled from the police after a failed store robbery. There was also a robbery near the destroyed street, three masked thugs robbed a jewelry store." Jonathan replied matter-of-factly.
"A brilliant scientist and super hero. It sounds like Tony Stark came off a comic." Frank jokingly commented, and then decided to ask a question he would most likely regret. "And what do you think about it? You've been silent all this time."
The words were directed Nazeeha his ex-wife. "What, oh, I'm sorry, I was busy thinking about our marriage."
"Can't you let go? At least not here..."
"How much longer do I have to wait for you to talk to me! You disappeared then without a trace! And you know me that I was looking! All that fucking time! And then what! I find out that you suddenly started working for the FBI! I tried to contact you again and nothing! It took the influence of the CIA for you to finally meet with me!"
It's going to be a long flight...
The rest of the flight passed in an awkward atmosphere. Frank didn't want to talk about his past, and Nazeeha was so far satisfied that she could finally yell at him freely.
...
When Frank and company finally got off the plane someone immediately noticed them and approached.
"Good morning, my name is George Williams and I am your contact with the NYPD. An office has been prepared for you and rooms have been booked at a hotel nearby."
"..."
George waited a moment for some kind of response, but having received none, he decided to say something to avoid an awkward silence.
"I see that you are tired. Please follow me and I will bring you to your hotel, there you can rest."
"..."
It promises to be an interesting collaboration. George thought.
...
They all met at the NYPD office the next morning. Jonathan warned George what had taken place on the plane and why everyone didn't feel like socializing yesterday. Frank, for his part, decided to ignore Nazeeha and get on with his work. The guilty herself was extremely happy with the situation, but as an experienced agent she didn't let her problems affect the success of the mission.
"Since everyone is here I'll divide up the tasks: Jonathan you will stay in the office and go through all the evidence found again, maybe we missed something." Frank started the meeting. "Me and George will take care of the Central Park case. We will interview the witnesses again, especially the beaten kids and the shopkeeper, Lexie and Nazeeha you will go back to that alley. Check to see if the investigators missed anything, the area shouldn't have been disturbed yet. When you're done with that, go question the employees of that jewelry store, maybe they saw something more."
"I have to go also?! I'm a scientist, not a detective!" Exclaimed PhD Mills.
"I don't have enough people to let any of you sit on your ass! You're a member of this team like the rest of us and you'll adapt. Besides, your knowledge may allow you to see something the others missed. I'd be most happy to send you to Central Park, but it's been so long that if there were any traces they've long since been destroyed."
At these words Lexie could only fall silent.
"If no one has any more questions then disperse. We'll meet again at 8 PM." Frank walked away ignoring Nazeeha's raised hand.
...
Richard was again scolded by his mother for participating in a fight. He had already developed the ability to ignore what she was saying. He loved his mother, but thought she was wrong.
Fortunately, however, the tirade was interrupted by the doorbell.
"And who is it carrying at this hour!" Exclaimed an annoyed Helen.
"I'll go see!" Exclaimed Isaac. He was as overjoyed as Richard that someone had interrupted her.
Of course, Isaac and Helen Collins were Richard's parents. She was tall and slim, and despite her age looked very good with red hair and big blue eyes. Her husband, on the other hand, was aging gracelessly with a large beer belly and balding hair. But they still loved each other very much. Helen was a teacher, and Frank ran his own grocery store. So their financial condition was fine. They were both quite old for relatively fresh parents. It was only at the age of 38 that Helen became pregnant. She had already come to terms with the idea that she would not become a mother in this life, she did not want to take a child that was not hers, and because she was a good Catholic In Vitro was not an option. However, God had other plans for her and finally allowed her to have a child.
"We'll come back to this conversation later, I'm not done with you yet Richard Dexter Collins."
Richard, meanwhile, escaped to his room and concentrated chakra in his ears to hear his father's conversation.
...
"Good evening. I'm Agent Frank Pearce of the FBI, and this is Lieutenant George Williams of the NYPD. May we come in to talk?" Frank introduced themselves, showing his badge.
"What again? I've already told the police everything. And what is an FBI agent doing here?" Isaac answered with a question.
"It turned out that the case of the robbery of your store may be related to something the FBI is working on, I can't reveal the details, but we came to simply ask a few questions, and then you won't see us again."
"I guess I don't have a choice, you're welcome."
"Thank you very much."
Isaac led them into the living room, which was relatively small as befits an old apartment building, but nicely decorated and clean. Although they weren't rich, they were holding up reasonably well. Frank stated.
"Would you like something to drink?" Asked Helen, who walked in behind them.
"This is my wife Helen." Isaac introduced her.
"A glass of water, if you don't mind." Frank asked.
"So I'm listening, what's the matter?"
"You have a son right?" George began.
"Yes, and what does he have to do with it?"
"Nothing of course, I just have to put it on the record. How old is he?"
"Five."
"Does anyone besides your wife and son live here?"
"No."
"And what does your wife do for a living?"
"She is a teacher! Why all these questions, am I suspected of something?!"
"No, of course not. I'm sorry if it sounded that way. We simply had to verify all the information for the record. Standard procedure."
"First I've heard. Before, policemen didn't care about anything like that."
"My bad, the FBI is more steeped in procedures, for some reason they love paperwork there." Frank saved the situation.
Meanwhile, Helen walked in with a glass of water.
George thanked her then continued. "Did you know the robbers?"
"They go to the same school where I teach, but I'm not their teacher. I heard they are good kids, this was their first such incident. Do you know why they did it?" Helen took over the conversation.
"Unfortunately I can't give an answer for now, the investigation is ongoing. Were you the one who called the police?"
"No, I don't know who did, but I'm very grateful. I didn't expect that one of those boys could pull out a knife."
"Could you tell us how the whole situation went?"
"Since I have to... It was around noon. One of my clients told me that someone was putting something under his shirt so I went to check. It was a regular kid, so I didn't want to overreact. I threatened him with the police and hoped he would flee, but of course that didn't happen. He started to be very aggressive toward me, threatening, so I decided to push him out of the store. Then two of his friends ran up to me and started threatening to do something to me if I didn't give them the money. I thought I could handle it until one of them pulled out a knife and took a swing at me. Fortunately, he stumbled and missed. Then they heard the police siren and ran away. Another lucky thing was that a police car was in the area. I was really lucky."
"I'm glad you're okay. Do you operate the entire store by yourself?"
"Usually not, but just that day I was alone."
"Do such situations often happen here?"
"Before, I would say no. But lately all sorts of petty crimes have increased strongly, especially among children. You can make a note of this in your record. Pickpockets and other thieves have begun to appear like a plague. Although no one else was attacked with a weapon. The police should do something about it."
"Of course I will take note of it. And do you have any guesses as to who could have beaten them so badly, especially the knifeman. It looked like an act of revenge."
"Not any, and if you think it was me then I must disappoint you, I was already questioned by the police at the time. And my wife was in school, more relatives do not even live in the area. Unless you think a five-year-old caught up with the fleeing teenagers and beat them up?"
"Please don't get upset, we're just asking. We have heard from neighbors that your son often gets into fights..."
"I've had enough of this interrogation please leave! If you want it, come back with a warrant!"
George and Frank were not going to get into an argument, so they thanked the interview and quietly left the apartment with obedience.
"Why the hell did you mention the kid, he was already angry." Frank said as the door closed.
"I was supposed to investigate every detail, then I investigated. Besides, there was no point in asking more anyway. It's obvious that the guy doesn't know anything. He and his wife have a solid alibi, and even if they didn't, they lack the knowledge to construct that flamethrower or something. So the whole interview is for nothing."
"With that last one you're wrong."
"What?"
"Isn't it strange that after our super hero showed up, crime in the area increased significantly?"
"Coincidence and that's it. Besides, I've seen reports, five percent. Close to a statistical mistake."
"I have a feeling that somehow it's connected, but I don't know how yet."
"Nothing here for us. Are we going back to base?"
"Yes, maybe the others were luckier."
...
Dammit, dammit, dammit.
Luke will be angry... Eh. Where are those notes....
Richard began searching his room until he remembered that he had thrown Luke's papers in the trash, after getting a headache while trying to learn the cipher.
Here I have you guys. Okay let's see, that's a no, that's a no, oh here. He pulled out his phone and sent a chat message: My dog turned blue.
Although it's all this fool's fault, if I had controlled the fire it wouldn't have happened! Richard selectively forgot that he was the one who started the fight in the park.
...
"And what the hell happened to you?" Asked Frank at the sight of Jonathan, whose hair was sticking up in every direction and whose fingers were bandaged.
"Boss save me, this crazy woman wants to kill me!"
"What's going on?" George joined the conversation, equally curious.
"We found something big!" An excited Lexie replied.
"What?"
"Let me start at the beginning. In the morning, Jonathan, while reviewing the evidence, accidentally touched the shuriken with his bare hand and was kicked by a rather strong electricity. Any person would have thought at the time that it was a simple static discharge, but fortunately Jonathan touched it once more out of curiosity and you won't believe what happened!"
"The electricity shocked him once again?" George guessed.
"Well, no! He got burned! The shuriken was terribly hot! After I came back and found out about it, I didn't believe him at first, but we went to check. I touched it myself and guess what."
"Just tell us." Said a flustered Frank, he didn't have the energy to guess.
"Nothing! Nothing happened to me! Hahaha!"
"She's crazy?"
"Oh, keep listening. After that Jonathan, not wanting to give up, touched it again. And he was shocked again! Here I myself thought it was an accident and another static discharge, but how wrong I was." Lexie showed the bandaged finger. "I touched it again and this time I got burned too!"
"How is that possible?" Frank and George asked simultaneously.
"I have no idea! But with Jonathan's help we did some tests. It seems that every time it touches the human body, the Shuriken reacts in different ways, three ways to be exact. This is where I have to thank Jonathan's help." At these words, Jonathan almost cried. Meanwhile, Lexie continued, talking faster and faster. "Once it's electric, then it's super hot, and finally, although here I'm not entirely sure what that could mean, it seems kind of earthy to the touch. And so it goes again and again..." She said on one breath. "Ah... Well, and as I mentioned it only happens when it's touched by the human body, although I haven't experimented with animals yet. Investigators missed it because they wore rubber gloves that block each of the three states. So do other materials. To find out more I'll have to experiment, I've already ordered access to a real lab for tomorrow morning, because here you don't have much. Anyway, I sense a big breakthrough, and not just in the investigation, if I can discover how it works."
"Don't get so wrapped up. If everything you say is true, it begs the question of how did it get in the trash next to the explosion site? Did you find out anything?"
"Absolutely nothing. People were quite talkative, but no one heard anything, no one saw anything and no one knew anything, nor did we find any new clues that were related to the case. The only thing I noticed were complaints about the increase of crime, just when our super hero appeared." Nazeeha replied, to which George made a surprised face. "What's this about?"
"It was similar with us, well, except maybe that people were not so talkative. The parents of the beaten kids didn't even let us talk to them. Anyway, we also heard about the increase in crime and the boss came to the same conclusions as you."
"Did he?" Nazeeha looked toward Frank and smiled.
"Ekhem. We can talk about it later. It's late, but if we're going to work together, I want to get to know you better, so I invite you all to the bar, at my cost."
"The boss is the best!" Jonathan began to exclaim.
"I'd be glad to go." Said Lexie shyly.
"I'll come by, but only for a moment. My wife is pregnant and I need to be with her." Added George.
"And will we get to know you better?" Nazeeha commented.
Fuck!
